When Stan and Vicky found us, Faith and I had been beaten and robbed and left for dead. They took us in and fed us and cleaned our wounds. We were so disoriented that we did not know what had happened or how to go on. The gang that got us was not of the club and knife wielding sort and the wounds they inflicted were not physical, which would have made helping us more straightforward. As it was, we needed the peculiar abilities and the large measure of grace Stan and Vicky had devoted their lives to developing and dispensing. Continue reading “A Rumor of Angels”