Outside, the congregation is dispersing, but a dedicated crowd remains by the steps.

Probably waiting for the undertakers to wheel out Elder Jonathan’s casket so they follow the hearse all the way to the crematorium.

I knock gently on the door of Father Romanus’ office.

The door doesn’t budge, so I knock again.

“Who’s there?” His voice floats through the door.

“It’s the warden,” I holler in response.

“Come in,” he says.

I twist the doorknob and enter the office, then shut the door behind me.

He sits behind his desk, wiping his face with a white handkerchief.

I bow my head. “I’ve come to do the counting and update...