Ora’s POV
As I walked inside the unfamiliar church, I got a whiff of the familiar incense. I guess it’s a universal scent. I tell myself as I dip my finger into the holy water font and make the sign of the cross.
I looked over and saw the votive candle stand. I have never done this before, but I watched it done many times over the years.
I pick up a match and strike it. The tip bursts into flames. As I go to light the candle. Tears ran down my cheeks. “For Aunt Jayne,” I said as the tears flowed freely. A lump formed in my throat. I want to curl up in a corner and cry my heart out, thinking of her. But I can’t.
I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I have to do this; I say, to encourage myself. Opening my eyes, I saw that the match was still burning, which is when I lit a second
