“I’m Reverend McBride.” He smiled, displaying a set of dentures. “Miss Lily was a dear, dear friend of mine from way back. She went to my church before she joined Riverside.”

“Oh? I didn’t know about that.”

“Young lady, the Lord has welcomed a new angel, yes, he has.”

“Thank you, Reverend.”

His bespectacled gaze searched her face. “Are you holding up okay, dear?”

“Lily was all I had.”

He nodded. “I’m praying for you, child. And know this: when the good Lord closes one door, He opens another.”

“I appreciate that, sir.” She smiled tightly.

The old reverend hesitated, his gaze locked on her. Monica had the distinct impression that he wanted to say something else but was unsure how to begin. A heartbeat later, the moment was broken when Troy slipped up to them and gently grasped Monica by the arm.

“Everything okay, baby?” he asked.

“This is Reverend McBride, a friend of Lily’s from back in the day,” Monica said. “She used to go to his church.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Troy shook the reverend’s hand. The reverend muttered a greeting and stepped back, seeming reluctant to turn away from Monica.

Troy steered Monica in the opposite direction. “Ready?”

Monica glanced over her shoulder. The pastor had turned and was shuffling down the hallway.

“I take it the reverend wasn’t the mystery person you wanted me to meet?” she asked.

“Of course not. Come on.”

“All right. Let’s get this over with then.”

Troy guided her down the corridor, through the thinning crowd, and back into the sanctuary.

“Up front there,” Troy said.

Monica looked toward the front of the chamber, where Lily’s gleaming casket still lay, flanked by several large and beautiful flower arrangements; the pallbearers had yet to cart it to the hearse waiting out front. A tall, slender woman dressed in black stood beside the coffin, her back to them, a solitary mourner paying her last respects.

As they approached, Troy cleared his throat. The woman turned.

When she revealed her identity, Monica passed out.

3

Troy caught Monica before she hit the floor. He eased her onto a nearby pew.

Monica’s mouth lolled open, her eyelids fluttering. A low moan slipped out of her.

“Jesus, this really knocked her out,” Troy muttered to himself. He felt a stab of guilt at how he’d handled the situation. Monica had been forced through an emotional wringer that day, and while the reveal of her birth mother could only be a good thing, it was too much for her to take right then. She was in a fragile state, and he needed to protect her, and probably should have done more to prepare her for this revelation.

But it was too late for that now.

Monica’s mother had come to her daughter’s side, too. She dabbed at Monica’s brow with a green silk handkerchief.