Jocelynn didn't know how long she sat behind the altar with her back pressed against the cool stone. It was long enough for the light filtering through the great eastern window to shift from the pale grey of early dawn to something warmer, though the overcast sky still refused to let the sun break through in earnest.
She sat there long enough for her tears to slow and then stop, leaving her cheeks tight and stiff with dried salt. Just long enough for the bread and cheese in the basket to disappear, piece by piece, eaten without thought or taste while she stared up at the golden sun in the stained glass and pretended that the colored light was real.
