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over. And that brings us to the reason for today’s meetings—the student vandalism at that site.”
    Father Thomas held up a blue file. “We have collected statements from all of the pertinent parties.” He looked at Pinak, Manetti, and me. “As I did with the previous group of boys, I’d like you three to step outside now and take a seat by the Rembrandts. I’ll go over the facts with your parents and render my final decision. Then I’ll call you back in.”
    Dr. Chander pointed Pinak toward the door. Pinak walked out quickly. Manetti’s father nodded at him, and he exited, too. I got up on my own and followed them both out the door, around the corner, and down to the plastic chairs.
    Pinak sat on the right, facing a ghostly painting of a dead man climbing out of his coffin: Rembrandt’s
Raising of Lazarus.
    I sat facing
Abraham and Isaac,
the painting of the boy about to be stabbed to death by the crazy old man. The old man looked all too familiar.
    Manetti remained standing.
    Pinak soon spoke to me. “I don’t feel like one of the pertinent parties. How about you?”
    I didn’t answer, so Manetti did. “I don’t even know what ‘pertinent’ means.”
    “No. But miraculously, you know what ‘undulate’ means?”
    “Hell yeah. That’s a very studly word. I’m surprised you know it.”
    “I am surprised you could spell it. Amazed, really. You must have had a dictionary on your lap.”
    “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna have on my lap, Pinak. Tomorrow, at the mall. Two of ’em.”
    “Please don’t. Please stop.”
    Manetti laughed and looked around. His attention turned to the painting over Pinak’s head. “Look at that knife, man! What’s that crazy old dude doing?”
    Pinak answered, “He is sacrificing his son to God.”
    “Yow. That is cold.”
    “But see how the angel has stopped him, at the last minute. It turned out it was just a test.”
    Manetti touched the paint on the canvas. “Are these things real? I mean, are they by Rembrandt?”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” Pinak scoffed. “All Souls Prep can barely pay its bills. They could never afford to own real Rembrandts. They are cheap copies, in cheap frames.”
    Manetti turned and pointed at the huge historical paintings in the entranceway. “So what about them?”
    “Those are two paintings by Emmanuel Leutze:
Washington Crossing the Delaware
and
Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way.
No, they are not the originals. Now, please do not embarrass yourself by asking me about the van Goghs.”
    “Hey. I know
they’re
not real.”
    “Right. You do now.”
    Manetti looked at the array of art pieces and laughed. “It’s like Father Thomas and Father Leonard went out one day to some art flea market and said, ‘Okay. Give us two of everything.’ ”
    Pinak actually agreed with him. “Their obsession with symmetry does seem odd. Perhaps it is because they are twins.”
    We stayed quiet for a minute after that. I listened to the sound of low, indistinguishable voices on the other side of the wall. Manetti, ever brazen, decided to creep to the door and press his ear to it. As he did, Pinak leaned forward and whispered to me, “I think it is pertinent that Father Thomas said all new construction is over. Don’t you?” When I didn’t reply, he drew the conclusion for me. “I think that means they don’t need Manetti Construction around here anymore.” After a long pause he added, “Martin, are you all right? You look very pale.”
    I was not all right. As he was speaking, I had found myself staring at
Abraham and Isaac.
I had become absolutely transfixed by the boy in the painting. His father had brought him there to
kill
him. And then the angel had intervened to stop it. Still . . . how could he ever forgive his father for that?
    Suddenly we heard a loud, sharp “What?” through the wall. It was spoken by Manetti’s father. Manetti hurried back to join us.
    A few seconds later, Manetti’s father threw open the door