Chapter 1- Contemplation
Father Samuel jerked upright in his narrow bed, the chill of dawn clinging to his skin as if the nightmare had followed him into the waking world. His breath came in ragged gasps, and the echo of screeching tires and shattering glass still rang in his ears. In the dream—so vivid it felt like memory—he had seen his wife’s face twisted in fear, her hand protectively cradling the curve of her belly just before the impact. The silence that followed had been the most harrowing part. He pressed trembling hands to his face, trying to will away the images of a broken bloody body but they lingered like smoke in a chapel. He had taken his vows several years after the accident, long after grief had left him empty and broken in heart and the mind. The haunting dream, which plagued him almost every night unless he took more of the Lord’s communal wine to ease his bitter thoughts and memories, reminded him that some wounds would never fully heal—only recede into the silence of prayer. The morning li...