“She’s never going to tell us.”
“She might.”
“What makes you think that?” I asked.
“Some enlightened self-interest might persuade her. Say, a hundred-dollar donation to her canteen funds or something. Who knows?”
“Bribe her?”
“Sure. Why not? Don’t you want to know?”
“I know what happened to him, Jack.”
“How could you know?”
“Because it happened to me, in case you forgot.”
“You’re talking about the thing with Father Michael?”
“Yes. The thing.I was a lot older than four years old, but still. It was pretty rough, and I was never the same afterward. I used to wake up during the night, afraid someone was in my room. And when it was dark, I couldn’t look out the windows because I was terrified I’d see a face there. Someone coming to get me. Not some monster like Frankenstein, but a man. Some guy. Some man. So…yeah. I know what it is. But Tony doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t know how to talk about it.”