“I wore a blue and white striped dress with ballet flats. My hair fell over my shoulder in a thick side braid, and my eyes sported no make-up except for a bit of mascara. I was going for an innocent look. I tried not to sweat on the programs, but my palms were clammy. This was the ultimate form of punishment—saying “hello” to every church member as they passed by me with suspicious or pitying looks. Now I understood why Dad gave me this job. He wanted to remind me that I was being judged, that o...ur church had not forgiven me for my transgressions, and that I had a lot of work to do to reclaim that “good girl” status. “Good morning, Ms. Warren,” I said sweetly, extending a program. “Cadence,” she said, and snatched the paper from my hand. “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Sunder.” “Nice to see you, Cadence,” Mrs. Sunder replied. It was kind but reserved. “Good morning, Mr. Connelly.” What? “Hi, Cadence,” Mr. Connelly replied. “You go to church?” I asked. I’d never seen him before.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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