Walter: I don’t know my way around here. Other people, I suppose, find comfort being in chapels, speaking to you. I have no other place to turn. I asked you for a sign, and you sent it to me. A white tulip. And I was so grateful. Since then, in moments of deep despair, I have found solace in believing that you had forgiven me. I was willing to let him go. I was willing to let Peter die. I’ve changed. That should matter. God, I know my crimes are unforgiveable. So punish me. Do what you want to me. But I beg you, spare our world.