Chapter 5Twenty minutes later, halfway up Summit Crescent, Henley slowed down to catch his breath. He pulled out his earphones and checked his phone. The battery was at fifteen percent. That phone was getting old, the battery dying on him every day. As he looked around the narrow street, the sun was in his eyes. He squinted at the Saint-Joseph oratory, at its giant dome looming over the homes near his own. He remembered the stories his sister Lucy had told him about Frère André, and how the shy door keeper had cured the sick with his miraculous hands. Lucy had often prayed to the Little Saint, asking to be cured of her acne. She’d never learned to love herself.
“Oh, Lucy,” he whispered, staring at the cross on top of the dome. “I’m sorry.”
“Excuse me,” a woman said behind him.
Surprised
