"Hello, Father?" Elijah's voice was low, barely audible over the phone.
However, Father John, despite his age, had excellent hearing—perhaps even better than that of ordinary humans.
[How are you, my child?]
The softened voice immediately relaxed Elijah's tense shoulders. Like a child getting a call from his parents, he felt both excited and uneasy.
"Good. And you?"
A hearty laugh came from the other side, revealing the priest's lifted mood.
[As long as you are good, of course, I am too. And about your coma... I think you must have guessed it by now.]
Elijah's eyes were downcast, his lips pursed in a tight line.
When he had woken up, he had forgotten most of his long dream. As time passed, the details grew blurrier.
Yet the other name on the seat that had vanished before Elijah's name appeared became clear to him.
John Evengeline.
It was his godfather's name.
"Do you know what I saw, father?" he cautiously asked.
