From the window, the glorious day outside, and the vision he had made for himself of Marette Radisson, Kent turned at the sound of a hand at his door and saw it slowly open.

He was expecting it.

He had read young Mercer like a book.

Mercer's nervousness and the increased tightening of the thing in his chest had given him warning.

The thing was going to happen soon, and Father Layonne had come.