Mara averted her face when Father Garrison turned to welcome her, not daring to look at him directly. She nodded a shy greeting and set a canvas sack at his feet. He didn’t bother opening it—he didn’t even look at it. He turned and walked to the altar. “If you would bring that here, Sister Mara.” She picked it up immediately, approaching the altar with an air of reverence. When she first hesitated to set the parcel down, he put a hand on it and pressed it to the tabletop. She pulled back her hands like they were burned.