5
Michael moved quietly down the hall; he had had lots of practice living on the streets and passing through abandoned buildings where he and his brother found shelter. But his brother wasn't here, and the rectory where he stayed was not abandoned. Far from it. Father Deluca was downstairs at this very moment in the common room, between Michael and the back door.
The wood floors creaked with age as he made his way down the hall. He stepped along the side of the hallway, minimizing the creaking, but old was old and it continued to make the occasional noise. The rectory was old; you could smell it. It was clean, of course, and well taken care of, but there is a certain scent that permeated the whole building. A year ago he might have said the place stunk, that it was for old, borin
