The girl had risen in the meantime, and Malachi afforded her what he hoped was a friendly enough smile. It had been a while now since Nettie had been that young, and he’d had to maneuver parts of his life around what was best for a growing girl. He still spoke with plenty in his parishes, that was a given, but he was hyperaware, too, of how much scarier he might appear to them when he already scared grown men.

At least children tended to like him in spite of it.

Edmund’s quiet words of gratitude brought his attention back to the older sibling, and Malachi fought the urge to dismiss them. They were unnecessary. Any decent person would have done the same thing, he thought, but then… he supposed decent people didn’t exist in excess.

“It’s not a problem,” he insisted instead. He’d let the boy have his thanks.

“I’m usually at the church – St. Hilda’s. It’s close to here, actually,” and the priest turned, casting his gaze down the street to point in the general direction of it.

“Follow the road we came from, go left before the bridge, uh-... keep walking on that street until you see it. You shouldn't miss it.”

He hoped not anyway. It was nearer to the hotel than he had remembered, but that was good – it meant that he could come back and check in on them once the day was done.

Malachi turned back to them, and said, “you’re more than welcome to visit anytime you wish. And- if it’s alright with you two, I’d like to come back and make sure things are still going alright with the hotel.”

What he meant was I want to make sure you’re both still alright, but the hotel provided him with a better excuse.