Blood stained the sands of Acre and ran down into the Levantine Sea. The single day's casualties numbered dozens if not a hundred in total. Of the over seventy knights of Britain to step off the ship from Genoa, only one remained standing. The damned sand dogs who were so eager to taste the bite of his blade numbered less than a third of his force, nearly all of them laid dead in the dirt. Only one of the worms remained, but he was the one who almost singlehandedly leveled the crusaders. In the setting sun, his opponent's cloak seemed to glow as if made of fire. The lone knight struggled to hold his footing but would never surrender. His opponent raised a scimitar toward him and stared with those pure, white, prophet's eyes that seemed to pierce the soul.
The one dressed opened his mouth. What came out was not English, but somehow the knight understood everything he said anyway. "You will live. Go back to your masters, tell them what you have seen. Tell them to leave my people and our land be, your lives needn't be forfeit."
The knight clutched his chest and squeezed the handful of the cross-marked surcoat over his chainmail. It was difficult for him to speak, but he pressed on. "My master is greater than yours, dog of Termagant! I shall fear no evil, to die to see the Holy Land again purified is to accept sanctification!"
"The prophet, Yeshua, peace be upon him, would never wish your blade raised against mine," the flame-cloaked man said. "Cruel men corrupted his words, as they have corrupted your heart."
"You do not dare speak to me of the works of Christ, you heathen dog!" The crusader pulled a second sword of the hand of a dead comrade and raised the blades toward his opponent. "Make your peace with Mohammed now, I'll send you into the pits to join him! Deus vult!"
With the power that ran through that specter's body, he could have reduced the bullheaded fool to ash in the blink of an eye. The wrath of Allah was with him, if he so chose to use it. But Allah abhorred needless bloodshed, and perhaps if just this one fool could be convinced to tell the European kings what power laid ready to guard Jerusalem, they would end their cursed crusades.
With his scimitar clutched close to his chest, the specter prayed, "Alsalam ealaykum," and ran to meet his foe in battle again.
-000-
Sadie uttered a long, pained groan and rubbed her forehead as she sat up. Her head was the only thing even vaguely cushioned by her balled up sports coat, the rest of her body laid on a hard, stiff church pew. "What the hell?" As she rubbed at her face, she double took at the two lines of green and black that ran over her palm. With a squint, she tried to recall where the cross on her hand came from. And, after another moment of consideration, how she'd ended up in a central row of an enormous church.
"Ah, are you awake over there?"
Sadie turned around. A portly old man, mostly bald on top of his head, and dressed all in black, approached from the end of the row of pews. Her body tensed as he stepped past a pillar and into the row. She didn't know this man or this place, if she needed to run, she didn't even know where an exit might be.
With hands raised, Sadie asked, "Who are you? And where am I? What's going on here?"
The old man halted and raised his hands in a similar, defensive manner. "It's all right, take it easy, Miss Leach."
His motions did little to calm her. "And how do you know my name?"
"Cassandra brought you here." He spoke quick to keep up with her demands. "My name is George Ryan; I am this church's priest."
Sadie searched around the space of faux marble and stained glass. That felt like the only movement readily available to her, neither her fight nor flight instincts seemed to be cooperating. "Why would she do that? What happened?"
The priest frowned. "She called me and pled that I unlock the church. She said she needed to get to holy ground. I still don't really know what's going on here, but when she tells me something is important, I tend to just take her word for it."
A little of the tension slipped from Sadie's body at the phrase, "holy ground." That did sound both familiar and meaningful, and not just because it made her think of guilty pleasure 80's movies. But other parts of that still nagged at her. "You take her word for it? I mean, I guess I've heard you guys were close but it this all…" she paused and cleared her throat. "Appropriate?"
The priest sighed. "She warned me you wouldn't totally know what was going on, so I'm not going to linger on that suspicion. She's in my office with some of her allies. I'll see if I can bring her out for you."
Sadie double took. "Allies?" It seemed a strange word, and who in the world was he talking about anyway?
Without an answer and with a turn, the priest stepped into a door to an adjacent hallway. For a few seconds, Sadie sat alone in the great, empty church; high on her list of unsettling experiences, she determined quickly. Then, from her opposite tide, came the tiny tap tap tap of a small animal's trot. Sadie looked around the pew, and when she saw nothing, lowered her gaze. A tiny, white, puffy-furred poodle crossed the row and paused at her feet.
"Oh, hey, I think I've heard about you." A smile, at least partly genuine, crossed her face. "You're Snowball, right?" Sadie lowered a hand. The tiny dog sniffed it for a second, then fit his head against her palm. With a few open and closing motions, Sadie rubbed his chin and scratched behind his ears. "Well, a priest who's good to his pet can't be all bad, right? You're a cutie, aren't you?"
The door Father Ryan departed through opened with a creak. Sadie swiveled back around, Cassandra peaked her head out, a mix of relief and something else covered her face. Maybe confusion? Concern? Sadie determined years ago that Cassandra was always difficult to read.
"You're up, I'm glad."
Even if she didn't exactly sound glad, Sadie still knew.
"Cassie, what's going on here? Your priest buddy said something about me talking about holy ground and that's why we're here, but what was going on before that? How did we get there and then here? It's still freaking me out."
"How much do you remember earlier tonight?"
"Huh? I mean, I remember…." Sadie paused to consider, and her expression went tight, then loose as recollection returned to her. "We were out at the café. And then there was a fire. You ran into the building like a crazy person. And when you didn't come out, I—I guess… did I run in too?"
Cassandra wore a grave look on her face. "You did. And do you remember after that?"
"Why are you just standing in the doorway like that? It's weird," Sadie said.
Cassandra broke eye contact and looked down as Sadie scooted to the end of the pew. "After that though. Do you remember anything after that?"
"No, I guess I don't," Sadie bit her lip. "But, like, I should, for sure, shouldn't I? So that's going on? And, again, why are you hanging out in the doorway like that?"
With her eyes still down, Cassandra said, "Going to step out, don't think we can avoid this. But need you to be calm. It explains, but it's…." She scratched at the back of her head. "It's a lot to take in."
"Okay?" Sadie stared at her for a few seconds, as if unsure what to say or how to feel. "Well, I'm gonna do my best. Whatever you've gotta tell me, tell me."
Cassandra let out a long breath and clearly, awkwardly stood next to the doorway a few seconds longer than she intended to. Finally, quiet enough to barely be heard, she said, "Sorry I kept this from you," and stepped into the doorway.
Sadie looked on, dumbstruck, as Cassandra approached the pew. The undermost layer of the uniform she wore shone pure black, which contrasted with the white breastplate that covered her chest like a bulletproof vest. Emblazoned across the center of the plate stood the silhouette of a golden bat, formed and colored as if pieced together from stained glass. At the center of the symbol sat a white cross. Cassandra still looked away and held one arm with her opposite hand. Straight as she stood, a few fidgets ran through her body.
"Oh my Go… I mean… holy cra… I mean—" Sadie gawked, and after she swiftly thought better of a few other vulgar reactions, she just said, "You're—you're the Angel of the Bat?"
"I'm sorry." Cassandra squeezed both her hands tight. "Hated lying about it." The more she said, the faster she spoke. "Never had to tell anyone before, never knew when I should. I know this is—"
Cassandra remained so intent on looking away from Sadie she wasn't prepared when the other woman rushed up and threw her arms tight around her.
"Are you kidding? This is amazing! You're amazing!"
For the second time that night, blood rushed to Cassandra' cheeks. "You aren't mad? But—but I had to lie."
Sadie relaxed her grip and pulled back. "I mean, I know, but like you just said, you had to right? Protecting the people closest to you and that stuff, right? And at the same time, my girlfriend was beating up bad guys and running in to burning buildings to rescue people and stuff? You're—you're—" She started to sputter before she finally went with. "You somehow got even cooler."
Cassandra wasn't ready for the embrace, and she really wasn't ready for that follow up. A little part of her knew it was immature and ridiculous, but she couldn't fight the feeling. All of her friends and family loved her, she already knew that. But no one besides Stephanie, years before, had ever called her, 'cool' to her face. And Sadie hadn't just gone with, 'cool,' but, 'even cooler.' For as much dread as she'd already pushed through that night, these two shared revelations made her feel lightheaded and giddy.
After another moment in the revery of the hug, Cassandra stepped back and hardened her expression. "My friends—others like me are in the other room. Don't know everything yet, but you might be part of this now." She looked down again. "Might look familiar. Don't say anything about it right now, please."
Sadie flinched. "No way—you don't mean—"
With her voice deepened for firmness, Cassandra repeated, "Don't say anything right now."
Sadie tightened her lips and nodded. Cassandra squeezed one of her hands with her own and led her out of the nave of the cathedral, into one of its inner hallways. Just across from them stood a door marked, "Martha and Mary Fellowship Hall." On the other side sat a high-ceilinged gathering space, two dozen circular tables with chairs turn upside down on top of them. At one table in the center sat a man and a woman tinkering with a small device.
"We're here." Cassandra released Sadie's hand and stepped up to the two.
The man nodded, set the device in his hands down, and rose. He kept his dark hair in a ponytail and covered his eyes with a domino mask. From the neck down a tight uniform hugged his body; mostly of black, interrupted only by the stretch of red in a V shape down the center of his chest. At the center of the V was crested a black and golden silhouette of a bird.
"Good evening, Miss Leach," he said in his most collected and professional voice.
Unfortunately, this did nothing to stop Sadie from going wide eyed and, without thinking about it, replying, "Hey, Tim." Right after she did so, she clasped a hand over her mouth and looked back and forth between him and the woman.
A smile crept across her face, which was half-covered by a cowl with a head of blonde hair that spilled out underneath. Below she wore a suit of black and purple, and her own golden bat symbol. Before the moment passed, she burst out laughing and leaned into her hand. "I told you this was going to happen," she said. "This is why Batman swears by the cowl."
"You told me the cowl made it look like I stuck a condom on my head." Tim glared at her for a moment, looked back to Sadie, and pointed. "Probably isn't much point in me telling you she's, 'Batgirl,' is there?"
She waved as she set her cowl aside. "Hi, Sadie."
"Hi, Steph." Sadie felt awash with confusion, disbelief, vicarious embarrassment, and fascination. And it felt impossible to focus on any of those feelings at once. After some struggle, she leaned over to Cassandra and said, "No wonder you're all such good friends."
Cassandra chuckled, Stephanie laughed, and even Tim managed a tight-lipped smile. After a few seconds for everyone to regain their bearings, he continued. "Fun and games aside, this could be important later." He pointed at himself. "When I'm in the suit, I'm Robin." He paused and considered for a moment before he continued, "There was a certain little punkass in our group who was using that name for a while, but he's experimenting with another title right now. In case that was a point of confusion."
"Uh, I don't think I knew anything about that," Sadie said.
"Good. When I'm in the suit, I'm Robin, understood?"
Sadie tried to force out the last of her giggles, both humorous and uncomfortable, before she nodded. "Get it, got it. Same with Batgirl. Same with Ca—Angel. Right? Is just Angel okay?"
"That's what we call her when we have to," Stephanie said. "Angel of the Bat is a great title, but it's too wordy for everyday use."
"Okay, so, not that I'm not honored to be let in on all these secrets, but what's really going on here? What happened to me after I rushed into that building and why am I here?" After a moment to remember, she raised and opened her hand. "And what's this thing supposed to be?"
Her three companions went quiet for a moment. As if to reinforce his role as impromptu leader, Tim spoke up. "We still don't know all the details, but it doesn't look like that fire was an accident. We caught sight of a fight on the rooftop. It looked like just two people, but then—" He stopped and shook his head. "Some big, awful monster started roaring, and something else was flying around the perimeter. We never got a good look at any of them, we just saw one of them get the killing blow on the other. The final hit smashed through a huge chunk of the ceiling and…." Tim looked toward Cassandra. "You saw the next part. Maybe you should tell it."
A tiny shudder ran through Cassandra's body when Sadie turned to her. After a moment of hesitation, she said, "It fell on you. Could have killed you. Did kill you, maybe, not sure."
Sadie froze up for a second, then opened her mouth, first from shock, then to object, but no words came out. From the troubled, serious look on Cassandra's face, all she could eventually muster was, "What?"
"Then someone else fell down. He gave me this," Cassandra pointed to the mechanism in Tim's hands. "And that." She motioned toward Sadie's left hand. "Don't know how to explain, felt like it called me. I put it against you and the burns healed. Whatever it is, it saved you."
With new wonder, Sadie raised her hand to eye-level and stared at the intersecting green lines that ran through her palm. "This little thing, whatever it did, saved me?"
"We still don't know for sure, but we think that's what the people on the rooftop were fighting over." Tim raised the mechanism he held, unfurled it into a segmented cylinder, and slipped it onto his arm. "Cassie said he was wearing this thing as a gauntlet. It took some poking around to figure out what was going on, but it looks like some kind of wrist-mounted communicator."
"We have some experience with those," Stephanie said.
With a series of taps, one of the segments on the device slid back to reveal a screen and number pad. Tim continued, "Seems the owner left it unlocked, but we weren't able to glean much. Looks like his name might have been Abraham Arlington, and he was in communication with two people marked Father Zein and Father Day."
Cassandra pulled up one of the chairs across from Tim and Stephanie and motioned, Sadie sat down.
Stephanie stuck out her tongue toward Tim. "You don't ever pull out chairs for me anymore."
"Focus, Steph, please," he said. When he noted the tight, contemplative look on Sadie's face, Tim asked, "Did something about that bother you?"
"You said Father Zein?" Without considering which she used, Sadie brought the scarred hand up to her forehead. "That name sounds, I don't know, familiar somehow. Maybe."
"Wait, really?" Tim said. "If you've got any lead on that, we'd be glad to have it."
Cassandra asked, "He said that name, is that what you're thinking of?"
Sadie shook her head, and Cassandra frowned.
"But why would you know him?" Cassandra said. "You don't know any priests, do you?"
"You could maybe say I know your buddy Father Ryan now, but that's it," Sadie said. "Nevermind, I guess. If I figure out the why, I'll tell you."
"All right, good, thanks," Tim said. "We haven't tried out either of these numbers yet, we thought it would be better to wait for you to wake up. You're a part of this now too, we thought it was fair."
Sadie looked around the table. As much as she'd gone back and forth throughout this conversation both laughing or feeling intimidated, the respect and care on hand felt all too real. So, she nodded and said, "Well, we still have a lot more questions than answers, right? Let's see what we can find out."
"Everybody bear with me then." Tim pressed a last series of buttons on the transmitter. "Interior wise, this thing feels pretty cheap. Quality's probably gonna be crap, and who knows where it's gonna lead." With that, he pressed the red button hidden within the gauntlet's thumb to redial the number labeled, "Father Zein," and set the device in the middle of the table.
Less than a second later, the transmitter emitted a series of words in a language none of the four recognized. And a few seconds after that, in an English-accented, robotic voice, it said, "We're sorry, the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected and is no longer in service."
"One down, try the other one," Stephanie said.
Tim did so. He, Stephanie, Cassandra, and Sadie all waited breaths held as a scratchy, sizzling buzz went off once, twice, three times, four-
"Abraham? Abraham, come in, is that you?" The voice on the other line was distorted by static on top of a thick, Scottish accent.
Tim exhaled with both relief and anticipation. "I'm sorry, sir, your friend is gone."
"What?" the other man said. "Who is this? Who's making this call? What're you doing with Abraham's herald?"
Stephanie frowned. "Harold?"
Tim rubbed his forehead. "You call this thing a herald? Like, a holy messenger herald?"
Sadie sputtered a laugh. "I mean, it's dumb, but it's also kind of clever?"
"For the love of— how many are on this line? And who is this?"
"Four of us," Tim said. "One is just very quiet."
Cassandra felt a need to make herself known, so she just said, "Hello."
"I take it this is Father Day? You can call me Robin." Tim cleared his throat and spoke slow and sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but your friend Abraham was lost in a building fire earlier tonight. One of my partners picked up his… herald. We're trying to understand what happened."
"Hm, fine.. But Robin?" After he tested the name, the man on the other line let out a string of curses too strongly accented to be discernable. "Abraham was in Gotham, and your name is Robin? You're with the Batman then, aren't you? Unless you're making a joke."
"I told you, he was caught up in a fire. My partner was trying to rescue as many as she could. She would have saved your friend too, but I think the fire was set to kill him in the first place." After an honest sigh, he added, "I'm sorry."
"So now Abraham is dead. But we haven't all been reduced to gibbering madness yet." Father Day stopped to consider his words.
Stephanie asked, "Gibbering madness? Wait, why were those guys hunting him for in the first place?"
"That's Vatican business," Day said.
"Vatican? Oh for God's sake?" Sadie rubbed her hand against her temple. "This is going straight to the top, huh? What kind of Da Vincci Code bullcrap am I in right now?"
Whether for comfort or to castigate, Cassandra wasn't sure why she opened her mouth. But it didn't matter, their mysterious contact kept speaking too quickly.
"Who said that? Keep a civil tongue, girl."
"I'd love to keep a civil tongue, but people like you keep voting against it."
Cassandra put a hand on Sadie's knee and looked at her, pleading in her eyes.
For his part, Day just uttered, "What? What was that even supposed to mean?"
"I think I understood, and I don't think you want me to translate right now," Stephanie said. "Miss Leach, let's take it easy if we can, please. Sir, what does the Vatican have to do with any of this?"
The other line went quiet for a while. Eventually, Tim asked, "Sir?"
"Give me a moment." Day spoke with a snarl. "I'm sworn to secrecy on all kinds of things, and all kinds of others are on a need-to-know basis."
When he went quiet again, Sadie reached down and pressed the "microphone mute" button on the phone. "I don't like this guy," Sadie said. "Maybe that's premature, I know we barely know him, but at least Father Ryan and his dog tried to be nice to me."
"I know." Cassandra squeezed Sadie's shoulder. "But we need his help. Or might, at least."
Sadie blew a breath up at her face. "Fine, fine, I know. I'll try to settle down. I'm sorry."
Eventually, their contact came back on the line. "Abraham went out there seeking... something. Do you know what that something is?"
Sadie opened her mouth to reply, but Cassandra squeezed her shoulder again and she waited.
Tim picked up the conversation again. "It was an orb of some kind— A green one. It's in our possession."
"And you're in Gotham," Dominic said. "All right, fine. If you haven't already, you should all seek shelter within holy ground. A Catholic church would offer you the best defense. Stay put and I can arrange for one of my acolytes to come pick it up."
Tim raised an eyebrow. "Is it really that easy?"
"For the love of all things holy, don't tempt fate," Day said. "That icon is unstable. If you can possibly avoid it, don't even touch it with your bare hands."
What felt like a long silence passed between the five. Sadie looked to Cassandra, who shifted her squeeze on the shoulder to a comforting pat on the back. In a hushed voice, Cassandra said, "Tell him."
"What if... one of us already did?"
Day uttered a long, embittered groan. "Which one of you? The one who's talking?"
"Yeah, me," Sadie said. "A hunk of debris apparently crushed my body in that burning building we were all talking about. My— my—" she paused and looked to Cassandra. For the moment, that pleading look had passed, there was only comfort there. Then Sadie remembered how immediately frustrating she found their contact and said, "My girlfriend forced that rock into my hands. I'm alive because she did."
Day again sputtered into a string of Scottish curses. Between the swear words, the four caught him shout, "Idiots! Irresponsible! Damn it all!"
"Hey buddy, calm down," Stephanie said. "There are two Catholics on our side, and they might be impressed with your title and your little tantrum, but I for one am not."
"And you still have the icon then?"
Sadie scowled at the phone. "Is that what this thing is? I thought an icon was, like, a stamp or a logo or something."
"An icon is an object of sacred power and devotion, the opposite of an idol—" Dominic stopped and switched to his lower, faster register again. "Why am I explaining this? Do you have it or not?"
"Yeah," Sadie said. "It's bonded to my skin."
"I feared as much." Day uttered a long, ragged exhalation. "There are men and tools for this task, but the process will require approval from on high. We might be waiting for weeks."
"Wait a minute, what? On high? Like you were saying, the Vatican?" Sadie's jaw went slack for a moment. "And, what, they don't have an emergency helpline for… whatever this is?"
From the little, irritated sounds Father Day made, is sounded like he was about to hit his head against a wall. "Did you ever see The Exorcist?"
"You've gotta be kidding me. Holy hell, I'm not possessed by a demon, am I?"
"No, you're not. Think of that as a baseline for your condition though," Day said. "The church insisted on medical examinations, psychological studies, all that business first, and still needed a letter from the Vatican to approve the ritual. And all that while those monsters will be hunting for you the whole time."
When Day paused to think, Cassandra said, "What if we just took her there?"
The line went silent for a few beats, as if the words were each being carefully considered. "If we brought her to the Vatican?"
"Whatever tests are needed they can do there, they don't have to send someone, we can start as soon as they're ready—"
Sadie gave Cassandra a playful elbow. "And you get an extra trip out of town to a place you probably always wanted to go."
"Huh? Oh, it's not—"
"Plus, the whole place is technically holy ground, right?" Sadie said.
The priest remained quiet a little longer. "It's possible, I suppose. It might even be doable." Then he sighed. "But you'll need a plane, and my funds aren't bottomless."
"Hers are." Sadie elbowed Cassandra again. "I don't know if your dad is just gonna foot the bill on this, but," she paused and thought. "If your dad wouldn't what about, you know, your boss? Is he loaded? Could one of them arrange for some private transportation?"
Cassandra was at a loss. She's anticipated she and Sadie might eventually need to have a conversation like this, but those were not the circumstances she wanted to be addressing them around. After a moment to consider, she said, "Someone will, I'm sure. Need to talk to both of them, probably."
For the first time all night, Day settled a little. "If it can actually be arranged, it's not a bad plan. I'll need to see it actually progress, however."
Tim chimed back in. "I'll make phone calls, see what I can do."
"And we'll keep an eye on things in the meantime," Stephanie said. "You think she'll be okay as long as she's staying here?"
"I don't know," Day said. "I would like to think so, but I don't know if the enemy has my scent."
"My scent?" Sadie said. "Are they going to release the hounds on us or something?"
"Simple to think of it that way, maybe," Day said. "Best you not venture out needlessly."
Tim rubbed at his forehead, exhausted by the exchange. "I don't think anybody there could have known we're tied into all this. And anyway, we're going to have to make some calls."
"Fine. But the girl with the icon especially. Keep her within holy ground. I'll expect an update as soon as you have more you can tell me."
"Fine, thank you." With the flip of a switch, Tim disconnected the call, the exhale that followed sounded like he'd rather spit. "Sorry you're tied to all of this now apparently, Sadie."
"Thanks for sticking up for me. All of you." Sadie turned a slow look at the three around the table. "Even when bullies don't stop, they're easier to handle when you've got other people around."
Cassandra and her friends all nodded. Stephanie was the first to yawn, and that forced one out of Sadie too.
"I guess even after some downtime, I'm still exhausted." Sadie looked to Cassandra. "Anywhere around here I can sleep?"
"Father Ryan made something up. I'll lead you." Cassandra rose and offered Sadie her hand.
"Get some sleep if you can manage it," Stephanie called as they approached the door.
Sadie raised a hand to indicate goodnight. When Cassandra shut the door behind them, Sadie let out a deflating breath. "Holy crap, it was hard to keep it together in there."
Cassandra pulled her into another close hug. "Never wanted you to deal with this part of my life. I'm sorry."
Sadie trembled a little in her arms before she said, "Well, it's kinda what I'm signing up for, right? This is sharing all of our lives, right?"
Without saying anything back, Cassandra ran a hand through Sadie's short hair, the two leaned into one another.
The tiny trot of Snowball stepped up to the two, and Father Ryan followed shortly behind. "Everything go all right in there?"
Sadie broke from the hug and blew a breath up at her face. "It's a mess, padre. But we're working it out."
He nodded. "Do you need any more rest? I keep a cot arranged the basement, you're not the first person running away from something I've had to put up for the night. I was against leaving you in the pew earlier, but Cassandra didn't want to risk waking you."
"That'd be great, thanks." Sadie turned to Cassandra. "Thanks, both of you."
Cassandra crossed her arms and looked away from the priest. "He asked I let you sleep by yourself." The next words came out frustrated. "Said it wouldn't be proper."
Sadie cast a look back and forth between the priest and Cassandra before she leaned in and said, "We can be mad about that together later."
With a nod, Cassandra said, "Sleep well."
"Thanks… Cassie?"
"Yes?"
"We're gonna get through this thing, right?"
Cassandra took one of her hands and gave it a tight squeeze. "Promise."
Sadie managed a smile. "And Cassie?"
"Yes?"
"If you, uh, I don't know." Sadie scratched at the back of her head with her free hand. "If you have some kind of big, weird, tragic backstory you've also been keeping from me or whatever, I wanna know that too." She looked away. "I've heard that's how it is with a lot of you guys. And I wanna share that part of your life too, however it goes."
And, even with the priest standing so close by, Cassandra leaned in and kissed Sadie on the lips. To his credit, even if he'd wanted to, he said nothing. After Cassandra separated, she said, "See you in the morning."
