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something. She went down to the church to have a chat with Nora. She would know what to do. She always did before.
    Jacinta blessed herself at the old stone font and stepped inside. The church was almost empty, just a few old people seeking solace in the shadows, every little noise they made echoing to the wooden beams above.
    She made her way through the flickering shadows to the little side altar and lit a tea candle from the sputtering flame of another. She knelt in the first pew and lowered her head and prayed to the statue of Mary, standing forever between them and God, almost shapeless in her long white shift, under the pale blue mantle, her sandaled foot crushing the serpent that slithered around the world.
    Jacinta always prayed there; it was where Nora would find her when she came.
    Nora would listen to her and the news she brought. She would never speak but Jacinta could always feel her censure. She and Jerry had always been a disappointment to the old woman but she never spoke about that anymore. Instead she would just listen as Jacinta poured out all that troubled her.
    And even when Jacinta was finished unloading her burdens, the old woman would not speak. She didn’t have to. Jacinta knew she would intercede on her behalf, interceding with God’s own mother, interceding on behalf of her daughter-in-law who could never be strong enough to bear her own burdens.
    Jacinta knew her mother-in-law had never approved of her but she’d still help—for her grandson’s sake if nothing else. That was Jacinta’s one solace: Nora Boyle would never turn her back on them. She would move the powers of Heaven and Earth for her grandson.
    “It’s Danny,” Jacinta spoke softly, keeping their business private. “I’m worried sick about him. I think he’s into drugs again and I worry that he’ll end up like the poor Scully boy they found dead this morning.”
    Nora didn’t answer so Jacinta continued.
    “I know that Jerry and I are to blame. We should have been better parents for him but we’re trying now. Please, Mrs. Boyle. Is there anything you can do to help us?”
    Nora didn’t answer and Jacinta waited. Her mother-in-law liked to make her wait. She probably wanted her to know that things took time, that she couldn’t just ask and have everything put to right. She and Jerry would never learn anything if all of their problems were solved whenever they asked.
    No. Nora Boyle would make her wait for a little while so Jacinta prayed and dedicated her rosary to the Blessed Virgin, saying each prayer slowly so the words would not get all jumbled together.
    “Hail Mary, full of grace. Our Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”

CHAPTER 3
    Fr. Reilly waited for her by the door. He had seen Jacinta deep in prayer and didn’t want to intrude. Instead he pottered around, rearranging pamphlets and tidying up the noticeboard until she rose and came toward him.
    “Mrs. Boyle. Are you well?” he whispered as he held the door open for her, letting the sunlight into the shadows.
    “As good as can be expected, given what’s happening.”
    “Yes, Mrs. Boyle,” Fr. Reilly agreed as they walked from the church. “I did hear the news. It’s shocking to think that we have gotten to the point where human life means so little.”
    It was all the comfort a childless man could offer. He glanced across at her, wondering how she was dealing with it, her being a bit delicate, and all. He saw the same fear he had seen in the faces of parishioners before. Fear and doubt about how to steer their children through a world that had changed so much. Evil was washing over Ireland again and there was nothing he and all the priests and bishops could offer but to cling to the Faith–a Faith that had never delivered them from the pain and anguishes of the past, but it was all they had.
    “It is,