The alabaster abbey glowed like a white diamond in the Caribbean skies. Father Thomas welcomed his guest with a glass of wine and freshly baked bread. The man in green shorts and yellow shirt moved uncomfortably in his chair as the bulge of his revolver pressured his bruised hip. He was a man accustomed to deluxe surroundings and hearty five course meals, not this simple fare. However, under these conditions he had little choice at this moment but to accept the monk’s hospitality. As the monk prepared to administer grace, his guest heard a sound that jarred his tattered soul and stirred his mind. “There is a child somewhere who sings with a soprano voice like my sister. She died seven years ago but a voice such as this can bring back memories I thought I buried along with her body.” He bent his head as the “Our Father…” began and wondered if, this time, he could find a way to turn his life around—again.