And may God be merciful, because these twisted men will not.

If you don't learn to laugh at life it'll surely kill you, that I know.

The boy planted his hands on his hips and a broad smile lit his face. "My name's Peter. Can I play too?

But he was sick of this charade. Sick of watching people lose a little more of their humanity each day, and sick to death of seeing people tortured in the name of God. What had happened to these people?

Peter," she whispered and reached out, touching his cheek. "My little Peterbird? You flew back to me.

Had not enough gone wrong?

Did he dare trust this insane boy?