Laura hasn’t ever told anyone, too afraid even to try to save herself from damnation. She’s sitting in church; she hates herself for being there, on holy ground, the way she is.
“I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation,” the man in the tan coat says, then, “I’m God.”
He isn’t God, Laura thinks, he can’t be: God’s job is to condemn.
And then Reverend Phil chokes and crumples and dies, and Laura stares after God as He walks out of the church with something almost hopeful bleeding through the terror in her heart.