Lying beside him at night, in the bed where my father had once lain, I thought of throwing myself off the cliff. After all, I was already dead. Surely God would not punish me? But then I thought, What if I am still Justine Moritz, with an immortal soul? A soul that belongs to God and not myself, which will one day reunite with its true Creator? No, I could not kill myself. Not while I believed myself to still be God’s creature.
