The Brutal Telling (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #5)

by Louise Penny

She was fierce because she was afraid. Of everything.

Many men were drawn to the tranquility of a garden only after they’d known the brutality of life.

This was the last day of summer vacation, and while it had been decades since he’d gone to school, he still felt the tug. The mix of sadness at the end of summer, and excitement to see his chums again. The new clothes, bought after a summer’s growth. The new pencils, sharpened over and over, and the smell of the shavings. And the new notebooks. Always strangely thrilling. Unmarred. No mistakes yet. All they held was promise and potential.

And don’t ever think you know what someone else is thinking, never mind feeling.”

It was a leading Catholic private school. Annie had gone there too, years after Olivier, to be taught by the rigorous nuns. His son Daniel had refused, preferring the less rigorous public schools. Annie had learned logic, Latin, problem solving. Daniel had learned to roll a spliff. Both grew into decent, happy adults.

Seemed only the wealthy got healed.

A lot can happen in a minute, never mind five.

“How can you say that about the man we just met? He was a shit.” Gamache laughed. “I don’t disagree. Most of the saints were. St. Ignatius had a police record, St. Jerome was a horrible, mean-spirited man, St. Augustine slept around. He once prayed, ‘Lord, give me chastity, but not just yet.’” Beauvoir snorted. “Sounds like lots of people. So why’s one a saint and someone else just an asshole?” “Can’t tell you that. It’s one of the mysteries.” “Bullshit. You don’t even go to church. What do you really think?” Gamache leaned forward. “I think to be holy is to be human,

“That was foolish of you,” said Gamache. He looked stern and his voice was without warmth. Morin instantly reddened. “Never, ever wander on your own into the woods, do you understand? You might have been lost.” “But you’d find me, wouldn’t you?” They all knew he would. Gamache had found them once, he’d find them again.

Gamache wondered if she was channeling Ruth Zardo. Was there one in every pack?

Was she being willful? Obstinate? Or was she standing up for what she believed in? Was she a hero or a bitch? Strange how often it was hard to tell.

Like a first love, the place where peace is first found is never, ever forgotten.