Forty Four

Will and Diana walked toward the house. When they came near the garden, Diana stopped. "Do you mind if. . .?"

“Of course not.”

The grave lay under the branches of a sapling, ringed by a neat border of stones. Diana had been coming here each day, but hadn’t shared what was on her mind. Today she leaned into Will, as much for shelter from the wind as for the comfort of his body. “I did wrong, didn’t I?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. I didn’t take care of myself. I didn’t tell anyone in time that maybe they could’ve saved her.” She frowned. “I had been so sure it would be a boy, and that made it easy to be hateful, but. . . I don’t know. It’s hard to be a girl. I feel sorry for her, like I betrayed her.”

“No point worrying about it now. It would’ve probably turned out the same, anyway. Mother seems to think so.”

Diana considered. “She went straight to Heaven, right?”

“She didn’t do anything wrong, so I don’t see why not. I wouldn’t trust a God who would punish a little kid. Maybe she was kind of lucky, in a way. She never had a chance to screw things up and go to Hell."

“Yeah. Like me. I suppose that’s where I’ll end up."

“I hope so.” When Diana gave him a quizzical look, he added, “I know that’s where I’m going, and it won’t be any good without you there.”

Diana smiled. "It’s not supposed to be good. That’s the whole point."

"Then I guess you’ll go to Heaven and I’ll go to Hell and spend eternity missing you."

She turned back to the grave, serious again. “No. I’m definitely going to Hell.”