She didn't expect to see anybody here, much less be waylaid on the steps outside the church. She turns immediately at the sound of her name. It's a voice she recognizes. No amounts of years can erase the familiar gentleness in his voice.

Father Rodriguez is looking a little gray around temples. Otherwise, he looks just the way she remembers him.

"Father." None of the turmoil she feels inside is imparted in the greeting.