At the consecration, when he raised the host, Lorenzo felt a breath on his neck — warm, human, and impossibly old.
He blew out the candle.
As he climbed the stairs back into the church, Marta was waiting. She searched his face. messa volto santo
The ritual was kept in a leather-bound missal so old its pages felt like dried leaves. It was reserved for one purpose: to calm a saint who had grown angry. At the consecration, when he raised the host,
Marta said nothing. She only crossed herself and began locking the church doors, one by one. At the consecration