“It is,” Luke answered, “but the cardinal thought it better that I wear more typical clothes that belong to his secretaries. Luckily, one of the men is close to my size.”

“You wear what you like,” Sana said. “We will be going out to dinner in a half-hour or so. You do have time to take a shower if you so please. I am about to do so. Otherwise, we’ll meet you downstairs in the living room.”

Shawn, Sana, and Luke arrived back at the Daughtrys’ home in a taxi just before nine-thirty p.m. The dinner at Cipriani Downtown had gone pleasantly enough until Luke had tried to turn the conversation over to his mission. Shawn, with almost as much alcohol on board as he’d had the night before, had used the opportunity to inform Luke that he was facing an impossible task, and the sooner he faced the reality, the better for them all. When Luke persisted, Shawn had gotten angry, and then the atmosphere had steadily disintegrated to where Shawn had refused to talk to Luke, whom he persisted on calling derogatorily “boy.”

“Are you retiring for the night?” Shawn asked Sana, avoiding talking with Luke.

“I think I’ll stay up for a little while with Luke,” Sana whispered. “I don’t want to have Luke report back to James that he’s not being received hospitably.”

“Good idea,” Shawn said, reaching out to steady himself with the banister leading up the front stairs. “What time do you want to leave here in the morning to get to the OCME DNA building?”

“How about after nine?” Sana said. “That will give me time to make breakfast for our guest so we get a good report.”

“Another good idea,” Shawn said, slurring his words. “See you in the morning.”

As Shawn slowly rose and disappeared up the stairs, Sana turned toward Luke. “How about a fire in the fireplace?” she suggested.

Luke shrugged. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced the pleasure of a fire. In some ways, he was nervous about enjoying himself too much after the disappointing evening, as he was depressed about his chances of overcoming Satan.

“Come on!” Sana said encouragingly. “Let’s build the fire together.”

Fifteen minutes later the two were sitting on the couch, mesmerized by the crackling fire that was beginning to spread upward from the kindling into the piled logs. Sana had a glass of wine, while Luke had a Coke. It was Sana who broke the silence. “The archbishop told us you’ve not had an easy life. Do you mind sharing with me your story?”

“Not at all,” Luke said. “It is not a secret. I share it with those who will listen, as it is a tribute to the Blessed Virgin.”

“We were told you had run away from home at age eighteen to join the monastery. Can I ask why?”