A choked sound
and Pastor Rocky bowing his head to rest it in his hands told us the moment he
read the headline of the first accident article.
"I've been
thinking about the younger version in the pictures," Daniel whispered.
I was glad he
spoke, because my eyes were aching a little, trying to watch Pastor Rocky but
giving him some privacy.
"Doppelgangers
strike again?" I said, and glanced at him.
He nodded.
"How much good can we do him? Other than knowing how he has to feel, since
we had our own lookalike problems."
"Yeah, but
ours didn't … well, yeah, one of my doppelgangers went to dust when it hit the
sunlight, and yours kind of burned up against the shield. Maybe. But neither of
ours left behind a body to be declared dead at the scene. What is going on?"
"Peter?" Father Marty tapped on the door frame as he peered around it. His gaze landed on us, then shifted to the other end of the office. Pastor Rocky had his head in his hands again. I was pretty sure he was praying. And knowing him, grieving for the friends he had known so long ago, and had lost when he chose God over Magna Magma.
"Did they have anybody left behind?" Pastor Rocky said, raising his head. "How do we reach out to their families, whoever is grieving right now, when we wouldn't have anything to do with the reunion? What good can we do?" He took a shuddering, deep breath. "We failed them, trying to keep our hands clean."
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