Where was he?

And she wanted desperately to know about their child. Was she still pregnant? Had the baby survived?

She thought these questions very strongly, and hoped the priest would pick them up, and answer her back.

But he didn’t.

She knew he’d heard her thoughts, and was choosing not to respond. He was forcing her to ask these questions aloud. And, as he probably knew, they were questions she was afraid to ask.

“And what of Caleb?” she finally asked, her voice shaking. She was too nervous to ask about her child.

She looked over at him and saw his smile fade, as the slightest wince crossed his face.

Her heart dropped.

Please, she thought. Please don’t tell me bad news.

“Some things you’re going to have to find out for yourself,” he said slowly. “Some things I am not meant to tell you. It is a journey you must take. You and you alone.”

“But is he here?” she asked hopefully. “Did he make it?”

The priest, walking alongside her, tightened his lips. He let her questions hang in the air, unanswered, for what felt like forever.

Finally, they stopped before another flight of steps, and he turned and looked at her. “I wish I could tell you more,” he said. “I really do.”

He turned, raised his torch, and led the way down another small flight of steps.

They entered a long, vaulted corridor, all the ceilings here gilded and intricately designed. They were entirely covered with frescoes, brightly designed, and in between them were arches, lined with gold. The ceiling shone.

So did the floor. It was a beautiful, pink marble, and looked freshly cleaned. This subterranean level of the church was gorgeous, looked like an ancient treasure chamber.

“Wow,” Caitlin heard herself say out loud. “What is this place?”