Page 18 of Broken

Never.

I used the months in self-imposed purdah to learn about you. You’re my next charge. You need me, and I need you. You’ll understand me, and I’ll understand you.

You are the bone of my bones.

One day soon, I’ll come to visit you in your parish in Rome—yes, I know where you live. (Not that that will come as a surprise when this letter shows up at your door.) I’ve studied the many articles about you, watched thetrajectory of your career, and even asked Charles, my charge, who’s an ethical hacker, to give me your file from your archdiocese. My, you do move around a lot, don’t you?

You’re like me, but I get the feeling the reason for that is different…

It might also be why you never receive my letters.

Hopefully, you won’t move on again until I get to meet you.

The doctors said the cyst needed to be cut out, but it was as much a part of me as my green eyes... they’d even told me it had been in my head for over two decades, gradually getting bigger and bigger until it started affecting me around the age of seventeen.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I came across ‘the boy I failed’ or that you were taken by those animals that year.

I know what you want to ask but daren’t…

The weight of the wings isn’t there anymore, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel them. I haven’t lost my calling, either.

YOU are my calling, Father Savio.

I realize that now.

You will too.

Yours,

Andrea Jura

CHAPTER 12

From the desk of Andrea Jura

BORGO PIO, ROME

PRESENT DAY

Dear Father Savio,

I’m going to find you today.

At long last, we’re standing on the same soil!!

Rome is beautiful. I haven’t had a chance to explore much, but I already know it’s what I need—a new leaf. A fresh start. Fewer people to hover over me… Though, I’m surprised by how many Italians are aware of who I am. In the airport, I noticed it first. Even the agent managing my apartment recognized me. Annoying. I think I’ll have to wear sunglasses and a hat to shield my face.

Will you recognize me, I wonder? Do you know my name? Have you read one of my books?

It’s funny how you’ve been a part of my life for so long while being totally unaware of who I am. (Either that or you’re just rude.) I’m beyond ready for you to know me as well as I know you.

You can’t be freaked out by how much I’ve gleaned about you over the years. I have a whole file on you now. It’s like a patchwork of different screenshots. Articles here, reports there. Small church newsletters, some pieces you wrote in seminary where you spoke about your relationship with your faith.

Diana knows I’m intrigued by you and she gives me a hard time about it, so I know this collated folder may be a touch unusual. But it was created with the best of intentions.

During my treatment, I needed a way to connect with you without writing to you.

I couldn’t put you through my passing if you do read these letters. I couldn’t put you through, one day, never receiving another because I was dead.

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