Thomas smiled despite the otherwise doleful look on his face. “Weylyn’s a special kid. I just wish my wife could have seen it, too.” “He is special,” I said, standing up. “I promise I’ll take good care of him.” I turned to leave, but the reverend held out his hand, signaling me to stop. “Oh, Meg,” he said, his voice thick with remorse. “Will you tell Weylyn I’m sorry? I plan to tell him myself, but he’ll probably be too hurt to believe a word I say. Will you tell him again for me? Once the dust settles?” I would tell him. I would also tell him how, as I was leaving, I saw Thomas wipe a stray
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