Zee came and sat next to me, his head in his hands. It took me a moment to notice he was crying. “It’s never going to end, is it?” he said, wiping his face with his sleeve. I slung my good arm over his shoulders, feeling them heave. Before I knew it I had tears of my own, Zee’s frustration and fury contagious. He lashed out at the pew in front, his bony fists not budging it. “It’s never going to end. Not now.” I wanted to reassure him, calm him, but what could I say?
