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Now the hardcover lay heavy in her lap, feeling a little like David in her wo his crosswords andto himself And her baby inside her

And now she had only a book to keep her company No, she roused herself Not just a book She had Bea and Kaye They ith her too, and would be until the end

Em saw the book, heavy ords, rise and fall on her stoh She was only halfway there É it in both hands, and read so herself in the story She hoped it would have a happy ending That the woman would find love and happiness Or h

The book closed again as Em’s eyes closed

Mother Bea could see the future and it didn’t look good It never had Even in the best of ti the worst It was a quality that hadn’t served her well Living in the wreckage of her future sure took the joy out of the present The only comfort was that almost none of her fears had come true The planes had never crashed, the elevators never pluht, her husband had left her, but that wasn’t exactly a disaster So prophecy She’d forced him away He’d always complained that there were too many in their relationship Beatrice, hio

It wasn’tin her soft and warm flannel sheets, the duvet heavy around her plump body She’d chosen God over her husband, but the truth was she’d have chosen a good eiderdown over him too

This was her favorite place in the whole orld In bed in her home, safe and sound So why couldn’t she sleep? Why couldn’t she meditate any more? Why couldn’t she even eat?

Kaye lay in bed issuing orders to the young and frightened infantrymen around her in the trench Their flat, shallow helmets were askew and their faces dirty with muck and shit and the first flush of whiskers The first and last, she knew, but chose not to tell the speech and assured them she’d be the first out of the trench when the time came, then led them in a heartfelt chorus of ‘Rule Britannia’

They’d all die soon, she knew And Kaye curled herself into the tightest ball, ashamed of the cowardice she’d carried all her life like a child in the woe

‘I’m sorry,’ said Peter, for the hundredth tiot it from the dump, but that you lied about it,’ Clara lied It was that he’d gotten the goddae for Christ else She’d ood with her hands, and he’d dumpster dive, because he wasn’t, then they’d both pretend to like their gifts

But this was different They could afford it now, and still he’d chosen to shop at the duh but not knoas

‘Forget it,’ she said

He was sh to know that wouldn’t be very smart

Gamache sat beside Beauvoir He’d h the fever had broken Gamache could only find one hot water bottle and wondered what had happened to the other Now he sat, so the heavy book in his lap

He’d read Isaiah just to be sure then turned to the Psalotten back to the B & B and Father Néron had given hiood to see you Christmas Eve, Armand,’ Father Néron had said Gahter She looks like Reine-Marie, lucky child’ Gaether Too bad you’ll be in Hell and won’t be able to spend eternity with therave;re, they’ll be in Hell too’

Père Néron had laughed ‘Suppose I’ to church every week?’ he asked

‘Then I’ll miss your cheerful company for eternity, Marcel’

‘What can I do for you?’

Gamache had told him

‘Not Isaiah That’s Psalm 46 Not sure which verse One of my favorites, actually, but not very popular with the bosses’