She looked to be in her sixties and was thickset with rounded cheeks and a florid complexion. I was about to shake my head but suddenly I was back in the convent on the day of my arrival, changing in front of a novice who looked at my bruises without uttering a word.

“Ah.” She smiled. “You do.”

“Yes,” I replied. “I remember you from the convent. Sister Marguerite, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and you’re Delilah. Come,” she said. “I’ll show you his office and his grave.”

“Whose?”

“Why, Father Daniel’s of course. That’s why you’ve come, isn’t it?”

Without another word, she led me from the church and to a small building that stood to the side of it. “Another priest took over after Father Daniel’s passing, but I assigned him other rooms so I could keep Father Daniel’s intact in case you came. It wasn’t difficult getting Father Michael to agree, considering what happened there.”

I realized that she was referring to Daniel’s attack and wasn’t sure I was ready to see the scene of it. I stopped on the stone path, and as if reading my mind, Sister Marguerite turned and said, “There’s nothing in there now that can hurt you. Come.”

When we reached a room at the end of the hallway, she unhooked a chain of keys from her belt and used one to unlock the door. “This is where he spent most of his time.”

The room was just as I’d imagined it, with its scarred wooden desk taking up most of the space and its walls that were covered in rows and rows of books. A large crucifix hung on the only bare wall, opposite the desk, and a threadbare carpet and couch took up the rest of the space. Dust motes twirled through the air and the scent of pinewood polish clung to everything.

The desk was bare except for a blotter made of paper, a globe, a lamp, and a few framed photographs, which I picked up. One showed Daniel graduating from seminary school as a young man. He stood next to Sister Marguerite, who was beaming, her face half turned toward his. In another he was holding a baby at a christening, while in another, he was shaking a young black man’s hand.

“That’s Shaun’s christening. Daniel was his godfather. And that young man is Vusi. Daniel mentored him in a youth program.”

“Can you tell me what happened? The night he was shot?”