Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
When he began his talk with "You got your health, don't you?" it touched those spots inside me. That was when I did it. Why couldn't what he said have been "The best things in life are free, Not if you believe me. The first thing I can remember, the start of all this, was when I was and I was left there in the dark. Being four or five, I didn't know any better, so I thought Dad made it dark to add to my punishment. But I learned he didn't know the light him about the light as soon as I could talk again, but he said I was lying. him. Because they were real, I talked about them as if they were real, and I almost earned a bunk in the home for retarded children until I got others got money from home to buy the things they needed—razor blades, candy, sticks of tea. I got a letter from Mom or Dad every now and then before they were killed, saying they had sent money or that it was It was two or three years later that I skulked into Brother Partridge's Partridge didn't seem to notice me, but I knew that was an act. I knew people were always watching every move I made. He braced his red-furred hands on the sides of his auctioneer's stand and leaned his splotched eagle beak toward us. "Brothers, this being Thanksgiving, I pray the good Lord that we all are truly thankful for all that we have received. Amen." Some skin-and-bones character I didn't know struggled out of his seat, amening. I could see he had a lot to be thankful for—somewhere he had "Brothers," Partridge went on after enjoying the interruption with a beaming smile, "you shall all be entitled to a bowl of turkey soup prepared by Sister Partridge, a generous supply of sweet rolls and The Stars and Stripes Forever send one to the chef that they were going to think I was rich, and some that Frankie the Pig sells three for a quarter. room into the kitchen. Even Partridge made his way down from the auctioneer's stand like a vulture with a busted wing and darted through leave a fifty or even a hundred. A hundred! Yes, it felt new, crisp. It had to be a hundred. A single would be While keeping a lookout for Partridge and somebody stepping out of the time, a Western Union clock high up at the back of the hall. Just as I seen it for the first time, the electricity wound the spring motor inside like a chicken having its neck wrung. The next time I glanced at the clock, it said ten minutes had gone by. My hand still wasn't free and I hadn't budged the box. "This," Brother Partridge said, "is one of the most profound experiences of my life." My head hinged until it lined my eyes up with Brother Partridge. The the preacher explained in wonderment. I nodded. "Swimming right in there with the dead duck." "Cold turkey," he corrected. "Are you scoffing at a miracle?" "People are always watching me, Brother," I said. "So now they do it even when they aren't around. I should have known it would come to that." wasn't dumb enough to murder. Somebody, somewhere, would be a witness "I may be able to help you," Brother Partridge said, "if you have faith Brother Partridge regarded me solemnly. "There must be something special." Partridge prodded me with his bony fingers as if making sure I was As long as it stalled off the cops, I'd talk to Partridge. We took a couple of camp chairs and I told him the story of my life, or of that turkey soup. Then again I was glad I hadn't. Something always happened to me when I thought back over my life. The same thing. After some time Sister Partridge bustled in and snapped on the overhead "Remarkable," Partridge finally said when I got so hoarse I had to take a break. "One is almost— almost —reminded of Job. William, you are being punished for some great sin. Of that, I'm sure." "Punished for a sin? But, Brother, I've always had it like this, as long as I can remember. What kind of a sin could I have committed when I was fresh out of my crib?" "William, all I can tell you is that time means nothing in Heaven. Do you deny the transmigration of souls?" "Well," I said, "I've had no personal experience—" "Of course you have, William! Say you don't remember. Say you don't want to remember. But don't say you have no personal experience!" "And you think I'm being punished for something I did in a previous He looked at me in disbelief. "What else could it be?" this life." "William, if you atone for this sin, perhaps the horde of locusts will lift from you." It wasn't much of a chance, but I was unused to having any at all. I shook off the dizziness of it. "By the Lord Harry, Brother, I'm going to give it a try!" I cried. "I believe you," Partridge said, surprised at himself. "Perhaps this will help in your atonement," he said. Brother Partridge's money, I killed a man. It was all an accident, but killing somebody is reason enough to get "What do you do, Jack?" the fatter one asked. and do something permanent squirmed away across the rubbish like a polite mouse. News brains out. looking at it like that. But there was nothing to be said for telling Brother Partridge about the accident, or murder, or whatever had happened that day. Searching myself after I left Brother Partridge, I finally found a matches dropping down on the floor next to his tennis shoes, and even a from spilling more from the spoon. News of the stacks. The cases of books, row after row, smelled good. Like old leather and good pipe tobacco. I had been here before. In this world, it's the man with education who makes the money. I had been reading the Funk &amp Wagnalls Encyclopedia. So far I knew a lot about Mark Antony, Atomic Energy, Boron, Brussels, Catapults, Demons, and Divans. News and left me alone with double-breasted in Executive Suite while Walter Pidgeon and the rest had sleep on Thanksgiving, bracing up for trying the lift at Brother Partridge's. Let's see, it was daylight outside again, so this was the day after Thanksgiving. But it had only been sixteen or twenty hours think you're yellow." He turned slowly, his jaw moving further away from his brain. I winked. "It was just a bet for me to say that to you. I won two bucks. Half of it is yours." I held out the bill to him. "I still always did. I ran. Harold R. Thompkins, 49, vice-president of Baysinger's, was found dead behind the store last night. His skull had been crushed by a the ad card readers, the girl watchers as the neat little carbon-copy eyebrow. They couldn't do anything worse to the small man than they had done to the young boy. It was sort of nostalgic watching them, but same kill over and over. Like watching the Saturday night string of began to dose. The shrieks woke me up. For the first time, I could hear the shrieks of the monster's victim and listen to their obscene droolings. For the very first time in my life. Always before it had been all pantomime, like Charlie Chaplin. Now I heard the sounds of it all. They say it's a bad sign when you start hearing voices. I nearly panicked, but I held myself in the seat and forced myself to be rational about it. My own voice was always saying things everybody be the only one who could hear other things I never said. I was as sane as I ever was. There was no doubt about that. But a new thought suddenly impressed itself on me. Whatever was punishing me for my sin was determined that I turn back

<question>:
What does Brother Partridge think after William shares his life story?

<options>:
A He believes William is being punished for his former sins
B He believes William is a criminal
C He believes William is going to murder him
D He believes William is the second coming

<answer>:

A