Studying the patterns on the cross, Jacen knew that his heart wasn't pure. He knew his shortcomings, was aware of what greed had done to him. This would be no key for him. He looked up at Miri sadly. For she had recoiled from the sight of the object. Finally Jacen knelt, placing it in the Writer's hand. Her fingers closed around it and softly it began to glow for the second time that day.
Miri had backed away until she could go no further. He ignored her movements against the rubble and carefully tried to get the Writer to sit up so that she could press the object against the secret door. "Just open the door," he murmured to her encouragingly. "Just open the door."
"My heart…not pure."
Jacen could hear shouts. They were almost out of time.. "Don't you remember?" he asked intently. "No one's heart is pure. It's made clean through Jesus Christ."
"You-" she tried to give the cross back and he forced her fingers to close around it.
"I'm full of anger, hate. I…I can't. But you can. You confessed everything in the dungeon. Now accept the forgiveness." He wracked his brain for the words that were spoken at every church service. "Jesus is the atoning sacrifice for our sins. We've been forgiven. We both have been." The light from the cross was becoming brighter by the minute. His own hand was on the cross, but he didn't notice. "Our sins are forgiven!"
"Yes," she whispered and relaxed suddenly in his arms, her eyes drifting shut. Her fingers slackened and the cross fell into his hands, yet it continued to glow. He stared at it in wonder. "Open the door," he murmured.
And beneath him the door opened.