The sunlight filtered through the tall stained-glass windows of the Manhattan chapel, scattering red, blue, and gold shards across the polished wooden pews. The air smelled faintly of incense, mingled with the warmth of sun-soaked stone. I walked slowly, deliberately, letting the quiet of the morning envelope me. Today was Sunday, but for me it was more than that—it was strategic. I needed all the prayers and all the quiet clarity I could muster for the week ahead.

Reverend Callum’s voice, ...