“You think God gives us credit for showing up even when the priest didn’t?” For the first time, I spoke through the cloud, directly to her. “If this life is based on credits and debits—” I shook my head. “Then we’re all gone anyway.” In a rare moment of lucidity, she turned to me. “What do you think it’s based on?” The wall of names painted the backdrop behind me. “The walk . . . from broken to not.”
