In the house of the enemy

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     Erha clutched the spray can of insecticide, the mere force of her small hands compressing the metal can. Her feet left no imprint on the ground as she threaded her way to the church's doors for her sister's sake.

     The first part was always the easy part, this was where it always gets challenging.

    Here she was on enemy territory, a Deville in the house of angels. Although she knew no harm would come to her from stepping on the church's grounds alone, she still hated the way it made her feel.

     The cursed eyes of the golden Mary's statue that all branches of Saint Jude kept seemed to follow her every move and so when she finally opened the giant brass doors, she wasn't feeling the spiritual comfort churches claimed to give, she felt like a rat under the scrutiny of cats.

    She was about to break the one simple rule that governed her and those like her.
     

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