[Mental: Lyssa/Claire]
[Claire was helping to set up the chairs for Sunday School when she felt the squeeze around her brain. A dusty scratch that she knew was not her own. She was used to certain people poking around in her mind, and while she did not exactly appreciate it on a privacy level, Claire had grown familiar with certain mental signatures and how they felt inside her body.
This was not familiar.
And it would become painfully aware that the person Alyssa was dealing with held no psychic abilities. No, this was woman that was overflowing with Faith. Touched by the Holy, yet far from the taste of angelic. There was a knock, a yank, and all Claire could do was wait impatiently for the conversation to be initiated. The metaphorical locks were not yet being undone on the mental door, instead peering through the peephole to discover the identity of the visitor. But Claire knew who it was. She would have been a fool to think it would be anyone else.]