They sat in pews. Her mother, her older sister, and her. They faced the priest at the front.

A private funeral. They wished for nobody else to join them. Gilbert faced her mother, sighing and holding her shoulder, "Your husband is with the Lord, having died for the greatest of causes. Do not ever forget that."

She nodded, though it wasn't clear she believed it. "He was a great soldier," he continued, "Having the boldness to face the might of many empires, and not lay his arms down. Austrians and Germans alike will shiver when they meet him in heaven."

Her older sister couldn't help but snort, disguising it as a series of coughs. She apologized right after, murmuring, "His death was an accident. He didn't die in any sort of battle."

"Perhaps. A force of evil that is, death to an accidental spray of fire," Gilbert said, his voice tender as he tried to comfort the women. He was starting to realize though that his service was unneeded. "Do you girls need support at home?"

Adeline almost shook her head before her sister said, "If anyone could offer their generosity."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. They didn't need the money. Her sister and mother wanted to stay home and grieve for God knows how long, but she wanted to work. Adeline didn't want to think.

"Remember," Father Gilbert said, opening his Bible to a bookmarked verse, "'They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.'"

The family nodded respectfully. Adeline was starting to grow antsy, but the look on Gilbert's face was clear. "Would your family perhaps want to do penance in respect to Vincent Monette?"

"Absolutely not," Adeline wanted to stay, but kept her mouth shut as she and her remaining family stood. They made their way to the side of the church, into another room that had two booths.

Her mother went first. Adeline decided to reprise an old church game she did in her childhood. She would take note of how long people were in the confession booth. Of course, she never judged anyone. Wasn't her job.

Plus, she had quite the list of sins.

Next, Adeline stood and went inside the booth. It was dark besides the flickers of light that came in through the tinted window. She put her hands in her lap and looked at the wall in front of her, reciting, "Bless me Father, for I have sinned."

"How long has it been since you've attended a confession?" Gilbert asked, even though they both knew.

"Four years ago," Adeline said, "When the war began."

Gilbert nodded, sighing and looking like he was reminiscing, "Is there anything you would like to confess in the privacy of this room?" He was careful, as he knew Adeline was more closed off than your average woman.

"Not much," Adeline said, "I accidentally shoved someone in the market yesterday... And I haven't been praying like I should."

"We'd be happy to see you at church tomorrow," Gilbert murmured with a little smile, "There'll be supper after."

Adeline nodded. "I think that's all," she said, waiting for him to tell her to stand and take her leave.

"How has your sleep been?" Gilbert said.

Adeline furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion, answering honestly, "Troubled. I can barely catch a wink most nights." She wasn't sure why the man hadn't dismissed her already.

"What have you been dreaming about?" Gilbert asked.

The woman had to think on that. She sighed, "I've had this recurring dream."

"I'm lying in bed, drifting in and out of sleep," Adeline said, "When the window opens and moonlight spills in. I'm blinded and I feel... arms around me. I look behind me and there's an angel, holding me. Sh... It's a strange dream."

"Sometimes God tells us things that we don't understand."

More advice came to her from Father Gilbert, but it was useless. He gestured towards the holy book, murmuring, "I find solace in these pages. When I have troubling thoughts, I think on these words. But some fresh air wouldn't hurt you." He smiled genuinely at the stone cold woman.

"Would you like to join me in prayer?" Gilbert asked.

Adeline hesitated before nodding, bowing her head and clasping her hands together. She heard the priest murmur his own prayer, while her mind blanked. One of her eyes opened during his speech. It quickly closed again.

"Amen," they said together.

"You're dismissed," Gilbert said, putting his slender hand on her shoulder, "Have a good night, Adeline. Do know you can come to me at any hour."

"I know, Father," Adeline said, a stinging feeling in her throat as she addressed him. She left the booth in haste.

Her family had already taken their leave.

That was fine by her.