The choir director was sorting sheet music by the tall pipe organ, the pages rustling in the hush.

I walked right down the center aisle.

My low-heeled black shoes tapped softly on the stone tiles.

The tall stained glass windows threw sharp blue and red light across the floor in front of me.

I held my chin up.

The elders watched me go by.

Fifty-five years of being the good daughter, the quiet girl who followed the rules, fell away with every step I took.

Nobody stepped out into the aisle to stop me.