The chapel is empty at this time of night. Only the marble Lady bathed in candlelight welcomes me into the eerie glow of the room.

A figure steps from behind the statue. He's hairy—definitely not Simon.

"Sister Janika! What a pleasure to see you back again," he says with all the conviction of a dog reunited with its bone.

"Hey, Brother Roy."

He takes my hands in his beefy paws and holds them to his chest. "It is such a joy to have you here with us, Sister. Praise the Lady!"

"Hallelujah." I'm trying to be enthusiastic. Really, I am. "Have you seen my dad, Roy?"

"Brother Simon? He's been in and out. If you wait here for him, I'm sure he'll be back in a bit. I saw him step out not too long ago. He looks like he's seen better days."

"Does the Lady not let news penetrate the walls of the mighty Heap either?"

"Oh, I've heard about the Sink." He sighs, lowers his eyes, and wrings his thick hands together. "Although, I'm not a supporter of your establishment, what with the distribution of libations and lewd behavior, I am heavily dampened to see such a lively soul as Brother Simon's enduring such suffering." He scans the back of the room as if pitying a ghost who haunts the seat there. "It is a bleak day when our livelihoods are ripped from our hands. Or in this case, burned from them."

"Do you mind if I wait for him here?"

He clasps his hands over mine and squeezes them tight. "Not at all. This is a joy, my dear girl, a wonderful joy! Thank the Lady that you've come home to Her. Her hand reaches to all her children who search for their Mother. Praise the Lady you've come back to Her!"

"I'm just waiting for my dad, Roy."

"Would you like a pamphlet?"

I try to pull my hands back when I feel them begin to moisten. "What for?" This place is insufferably warm with all those candles burning around us. The glow is soft, but the heat is suffocating.

"I can send you all sorts of reading. I wrote them myself."

I want to hightail it and run, but I remember Roy. I remember the pudgy, sweet kid who had no friends but still wanted to smile at the world.

"Sure, Roy," I exhale. "That sounds great."

With one finger, he swipes multiple files at me from his PAHLM.

The back row of the chapel is the coolest. Shadows encompass it, far from the candles' reach with their light or their heat. My PAHLM alert buzzes.

There are Worse Things than Rust: The Heapist Guide to Surviving Depression

Rolling my eyes and slumping into the back of the chapel, I stare at the altar.

The Lady sits there above the rubble and broken marble around her. Her hand stretches out to her side. Candles litter the area where her feet would have been. Silver medallions dangle from her fingertips. From where I conduct my observations, she looks as if she's part of the heap—as if her body springs from the broken stones like a sapling from a dirt barrel.

The bench depresses beside me.

Simon's weary face meets mine. He smiles without mirth. After the hell we've gone through, I forget how easy it is to make those faces and not have them mean a damn thing.

"What's wrong?" I stop my eyes from rolling back in exasperation.

"Just tired." He sags into the bench.

"Where have you been? I was hoping you hadn't thrown yourself into some other fire after your precious Sink. I haven't heard from you all month."

He chuckles. "Nah. Don't need that old junkyard. I'm thinking newer, bigger, better, rust-less-er."

"I don't think that can exist down here. You're reaching for a pipe dream."

"Yeah, probably."

We sit in complete silence, observing the little flames flutter on their wicks.

The minutes stretch and expand. Brother Roy bustles about, replacing extinguished candles with new ones, running a damp cloth over the form of the Lady to keep her naked from the dust, and welcoming the occasional visitor.

A small vibration runs through my hand again.

I open the downloaded file.

It's all Junk: Giving up the Sin of Juice to Start a New Future of Purity

I settle into a half-hearted attempt at reading the ridiculous pamphlet when a new visitor walks through the chapel entrance. He notices us to his left and balks for an instant with his mouth opening and closing. He chews on words at the brink of departure and backs away slowly.

My subconscious interest is piqued. It was too familiar of a look to dismiss. I scan the room to see if Roy had witnessed that little scene, too. He lowers his eyes and continues pulling the long white candles out of his pocket to replace the guttered stubs.

I know I've seen that guy hanging around the Sink before. The ragged, unshaven, desperate look is part of unofficial uniform of the Sink's patrons, but this middle-aged, flaxen-haired man is memorable for some reason. His name is Todd? Troy? Thad? Something like that.

Simon sighs heavily. "I'll see you at home."

"Where are you going?"

"Does it matter?"

I look up at him, stunned. "Yeah. Of course, it matters. It's not like you can really go anywhere, but I've been waking up and you're gone. The room has been empty, and I'm barren, and Dean is being reassigned, and I don't know how to feel about it, and when I look for my dad, he's not there." The words tumble out and fester in front of us.

Simon throws his limp body over mine—embracing me with crushing sympathy. I'm warm, and I'm sick. I'm so finally overjoyed that the little needles behind my eyes tap again. He doesn't smell like grease or meat, but sweat, metal, and something sour. Under it all, he pulls me to him and clicks into that perfect father shape.

He accosts me with his warmth for nearly a full minute before retreating. When he gets up, he kisses the top of my head before disappearing through the chapel doors.

I stare at the empty space and hope it was all a joke—he'll return.

"I'm so sorry, Janika," Roy's voice whispers out from behind the icon. When his face appears from the marble, the light tear stains reflect off the flickering flames. "That's really terrible news."

"You heard that?"

"There are no barriers between sufferers and those who bear the Hand willing to help." He saunters down the aisle and plops down in Simon's vacant seat. "And, well, this place echoes."

A genuine, single laugh bubbles out.

"Your dad is a really great man." Roy lays his hand gently over mine. "I'm sure Our Lady's plan will reveal itself in time."

"So you think She knows what's coming next?" I nod to the Lady sitting on her throne of rocks.

"Of course. She knows all."

My eyes lower into my lap again. If only she could tell me how this whole thing plays out—the mission, Dean, Simon, Kai, humanity, Earth . . . all of it. What's going to become of all of us?

REMINDER: CR4 at 2300

"I have to go." I look at Roy as I pull myself up to leave. "Thanks for all of . . ." I gesture to the entirety of the chapel ". . . this. I think I may finally be glad I stopped in here."

"We'll always be here for you, Janika. The Lady will never abandon her Heap."