The last time Damien walked down the aisle of this cathedral had been on his confirmation day. He had been a child. He had worn white like every other kid that day and his mother had wound a rosary through his fingers, binding his hands in prayer.
He hadn't prayed though. Instead, he cast furtive glances around him as he sat in the midst of children his own age, wondering if they all felt the crushing weight resting on their chest like he had begun to, if the high ceilings and ornate statues made them feel small and insignificant.
