The little sleeves lay perfectly flat on the glass.

The bright white satin caught the yellow glow of the chandelier overhead.

The delicate lace at the collar was flawless.

The fabric was completely clean, untouched by rain, untouched by eighty pounds of heavy Texas dirt.

Pastor Higgins stopped breathing.

He took two stumbling, unsteady steps back toward the fireplace.

He lifted a shaking hand and straightened his glasses by the corners, staring down at the table.

His knees gave out under his dark suit.