Grizelle looked on the moments past with silent resignation as she continued to spin her own wheel without pause. Even when she came across the odd tangle in the threads that were the result of an elderly gentleman passing on from the mortal coil in the priest's place she simply snipped the knot away with ancient shears before continuing her work. She understood well how both of her dear sisters felt, but it was not her place to stop either of them. She was a being of the past now and always, and as such she could only offer guidance and wisdom. "Jimena," she spoke in soothing tones to try and calm the storm that raged within the Keeper of the Present, "you have already caused enough snags in the fabric this day. Let the anamoly pass into safety for now and we will speak with Neviah when she returns to us. You know as well as I do that she can not maintain her mortal form forever, and when she does return he will be vulnerable. For now we will simply wait..."<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>She had released his hand before they set off from the scene of the accident, but after a mere minute of walking he took her hand in his once more. The priest's fingers intertwined automatically with Neviah's own slender digits as they walked briskly along the sidewalk towards Our Lady of Hope. Micheal couldn't fathom why he felt the need to hold her in such an intimate manner, especially after their sordid history together. However, he knew that she held the answers he had sought after for so very long and as such he was not letting her get away from him again. He was fairly certain that there was some form of deception the woman had in mind, but he could only hope that God would grant him the wisdom necessary to sort the truth from the falsehoods.<br/><br/>The walk was stressful to say the least because he wanted to believe that nothing more could happen to him on that day, yet he could not help but glance in every conceivable direction. Even though he felt something sinister lurking beyond the veil of his own sight something deep within him told him that so long as Neviah was nearby he had nothing to fear. She had already pulled him from the cold clutches of Death once that day, and he knew that she would do so again and again until he had met with whatever fate truly awaited him. Was this all a part of God's grand design? That question and many others rattled around inside his mind as the church came into view, and soon he would have his answers.<br/><br/>Normally Micheal would have taken the young woman around the back of the building to reach his quarters in the rectory, but something made him choose to walk her directly through the front doors of the church. As the huge wooden doors swung open before them the sound of hymns found their way across the air to envelope them in all the musical glory of the Holy Trinity. Calming as the songs were there was a reason why Micheal had come this way, and it wasn't until they were halfway down the central aisle that he realized what that reason was. There, standing before the pulpit, he released Neviah's hand and fell to his knees. "This," he said as tears began to well up within his eyes, "this is where you killed the only man who didn't question my sanity."<br/><br/>The pews were thankfully empty at this time of day, and many of the altar boys were elsewhere cleaning the floors or polishing the furnishings. At that moment though Micheal could care less who saw or heard him. He was on the verge of breaking and he hadn't even received the slightest of revelations yet. He merely pointed up at the crucifix that hung before the intricately stained glass, making certain that Neviah's gaze followed to the dark stain on the corner by Jesus's left hand. "You told him to push me out of the way that day and he did it because of his unwavering faith in The Lord. You killed him Neviah," his voice cracked with the accusation, "as sure as if you had bashed him over the skull yourself!"<br/><br/>He turned to face her, looking upward into her face as he still knelt upon the ground. The tears had formed sorrowful rivulets across his cheekbones as they ran down his jawline before finally staining the floor from their eventual fall. "You said that I wouldn't like what you have to say. I believe that is the first truthful thing you have said to me. So please, don't lie to me anymore. Tell me why a broken priest lives when a truly devout man has perished..."