The priest looked in her eyes.
They were kind eyes above a nose that looked like it had smelled a few corks in its day, but the eyes also betrayed some nervousness, even fright.
The room wasn’t spinning as much as it was going in and out of focus.
Her left hand was near her lips, her right gripping a table she was backed up against.
She couldn’t yell.
She couldn’t scream, though she wanted desperately to do so.
But she couldn’t even breathe.
The priest walked past her line of vision.
Was he simply leaving?
She couldn’t imagine it.
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