Chapter 9

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"I'm sorry, my memory fails me at this age," the priest's reply came in a husky voice.

"Then let me remind you," she started, slight hint of anger hiding behind her weary voice, "The Christmas party went to late night and everyone was having a good time. My husband was really angry with me- we fought.

He resorted to extreme wine drinking that day. Wine, whisky, anything, everything. He was so drunk that some of his friends had to take him home.

My dad and my mentor had already left, so it was like I was left alone.

The wine had numbed my brain and I started feeling dizzy, so an angel offered me and my mentor a ride back home in his car."

The priest cleared his throat again; she could feel that he had started to go restless. "That would be me, if my memory hasn't failed me."

"Yes, that was you, Father," she said, "You took me home safe and watched me get into the house. But do you know anything that happened after that?"

The priest remained silent, dumbstruck by the verbal assail.

Annette had seen him. Whilst she was bent over the desk, taking in the pain, she had seen the priest. When her hair was grabbed and pulled back, she had seen the holy man watching them through the window sill, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Yes, the priest had witnessed the entire night's tragic turn of events, yet he bore it inside him like a secret well kept for the greater good.

The only thing she needed to know was why?

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