“I, Marcus Lennox Stearns, make my profession, and I promise to Almighty God, in the presence of the Virgin Mother, the whole heavenly court and all those here present, and to you, Reverend Father Haas, representing the Superior General of the Society of Jesus and his successor and holding the place of God, perpetual poverty, chastity and obedience...”

The vow recitation continued until every last priest had said his final commitment. The rest of the Mass passed in a haze. In the heat and the humidity and the fear she would fail at her task, Nora could barely concentrate on the words. Not that it mattered. She knew the Catholic Mass by heart. The words were tattooed on her mind and branded on her soul. She rattled them off without thinking.

When the final hymn was sung and the time came for everyone to leave, Claire put her arm around Nora’s waist and together they walked down the aisle. A few minutes later the fifteen priests who’d taken their public and private vows appeared on the street to be greeted by their loved ones.

“Go,” Nora said to Claire. “You’re the only family he has here. He’ll want you to meet his church.”

“Can I see you again?” Claire asked. “He’s leaving and I don’t...” She stopped and swallowed hard, catching her breath. “I’d like to be around someone who knows him and loves him. I know it’s not the best idea but would you consider it?”

“Maybe lunch?”

“I’d like that.” Claire smiled and Nora could see her fighting tears.

“So would I.”

“Are you going to talk to him?” Claire asked, desperation in her eyes and hope in her voice.

“I’ll wait until he’s alone. Go. He needs you.”

“He needs you,” Claire said. “But I’ll go tackle-hug him in my own special way. He probably needs that, too, even if he won’t admit it.”

“But be gentle. He’s still recovering from the accident.”

“I’ll tackle-hug him gently,” Claire said and squeezed Nora’s hand one more time before releasing her. She ran to Søren, and Nora laughed as she saw Claire, now a grown woman of twenty-nine, throw herself into her big brother’s arms the way she had all those years ago when Nora had gone with him to his father’s funeral. Nora was grateful for Claire’s presence in his life. She was Søren’s solid ground, and she had a gift for taking that pompous priest and turning him back into a human being with one tackle-hug and a playful insult.

“Frater!” Claire said, clinging to him as if she’d die the second she let go of him.

“Behave yourself, Soror,” Søren said, patting her on top of her head. “Don’t scare my congregation. They’re under the impression you’re the normal one in the family, and we wouldn’t want to disillusion them.”

From a distance of about twenty feet, Nora watched as Søren introduced Claire to every member of Sacred Heart who’d come to his profession of Final Vows. Nora could see from their faces and hear from their words that none of them knew yet Søren was leaving forever that week. Knowing Søren he’d decided to depart without a long drawn-out goodbye. No going-away parties. No fanfare. Only an announcement from the pulpit made by the interim priest that Father Marcus Stearns had been called to the mission field. He sends his love and asks for your prayers.

With any help from God and a little luck, no one would be making that announcement.

When at last the final parishioner had give Søren a handshake or a hug or a kiss on the cheek, Nora stepped out of the shadows and walked to him. Claire said something in his ear and walked away after throwing Nora one last pleading look.

An eerie calm came over Nora. A calm and a focus that seemed to come from outside herself. She was a woman on a mission and the mission was all that mattered.

She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a folded rectangle of paper.

“I’m glad you came, Eleanor,” Søren said. “It’s good to see you in church again.”

They were in public. The chance of being overheard was too great to speak the truth to each other. They’d hide behind platitudes and code words. But she didn’t have to hide, not with what she wanted to say to him.

“It was good to be in church again. Maybe I’m not so lapsed after all.”

“I could have told you that,” he said. “Claire’s taking me to dinner this evening if you’d like to join us. I think you two would get along swimmingly.”

“I have other plans. Just wanted to stop by and give you something.”

“You don’t give a gift to a priest upon taking Final Vows,” he said. “It’s not like a First Communion.”

“What I want to give you is a Bible verse. I memorized it for you. Is that an acceptable gift?”

“Always,” he said. “What’s the verse?”

“The Book of Ruth, chapter one, verses sixteen and seventeen.” Nora took a breath and recited by heart. “‘Do not ask me to leave you or forsake you for wherever you go I will go, wherever you stay I will stay, your people shall be my people and your God my God. Wherever you die, there I will be buried. May the Lord do so and more beside if anything but death separates us.’”

Then she handed him the folded piece of paper from her pocket, the one she’d acquired on her very special errand.

“Eleanor, this is an airplane ticket in your name.”

“Destination Syria,” she said. “Where you go, I go. If you go to Syria, I go with you. And I won’t come home until you come home. I will not leave you. I will not forsake you. Where you die, I will be buried. And those are my Final Vows.”

Then she took her ticket out of his hand, turned and walked away.

She meant every word of her vow. If he was going into a war zone, she would go, too. Nothing could stop her. Going with him to Syria was the one trump card left in her hand. She’d made the largest bet of her life, and she wasn’t bluffing.

Nora went to Kingsley’s town house and found him sitting in his office, staring out the window at nothing, nothing at all.

Kingsley glanced over his shoulder at her and then turned back to the windows.

Nora sat on the desk behind him and waited. A moment later Kingsley turned in his chair and rested his head in her lap. He’d fired her two days ago but none of that mattered now. She combed her fingers through his dark hair as if he were a sick child who needed a mother’s touch.

“How long have you been sitting here brooding?” she asked.

“For hours.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me,” she said, tugging his earlobe.

“I forget sometimes you need a life outside of work.”

“I do. But you’ll be happy to know I will never ever be seeing Thorny again during work or after hours.”

Kingsley took a heavy breath. She felt his chest moving against her knees.

“That doesn’t make me happy. Relieved, yes. But not happy. I do want you to be happy.” He looked up at her with wounded eyes, open and vulnerable, and she caught a glimpse of the teenage boy he’d been when Søren had first loved him.

“By going back to Søren?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Why?” Nora touched Kingsley’s face, brushing her fingers over his cheek.

“It’ll keep him here.”

Nora tilted his chin up to meet her eyes, dominant talking to submissive now.

“Is that the only reason?”

“I miss him,” Kingsley said, whispering the words like a confession. “I miss how things used to be with the three of us. And I know how much he loves you. I wish I could imagine you with someone other than him, but I can’t. I wish I could imagine the three of us moving on and having our own lives without each other, but I can’t. Fuck, I even miss getting shit-faced with him at the rectory. We ended up on the roof once, and I still don’t remember how we got down. I miss him, Elle. It’s not even the sex. We haven’t had sex in over ten years. It’s him. It’s us. It’s our friendship. No, not that.” Kingsley looked up at her with sorrow in his eyes. “He’s all the family I have. If he leaves, he’ll take my family away from me.”