Inside, the air was still and warm, scented faintly of old wood, beeswax, and incense. Light streamed through the high stained-glass windows, painting the pews in fractured blues and reds.

The congregation murmured softly, a sea of familiar, well-dressed families settling in for the 10 a.m. service. In the front, near the pulpit, a single pew sat conspicuously empty.

Until it wasn't.

A young woman slipped into the very front row, alone. She didn't look around, didn't greet anyone. She simply sat, back straight, hands folded in her lap, staring ahead at the empty altar.