~ Father Romanus ~
The shrill ring of the phone slices through the room like a blade.
Calista grabs it, her face paling. “My dad.”
I flinch.
For a heartbeat, I’m not a man of God. I’m a fifty-five-year-old silver haired coward.
“Answer it,” I hiss, my voice cracking.
I scramble for my trousers.
My fingers, stiff...