After supper, they sat with hot herbal tea, sweet rolls, and honey while a music channel played softly on the television. Both settled into the armchairs and watched the evening program. The boy clearly enjoyed the songs and rhythms. Eleanor, meanwhile, could not shake one thought: his eyes reminded her of a stray dog’s after it has finally learned that a human hand can be kind.
She made up a bed for him on the sofa that had once belonged to her son, then went to her own room. The day had been unexpectedly emotional. For the first time in a long while, she felt useful again. Her heart was full of a fierce desire to protect this wounded boy from whatever else life might throw at him. She lay awake for hours, staring into the dark and replaying the evening in her mind.
She was bracing herself for the same heavy, dreamless sleep that had become routine when a faint rustling sound came from the living room. At first she assumed the boy was just restless. But the sound grew closer, and soon it was clear that he was quietly making his way into her room. Eleanor stayed still, watching him through barely opened eyes.
Her vision had adjusted to the dark enough for her to make out his tense figure moving on tiptoe. Holding her breath, she listened to the pounding in her ears. In his hand was some small object she couldn’t identify. He stopped by the head of her bed, hesitating, as though weighing whether to go through with whatever he had come to do.
Panicked thoughts flashed through her mind. What was he doing? They barely knew each other. Then he leaned over her, close enough to make her freeze. His hand slipped quickly under her pillow and back out again. She felt only the slightest shift in the fabric beneath her head before he began backing toward the doorway.
Just as he was about to disappear into the hall, her nerves gave way. “Elijah? You awake? Do you need something?” she whispered into the dark. He stammered that everything was fine, but she sat up at once and switched on the bedside lamp. The sudden light made him squint and raise a hand to shield his face.
Without saying anything, Eleanor slid her hand under the pillow and pulled out a lightweight object. In the yellow glow of the lamp, she stared at it in surprise. It was a small laminated prayer card showing the Virgin Mary against a deep blue background—worn at the corners from years of handling…
