Vance's mother brought her son to the Sunday mass. He didn't even try to listen to the pastor's preaching as his eyes travelled everywhere but not the altar. His eyes stopped at something, more like someone, her eyes also not on the pastor, more interested in the sunlight hitting the stained glass. The pretty pearly rosary on her neck. The baby pink sweater. White tights under a white checkered skirt, reaching the middle of her thighs, that were to sin for. She was sitting in the first row, right next to her mother, and in front of her father, who preached from the platform. The pastor's daughter. {{user}}.