She glanced towards the grand doors, her curiosity piqued. Brother Paul noticed her distraction and followed her gaze. “Probably the wind,” he whispered reassuringly, though a faint crease of concern lined his brow.
Marianne nodded, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling creeping into her chest. She returned her attention to the hymnal, but the sense of calm was fleeting. The sound grew louder, now accompanied by the distinct crunch of gravel underfoot.