The first person they saw was not Rev. O'Bryan or Michael but Agnes who came running towards Angelique as soon as she caught sight of her.

"Thank God you're here!" she wept as Angelique hugged the woman, who was obviously distraught from the ordeal.

John watched Angelique with amazement. Two minutes ago, she looked like she would shatter and now... she was holding onto Mrs. Duncan with all the instincts of a mother comforting a young child. She was solid as a rock, ready for someone to lean on. Only it wasn't a child's sobs she was trying to soothe, but a sixty-five-year-old woman.

"Shh... Mrs. Duncan, it will be all right. I'm here. Let's sit for a while."

Just seeing Angelique holding her hand seemed to bring Agnes a sense of peace. She took a few deep breaths and blew her nose in a now saturated handkerchief. She sat down on one of the visitor couches, refusing to relinquish Angelique's hand.

"Do you think you're well enough to tell me what happened?"

Mrs. Duncan nodded, not trusting her voice yet. It was all so awful she did not know if she could, but she had to be strong for Angelique. Taking another deep breath, she began.

"The Reverend had the ten o'clock prayer service for the school children. I was waiting for him to come back because today is the day I usually go food shopping for the rectory and your father always drives me into town. Only today he was running late and I had thought it odd."

"Oh, Angelique, it was so horrible. We are so lucky they are even alive." Angelique gave the woman's hand a squeeze for support.

Mrs. Duncan continued, "I was doing dishes, and I looked at the church from the window. Suddenly, there was this smoke, this dark black smoke, billowing out of one of the open stained-glass windows. I immediately called Michael, and he ran over to investigate."

"He told the police two teenage boys nearly bowled him over on his way to the church, as he ran into the building. Well...," Agnes couldn't hold back any longer. A fresh stream of tears began.

"The church was in flames someone had knocked over the stand of vigil candles. The place didn't have a chance with most of the interior being wood."

"You mean... it's gone?" Angelique asked, stunned.

Agnes shook her head yes, still in disbelief herself, even though she'd seen it with her own eyes. St. Joe's had burned to the ground.

"The firefighters, they put up a good fight, God bless them but it was too late. Michael suffered some burns and lacerations, but mostly, he's okay. He was so brave. Running in there to find your father but when he found him he was already... Oh, Angel, I've never known such horrors as I did, seeing Michael carrying the Reverend's limp body from the burning building. I was sure he was dead."

"The paramedics assured us he was merely unconscious. Michael thought it was the smoke that had got to him, but they told him he had a heart attack. He's still unconscious, Angelique, but I know... if there is one voice to get through to him, it would be yours. Michael and your father are in the same room dear, room 4025. It's just up the corridor and to your left."

It surprised Angelique she had the strength to stand after hearing the story of what took place, but she managed just fine. "I'll go look in on them now," she said.

"I'll go with you," John piped in.

He was sitting there so quietly that she had almost forgotten he came with her. Almost. Biting at her bottom lip, she had to think quickly, but she knew only honesty would do. She didn't want John there when she had to see them for the first time. Her world was unraveling at an alarming rate, and she just didn't want to fall to pieces in front of him.

"John, if you don't mind. I really would appreciate it if I went in first, by myself."

"Angel, I understand the Reverend has taken care of you most of your life. I get that, but you forget Michael has been my responsibility for most of mine. I wish to see him, now, if you don't mind?"

Agnes, sensing the tension increasing between the two, stepped in to say something. When she found they were together, she half hoped they had reconciled their differences. However, by the looks they exchanged with one another, it would seem she was wrong.

Placing a hand on John's arm, she asked rather timidly, "John, dear, would you mind taking me to the cafeteria? I have eaten nothing all day and don't know my way around. I really should eat or drink something to keep up my strength and I really don't want to be alone."

John recognized someone throwing themselves at the mercy of the court, and to keep the peace at the moment, he conceded. Linking arms with the older woman, he smiled down at her. "You got yourself a date, young lady." The way she blushed at his words was endearing.

Swatting John's arm, she chided, "Shame on you, Jonathan McDougal."

"We'll be back soon," she said to Angelique, and John led her away.

The walk down the hall was a short one, but for Angelique, it would seem like a million miles away. The door was closed, and there was an officer sitting outside of the doorway. He would have acknowledged her but somehow sensed she needed this time to gather her nerve to face what was on the other side of the door.

After taking a few deep breaths. Angelique steeled herself for whatever she might find. Pushing the door open. The first person she had seen was Michael. There was a curtain pulled between the beds and she could hear someone talking on the other side. Half-hopeful her father had awakened. She was about to take another step forward, but Michael raised his bandaged hand for her to stay.

"He's with the docs right now, Angelgirl. You'll be able to see him in a minute or two."

Michael had some sutures on his forehead covering over a nasty cut near his hairline, some minor scratches on his face and arms, and both his hands were completely bandaged from being burnt. Angel sat on the edge of his bed, closest to the curtain. Looking at his stitches, she gingerly lifted his bangs to get a better look and then winced at the sight of it.

"Does it hurt much?" she asked.

"Nah, I'm sure it looks worse than it is. The doc who sewed it up said it shouldn't leave that noticeable of a scar and besides it will give me one more excuse to tell your Dad why I shouldn't cut my hair."

Angelique spontaneously laughed. It felt good.

"You always can make me smile," she said warmly, "but shouldn't I be consoling you?"

"Who me? No way, I'm a McDougal remember? We're made of much tougher stuff."

Thinking of how strong John was during this trauma, she had to agree. Her smile, however, quickly became a look of concern. Michael put one bandaged mitt on her arm. "Angel, he'll be okay. He's the most stubborn man I know and I'm positive he's prepared for the fight."

Angelique looked back at Michael. "How is he really? Have they told you anything yet?"

"Well, the information has been sketchy. I've only arrived here about half an hour ago. I'm really not supposed to be in this ward, but I told them I didn't want us to be separated. What I do know is that the attack was massive. They've been in here twice already to do tests and check his vitals. I'm sure it's all routine stuff though," he added to soothe Angelique.

"He has to pull through this. I don't know what I'd do without him. He's the only father I've ever known. And...it...it may have been my fault entirely."

Michael looked over at Angelique with concern. She was visibly shaking.

"How could you have known something like this would happen? It was just some stupid kids, who thought it might be fun to do some vandalism to the church. Most likely they didn't even know he was in there."

"No, Michael you're wrong. John... he tried to warn me, but my stubborn pride... I just wouldn't listen. I thought I could handle it. I thought I had it covered."

Michael's compassion turned to anger as he demanded, "What does John have to do with any of this?"

Angelique knew it was important to explain this properly. If anyone was to blame here, it was her, not John. "He was over at my apartment last night. He had heard that the hearing with Bobby was today and was concerned something may happen to me. Danny Caldwell is handling Bobby's case."

"Damn it! That no-good, son of a ..."

"Michael, please!" she interrupted him. "Name-calling is not going to help."

"No, most likely not," he agreed, "but it makes me feel slightly better." Danny has been a bully his entire life. How John could work for the firm his father owns still baffled Michael.

Angelique smiled at him again, then frowned. "They don't want that case to go through. I guess Bobby's gang thought they would get to me through my father. But I can't help but wonder... how did they know who he was or how to find him?"

Angelique looked at what she could only describe as horror on Michael's face.

"Not your father, Angel." It was too horrible to think. "Me. That's who they were after. I was supposed to hold services for the school children today. It was a prayer service, not a mass. I was running late from my rounds as Eucharistic Minister for the shut-ins and had asked your Dad if he would mind filling in."

When Angelique looked confused, he said, "Don't you see?" Tears slid down his cheeks. "I was the one that was supposed to be in that building. What better way to win a case than to take out the most incriminating of witnesses? The soon-to-be priest?"

Gathering Michael into her arms, Angel pleaded with him not to blame himself. They both cried together for the father they both shared.

John was about to enter the room until he saw Angelique being comforted by his brother. Or was it the other way around? Either way, she was in his arms. Was this why she wanted to go first. So that they could have a moment to be alone together? It hurt deeply, but he couldn't quite bring himself to interrupt them. Even though the envy he felt was overwhelming enough to do just that.

He watched them through the glass slit in the door and although he wished he were the one with Angelique gathered in his arms. If he was honest, she had chosen the better man. Why did he ever let her go? It was a decision that he knew would haunt him for the rest of his days. Unable to stand seeing them together anymore, he left them alone.

For a moment Angelique swore she felt John's presence. Whenever he was near, his emotions were so strong they were nearly a tangible thing. She thought she felt him watching her, but as she lifted her head from Michael's shoulder to steal a glance at the doorway, no one was there. Could it have been her imagination?