“Following directions, she walked to the backside of the building and pulled down on the ancient metal fire escape. The rusted joints creaked and, at first, resisted, but eventually Mary could pull the ladder down low enough to climb up on it. She bypassed the second floor and carefully climbed up the slippery rungs to the steepled third floor. As promised, the window was intact, but swung open on well-oiled hinges. She pushed the window open and slid inside. Shining her flashlight around sl...owly, she realized she was standing in the humble residential quarters for many of the priests who had served the parish. Walking down the narrow hall, she passed by tiny rooms that only held a cot-like bed, a built in desk and a narrow dresser. Some of the rooms still held personal mementos of their former residents like a plastic crucifix hung on a wall, a strand of rosary beads and a picture frame of a family member. The floors were covered remnants of shag carpeting, molding and damp. Mary moved past the cubicles to the large oak door at the end of the hall. This door was more ornate than any of the plain wooden doors she had just passed.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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