I turned the page, and there was the figure of Christ the Redeemer on top of a mountain in the Andes, towering over the surrounding area. I wondered whether Tom had actually made it there, or if he died before getting a chance to see it. I imagined him getting off the bus and gazing down at the beautiful land spread out below the mountaintop. As he turns around, he notices the huge shadow of the cross and looks up to see the figure of Christ, arms open in a welcoming gesture. The sun hangs behind the statue at shoulder height, silhouetting it brightly against the clear sky, and Tom squints as
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