CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Uncle Jake’s question—spoken in a soft, but hoarse, voice—knocked me off-guard just as easily as if he had sucker-punched me in the face. I struggled to find the words to respond until I sputtered, “Wha-What?”
Uncle Jake gestured at the altar behind him. “I said, did you come here to ask for forgiveness, too? That’s what church is for, isn’t it? A place where we can meet God and ask Him to forgive us for our sins.”
I eyed Uncle Jake carefully. He seemed perfectly sane, but I found his comments odd nonetheless. “I guess that’s one reason people go to church, though most don’t go to abandoned churches like this to pray.”
Uncle Jake averted his gaze, looking down at his feet. “I don’t like being around other people. I barely feel like a person myself. I’m not even sure
