It’s… nice. Different.
Clean.
I clearly do not belong here.
The last time I stepped foot inside a church was… God… back when I was a kid, and the nuns from school would drag us in for weekly chapel on Wednesdays. The boys would always snap my
bra straps when the nuns weren’t looking. But when I punched them for it? I was the one who got in trouble. Sister Agatha would just sigh, shake her head, and mutter under her breath about me turning out just like my mother.