“If she’d spun on her heel and left the room, Jack would have laughed at her retreat. And if she’d stayed, staring him down and trying to shame him into leaving, they’d probably still be standing there.”

“But in the moonlight they werelittle more than silhouettes. A reflection of her life. Amere shadow of what she’d expected it to be.”

“He heard a soft voice calling him and turned towards it, trying to focus the vision before him. It wasn't his mother. If he weren't so tired, he would have smiled. He hadn't expected to find an angel in Hell. The angel, her image blurred, a whiteness surrounding her, would understand. The angel would know. "Why couldn't she love me?" he asked. The angel's answer was garbled. He strained to understand the words, not all his senses failed him as he slipped back into the abyss on the edge of Hell. And the angel knelt down beside the bed and wept.”

“Jake was hurting, emotionally and physically, and he was exhausted. He stared at her in wonder. "You're going to name him after me?" "I don't see any other father in this house." Ignoring the pain throbbing in his hands, he drew her close, holding onto her tightly. It was the most precious gift she could have given him.”

“...at the end she’d be nothing more than a memory, if that.”

“Have you ever loved anyone?""You mean besides my mum?"Luke was dumbfounded as he stared at Jack. He knew his friend's story. "She sold you when you were five."Jack shrugged. "Doesn't mean I didn't love her. Just means she didn't love me.”

“I’ll make some inquiries, but I won’t do it for you. I’ll do it because Frannie would want me to.”“You love her, don’t you?”“Go to hell.”Jack laughed. “You’re too late with that command, mate. I’ve been there since I was born.”