When I Was Four, My Mother Left Me Alone in a Church—Twenty Years Later She Returned Crying, “We Need You”

Dust.

A hymn.

People turning pages.

Slowly, the building stopped belonging exclusively to the worst afternoon of my childhood.

That mattered.

PART 8 — FLORENCE’S RULE

When I was ten, I asked:

“What if Mom comes back?”

Florence answered:

“Then you get information.”