As Marianne stepped through the heavy wooden doors, she was greeted by the scent of polished wood and incense, a mixture that always seemed to ground her. A few worshippers were already scattered among the pews, heads bowed in silent contemplation. She nodded to Brother Paul, who was lighting candles near the altar, his face serene and focused.
Taking her usual seat near the middle of the chapel, Marianne closed her eyes and let out a long breath. The weight of the day seemed to lift slightly as she settled into the calm atmosphere.