Doomsday Book (Oxford Time Travel, #1)

by Connie Willis

He continues to say matins and vespers and to pray, telling God about Rosemund and who has it now, reporting their symptoms and telling what we’re doing for them, as if He could actually hear him. The way I talk to you. Is God there, too, I wonder, but shut off from us by something worse than time, unable to get through, unable to find us?

“You’re my responsibility.” “And you’re mine,” Colin said stubbornly.