He walked up the narrow stairs behind his mother. At the top of the stairs, to the left, was an open door, and through it he could see the feet of people and hear their muffled conversation.
“Come on, Anthony,” his mother said, looking to where he hung back, halfway up the stairs.
The room was half-full of people, mostly adults, some other children like him, gathered round each other in half-circles. At the far end of the room, at the farthest point from the door, where he now stood, were the two Sisters, standing in there in their black nun’s habits, their faces ashen-struck. His mother walked towards them, and Anthony followed her.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” his mother said to them,