Chapter 21

Gladstone slept poorly.

He locked himself in his study all night and prayed. Kneeling, clasping his hands together, and resting his forehead against the back of his hands, he begged God. But God remained silent. Only the candle flame flickered faintly, making the shadows in the room sway as if they were the breath of God.

Prayer was truly a curious act. When an answer came, it became gratitude; when no answer came, it became a trial. Yet the most cruel part was the moment when one could not stop praying even though no answer came.

For Gladstone, last night...