I walked up the stone steps and through the ornate doors into the narthex attached to the sanctuary. One wall held a bulletin board with notices of events, times for mass, and charitable drives.

I opened the door to the sanctuary and walked in. The noonday sun cast flickers of color through the stained glass windows. A lone woman knelt at the altar holding a candle.

I walked slowly toward the altar, mesmerized by the beauty of the golden crucifix standing there.

I gasped when someone touched my arm.

“May I help you with something?”

A young priest stood next to me, clad in black with his white collar. “Are you…” My nerves fluttered and my stomach churned. “Father Jim?” I knew well he wasn’t, but my mouth ran off on its own.

“No, I’m Father Amos Baca. I’m interning here.”

Father Amos dark skinned and handsome, and he had a very kind face. He seemed a little old to be an intern, though. He had laugh wrinkles around his brown eyes.

“What’s that woman doing?” I asked.

“She’s lighting a candle for a loved one.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“Parishioners come in and out during the week. To light a candle. To pray. To attend confession.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to church,” I said truthfully.

“Indeed,” he said. “Then may I ask why you’re here?”

Why was I here? I’d been thinking about how I used to talk to a pastor. Thinking I wanted to take my life back. Then here I was. The parish where one of my hunters worked.

“I’m not sure I know,” I replied.

“Do you want to talk about anything?”

I sighed. Such a loaded question. “I don’t have a good past. With priests, I mean.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He smiled. “We’re not all bad.”

His smile was genuine, but still, I panicked.

Cold fear welled up in me, and I turned swiftly.

“Miss?” the priest said.

I didn’t turn around. “I have to go. I’m… I’m sorry.” My steps quickened until I was outside the sanctuary.

Sanctuary. This was supposed to be a place of sanctuary.

I sped through the narthex and out the door until I was completely outside the church.

No longer did I adore its beauty.

Now it was a hostile place. A place that made me feel the way I’d felt all those years ago.

My breathing came rapidly. Too rapidly. My legs turned to jelly, and my vision blurred.

No. No. No. Not now. Not here.

What had I been thinking, coming here? Take back my life? I could do that without facing the priest who tormented me.

“Miss?”

I stumbled, and strong arms caught me.

The intern priest. Father Amos Baca.

“Are you all right? Should I call someone for you?”

I willed my body to work. “No. I’m fine.”