Chapter Text
While Mr. Foyle speaks with the vicar, Sam tramps across the muddy snow and slips into the old parish church. It's empty on this sunlit Tuesday morning, slanted light from tall windows falling on carved oak benches and a stone floor worn by generations of faithful feet.
She slips into a pew and sits, closing her eyes and listening to the silence. Sam isn’t sure if she believes, any longer, in the God of her childhood. But she asks, nonetheless, what God might think of her reverence for Susan’s smile.
“I think I might … be happy, you see,” she whispers.