Gray Cell Blue

The priest sighed heavily, showing a trace of age in his slumped shoulders. “Then to yourself, Christopher. You have to face yourself before you go to face God.”

“I trusted you, Father. And so did Jimmy.” Chris pushed his hand over his wet hair forcefully, pulling the skin on his forehead tight against his skull. “Jimmy loved you.”

“Aye, and I loved you both.” Father Muldoon sat up straight and tried to catch Chris’s gaze as he paced. “You were a good altar boy, Christopher, but you lost faith. You lost hope and trust in God. James never did.”

“Never?” Chris snapped. “Not even when God abandoned him in that rectory basement? He was alone and helpless, Father. No God, no brother, no one to help him.”

“You aren’t alone, Christopher. God is with you. I am with you.”

“Like you were with James? Like that?” Chris had stopped pacing and now stood, chest heaving, in front of the priest. “When I found him, he tried so hard to hide his tears, to be brave. Even with the stains still on his clothes, he wouldn’t tell me who had done that to him.”





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