The Forgotten Angel ✔️

Chapter 19: A Date to Decide

"Read this." Luke said thrusting the letter into Father Matthew's hands.

After Father Matthew perused the letter, he tossed the letter on his desk and sat back on his chair. "And I'm guessing you just received this in the mail?"

Luke nodded. "Have you ever heard of this place?"

Father Matthew sifted his brain again for any recollection that could be of help. "I've never heard of this school, but I've heard faint gossip from one of my seminarian classes as an undergraduate, of a school established to train special humans in order to take the battle to Satan when the final days emerge. Although, very few believed such a school existed..."

Father Matthew picked up the letter and looked for a return address and saw none. He handed the letter back to Luke. "Until now that is."

"Rocky Mountains—you'd think such a school would be easily found so close to Denver."

"It may be more complicated than that. Sometimes doors lay hidden in plain sight," Father Matthew said.

"How can I even trust this school exists?"

"I recall you feeling the same a week ago about demons," Father Matthew pointed out.

"Yeah, but that was different. At least demons appear in the Bible, but a school training people to fight Satan?"

"I'll admit it has no precedence in any of the books of the Bible, but that doesn't mean it can't be true. The Church teaches the Immaculate Conception of Mary, a doctrine not found in the Bible. Some answers must be sought outside the bounds of a book, even if that book is the story of our faith. The truth is, miracles happen every day, and if we keep our noses down in books, we'll miss the myriad number of signs that God provides."

"I guess—but who's this ambassador I'm supposed to meet?"

"That would be me," Luke heard from behind him. He turned around and dropped the letter to the ground. The guy's hair looked disheveled as usual. His bags were held by thick glasses, and his ice green eyes looked like frozen algae. He still wore his gray hoodie that he would always wear sitting by his desk, cluttered with books back at Opus.

"You're the ambassador?" Luke said.

"Yes Luke, I am. Now I assume you've read the letter from Dean Ammon?"

"How did you?" Luke stuttered.

Father Matthew chimed in, "Pardon the interruption, but Luke, who is this young fellow?"

"This is..." Luke tried to speak.

"If you must know Father then go directly to the primary source himself," Luke was interrupted. The guy continued. "My name is Kevin Hernández, ambassador and alum of SGA here to escort you to, blah, blah, blah. Come now Luke, we should be off. It's a long journey to the Rockies, and I prefer to catch an evening flight to sleep on the way to Denver before the morning hike up the mountains."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down. I have so many questions, and what makes you think I'm willing to go?"

"Because, you have so many questions, and no sane person would leave such important questions about one's life unanswered. That's not including the fact that my brother risked his life to deliver you from the gaze."

"Your brother? The gaze?"

"You can't sit here and tell me you haven't had any recollection of that moment in the Garden. I've heard enough muttering in your sleep to know you had some impression of the event."