But then, her tone changed. It grew sharp. Calculated.

“These babies were innocent,” Diane said, her voice projecting clearly to the back of the room. “Pure. Untouched by the sin of this world. Sometimes… sometimes God takes the innocent to spare them from what lies ahead. He sees the rot before it sets in. He sees the environment they would be raised in.”

The implication hung in the air like poison gas. The murmuring in the pews stopped.

“He knows what kind of influences might have shaped these boys had they lived,” Diane continued, her eyes boring into mine through the lace of her veil. “God took them because He knew what kind of mother they had. He saw the future, and He showed them mercy.”