I raised the heavy leather cover of my Bible and slid the thin page in among the leaves of the Gospel of John.

The spine eased softly back into place, the gilded page edges shining in the dim desk light.

I didn’t open the metal filing cabinet, and I didn’t reach for the desk phone to call the county prosecutor about Arthur’s old transactions.

I laid my right hand flat on the dark leather cover, my palm resting on the worn spot where my brass wedding band shone under the bulb.

Outside the rectory window, the tall oaks stood still and steady against the night sky.

Her love had watched over my path through every silent year.