“How does the sanctuary look?” I asked.

“The pews are already half full,” Helen said, tapping her pen on her clipboard.

“Arthur’s in the vestry clipping on a wireless lapel mic.”

“Did the neutral elders come?” Wade asked, stepping out of the alcove.

“Elders Miller, Vance, and Thomas are sitting in the second row by the pulpit,” Helen whispered, leaning in close.

“Arthur tried to call a closed executive session, but Miller reminded him the charter requires open doors for property matters.”

She unzipped her poncho and took out a stapled packet of chart entries signed by the chief attending physician.