Francesco

I climbed up the familiar stone steps. It was the only place I could go, the only place with doors open for me, the only place that wouldn't wear judgment on their faces when I walked in with my bloodied suit. Everything else was as I remembered it, Nonna's picture was no longer at the entrance. I walked through the large wooden door. Soft music was coming from God knows where, but the church was empty. I walked up to my favorite pew and plopped down on it. A sigh escaped my lips, and I threw my head backward, shutting my eyes.

We barely made it out of the...