I rubbed my left thumb across my right knuckles.

“I will never forgive you,” I said.

“Not today, and not ten years from today, I suppose.”

Higgins let his hand drop to his side.

He took off his glasses and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“What are you planning to do?” Arthur asked.

“You’re going to walk out into that sanctuary,” I said to Higgins.

“You’re going to stand at the wooden pulpit and read the funeral scripture to the congregation.”