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"Father! Father Mark!!"

She dashed into the church, her swift footfalls muffled by the carpet on the floor. Colored light dappled her from head to foot in a rainbow wash. There were tears in her voice and panic in her eyes.

"Oh God! Father Mark!! He's dead! He's dead!! Some one killed him! No! Oh, no!! Father!!"

A priest appeared from a door behind the alter. His usually kind face was worried, and he did not walk with his usual calm. His black robe swished around his ankles as he came to meet her in the isle. She fell to her knees before him and was seized by racking sobs.

"Calm down. Calm down, my child. Breath and tell me slowly what is the matter."

It took her several minutes to calm herself enough to speak clearly enough to be understood.

"Oh God, Father Mark. It is Joseph!! My love! Joseph, my love! He's dead!! Some one had killed him! Oh God... Oh God. It's horrible. There's blood all over. I can't hardly recognise his face... Oh God... and his heart... Oh! The blood!!"

"Slow down, child. When did you find him?" The priest's eyes were beginning to show fear, anger, betrayal. But he forced himself to stay calm.

"Just now!! Just now, Father!! I came here right away when.... when I found him."

"And where were you, child. Where were you before you found him?"

She looked up at him, puzzled for a second. And then fear came into her eyes. She looked down at her hands. Hands covered in blood, clutching a bloody knife. "No..." she whispered... and ran.