Besides—there is Sir John. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. She found a clean sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, glad to trade the wet for the dry. Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. The bridge was open.
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