2:43 p.m. Passion Ministry

“You’re telling me that Jimmy isn’t the clone of Jesus Christ but...”

“See for yourself,” Sheila pointed to the photo. “It says on the back: Andy, age 9, Pincher Creek—that’s in Canada—1952. What do we tell John and Maggie?”

Phil gulped. “Andy, you old devil! No wonder you wanted it secret.” He tapped the photo. “Couldn’t clone Jesus Christ, but you knew John had to be satisfied, so you did the next best thing. Cloned yourself. Brilliant. He must’ve figured he’d be dead before anyone realized.”

“What do we do now?”

“Do now?” Phil rolled his eyes. “The place’s falling ‘round our ears, people dying left and right and we’re supposed to keep it together? We’re a joke, Sheila.”

“So we burn the photos?”

“What? Burn...”

“No one’ll ever know,” Sheila said.

“Who else knows now?”

“Rachel, but she swore to keep it quiet, let us decide.”

“You believe her?”

“Uh-huh. Something’s happened to her...it’s like she owes John.”

“So...let everyone keep on believing?”

They mulled it over.

A couple of minutes later, Phil exclaimed, “Wait a minute, Sheil. Wait a blessed minute! We can use this.”

The phone rang.

“Yeah?” Sheila answered quickly. “No, Brendan. Rachel’ll be back in a moment. Why?”

“Just tell her Oscar wants to see her,” Brendan said. “He’s with me in the studio.”

“Right.” Sheila hung up. Turned back to Phil. “Okay, what can we use?”