She pressed her hands together in front of her face and said the prayers that had meant nothing to her as a child, empty words to recite so her parents would be happy. Now, each word seemed desperately important. "Holy Mary, Mother of God ... You were a mother, please, don't let them take my son." Jenny sat back on the pew and turned toward the figure of Jesus. "Don't take my boy. He's my life. I can't go on without him. I'm not that strong. If this is a test, I've failed." She paused. "Take me instead. Let Danny live. He has so much ahead of him. I know he was a gift to me. He brought me joy at a moment in my life that was so bleak. Please, God, don't take that gift away, not yet." Jenny's voice broke off. All she could hear was silence. Luke slipped into the pew beside her. He took her hand in his. They sat silently for a long moment, two people irrevocably tied together by their child. His quiet strength gave her hope. Her anxiety faded, replaced by a strange sort of acceptance. "Is he gone?" she whispered.
