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Shoving shaky hands into the front pockets of her light-washed jeans, Sloane tilted her head back to look up at the large cross adorning the roof of the building in front of her, casting its judgemental shadow on the self-proclaimed sinner standing in front of it.
The last time Sloane had stepped foot through a pair of wooden church doors of her own free will was back when she was only a child, introduced to religion by her devout parents who brought her to mass every Sunday and prayed with her before falling asleep every night since she had been born.
She was not sure that even the christening they subjected her to as an infant would prevent her from bursting into flames the moment she walked inside, visually similar to the Wicked Witch of the West after being doused with water. The over-dramatic reenactment in her head was only interrupted by a clearing throat close behind her, which caused Sloane to spin around on her heel with a startled gasp emerging from her lips, her hands moving from her pockets to sit protectively in front of her torso.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you." The dark-skinned man behind her had taken a couple of steps back to signify that he meant her no harm when she had turned so suddenly, his hand held up in front of him much like a gesture utilized to calm a spooked horse. Sloane felt her racing heart start to steady under the palm that had now moved to rest on her chest, nodding to indicate she knew his intentions were sound and watched as he dropped his hand back to his side. "Are you here for the meeting this morning?"
"That was the plan, but I'm not sure I can go in," Sloane responded to his inquiry, her eyes scanning the man's face. His expression was understanding, full lips tilted into a heart-warming smile and surrounded by a tamed salt and pepper circle beard. The black hair on his head, untouched by age, was cut short and accentuated his natural curls, yet they remained unmoving as he nodded in acknowledgment of her hesitation. "I'm assuming you're here for the meeting too?"
"I'm running it, actually," the man responded, and Sloane let out a soft breath, her lips in the shape of an 'o'. He only chuckled, not unkindly, as he reached out a hand in her direction. "I'm Wendall."
"Sloane."
"Well, Sloane, you are welcome to come in and join us for today's meeting. Or any of our meetings, whenever you're ready," Wendall offered, placing his free hand on the back of Sloane's hand that was still grasped in his, patting her hand gently before he disconnected them. They parted ways as Wendall walked toward the entrance to the church while Sloane remained standing in place, watching as he had stopped momentarily to straighten out the meeting sign hanging on the wooden door.
Shortly after Wendall had disappeared through the door, Sloane returned her gaze to the cross on the roof, her eyes narrowing as the sun rising behind it shone directly on her face, almost like a halo, beckoning her inside for a chance at salvation.
Wendall's face lit up when he spotted Sloane walking into the room only a few minutes later, having looked up from what he was reading off the podium ahead of him, offering her a small wave. She nodded in acknowledgement as a couple of heads turned in her direction after noticing the group leader's excitement before she rushed to seat herself in the back row of chairs in the church's activity room. She carefully observed the other individuals who had already been present in the room, many of whom returned to interacting with each other and others who had started to arrive before the meeting officially began.
