It was much warmer inside the church than outside.
The damp, chilly air carried the smell of lime into Mia's nostrils.
She walked barefoot over the cold stone tiles, the dirt on her soles leaving a trail of little footprints.
An elderly cleric tossed a wooden bucket and a piece of coarse linen in front of her.
"Lina, was it?"
Mia nodded vigorously.
"Scrub this corridor clean. Start beneath the Holy Emblem statue and work all the way to the prayer room door. Not a single stain."
The cleric left as soon as he finished speaking, leaving Mia with the bucket.
She struggled to drag it to the well, filled it with water, then dragged it back.
Freezing water sloshed over the rim, soaking her already ragged robe.
At the end of the corridor, a life-sized statue of the Sun Cross Holy Emblem stood in an alcove.
A man in a gray deacon's robe was holding a soft piece of chamois leather, wiping the Holy Emblem's base over and over.
Mia recognized him: Deacon Philip.
There was something strange about the way he wiped it.
Left to right, three strokes.
Then right to left, three strokes.
Then he switched to a clean cloth and repeated the process.
His lips moved soundlessly, as though he were counting.
Mia began scrubbing the floor.
She knelt on the ground, dipped the coarse linen in cold water, and scrubbed hard at the mud spots on the stone tiles.
A gust blew in from outside, stirring up a few specks of dust that settled gently on the Holy Emblem's base.
Philip stopped.
He stared at those grains of dust, his entire body going rigid.
Then he took out a fresh cloth, dipped it in fragrant oil, and scrubbed that spot frantically, pressing even harder.
Mia