The pain, this feeling of inadequacy, is there with you, and although the seed of it was never recognized as a seed belonging to it, as a seed made of it—pain—they planted it still, in your making, ignorance at the center of their factice bliss, this justification—they didn’t know; did their best.

Mariana Huaman had worked with the Flores family since Rosa was an infant and had been the one to witness the first miracle, the one that occurred on June 17, 1586. Now Mariana is approaching Rosa on her deathbed and remembers that distant day as if it had just happened.

Eleanor Saravak studied the three news story drafts spread across her wooden desktop. Each one of them sported its own headline. Headlines that ought to boast so much bite and venom they may as well leap off the page and send folks six feet under.
Not that Eleanor joined the news biz to do her readers in or feed them dreck made of letters put together.