Kate thought how much her husband---her ex-husband, she corrected herself--would have hated this room. He liked things with clean edges, uncluttered. Surgical, Kate thought, and then she thought about Betty, and how much she had failed her.

Well, she'd--she thought of the bad word her husband would have used, and could not bring herself to say it, even in her mind--she'd, yes, she could say this, screwed this up too. Suicide. She couldn't even commit a mortal sin correctly.

She imagined confessing the sin to Father. "Bless me father, for I have sinned, it has been two weeks since my last confession...and if I'd been successful at what I was trying to do, I'd be burning in hell."

And he'd understand, because he was one of those New Gentle Priests who saw everything in relative terms.

Kate heard a sound, halfway between a moan and croak.

She was laughing.