“At what point yesterday did you decide Clara Morrow was the one?” asked Gamache. “You were with me, Chief Inspector. The moment I saw the light in the Virgin Mary’s eye.” Gamache was quiet, recalling that moment. “As I remember you thought it might simply be a trick of the light.” “I still do. But how remarkable is that? For Clara Morrow to, in essence, capture the human experience? One person’s hope is another person’s cruelty. Is it light, or a false promise?”
