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sanctuary where I had married Beatatrice, where I had baptized Terrence. The memories felt like they belonged to a stranger. I knocked on the heavy oak door of the pastor’s office.
‘Come in,’ Silas’s booming voice called out. ‘I opened the door. Silas was sitting behind his desk, surrounded by books. He was a handsome man, even at 70, charismatic, smooth.continue reading …
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