Rosario frowned down at the arrow still clutched in her hand. Yellow fingers of afternoon sunlight broke through the branches above them, dappling the grass and picking up the pearlescent sheen of the arrow's fletching. Mini-miracles sounded... not so terrifying as prophetic dreams or hypnotic singing, she'd admit. A miracle was another word for a lucky coincidence, and those happened all the time, even to people without saint's blood.
(A thought trickled down the back of her mind like a shudder: coincidences, like a meteor shooting through Orion's Bow like an arrow?)
She chewed on her lip and fiddled with the arrow.
On the other hand... a lot of the time, lucky coincidence was just confirmation bias. But then, how could you even tell one from the other?
She didn't know the answer, or even how to process the thought when she was already wrestling with so much new, impossible information. She let it fall.
"It's not sacrilegious," she said slowly. "It's... scientific. If saints exist, they gotta work some kinda way, it can't be random." It couldn't be, right? There had to be some sorta rules to the whole thing, even if they weren't exactly the laws of physics and biology as she knew it. Just because Elaine and Johnny weren't totally clear on 'em, didn't mean the universe was making it up as it went along. "So... are you gonna email him?"