Chapter Three

Elara’s POV

The chapel was quiet.

Too quiet.

Only the soft flicker of white candles lit the space, their flames dancing gently as if whispering secrets only the walls could hear. The scent of melted wax filled the air, mixing with the faint smell of incense that never truly left this place.

I sat still on the wooden pew, my fingers gently moving over the beads of my rosary.

In front of me stood the altar—pure white, untouched, sacred. Above it, the statue of Christ hung on the cross, His expression calm yet filled with silent suffering. It always made my chest tighten whenever I looked at it for too long.

Beside me, another sister knelt, her head bowed deeply in prayer.

“Hail Mary, full of grace…” she whispered softly.

“The Lord is with thee…” I continued, my voice calm, steady.

“Blessed art thou among women…”

“And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”

Our voices blended together, low and reverent, filling the empty chapel with a quiet rhythm.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God…”

“Pray for us sinners…”

“Now and at the hour of our death…”

“Amen.”

The words felt familiar. Comforting. Like something I could hold on to.

Just as I was about to continue, soft footsteps echoed through the chapel.

“Sister…” a small voice called.

I lifted my head slightly, my brows drawing together.

An altar server stood a few steps away, her hands clasped neatly in front of her.

“You have visitors.”

Both of us raised our heads at the same time, exchanging a brief glance.

Visitors?

My eyes moved instinctively across the chapel, searching.

And then I saw her.

A woman sat quietly at the last row of the congregational seats. She wore a white puff-sleeve top and a black skirt. Something about her felt… familiar.

But before I could focus on her fully, something else caught my attention.

Movement.

Someone was leaving.

I turned slightly, just in time to catch a glimpse of a figure walking out through the chapel doors.

Gone in seconds.

My brows furrowed faintly.

Strange.

When I looked back, the woman was already smiling at me—warm, almost relieved—and she lifted her hand in a small wave.

I returned the smile politely before turning to the altar server.

“Inform her that I will be with her in an hour,” I said gently.

The girl nodded and walked away.

I exhaled softly, closing my eyes for a moment before finishing my prayer.

With slow reverence, I made the sign of the cross using the golden crucifix around my neck.

Then I lifted it to my lips and kissed it lightly.

Only then did I rise.

---

When I approached her, I greeted her quietly, murmuring a soft prayer under my breath before taking a seat beside her.

“How are you?” I asked gently. “And how is the chairman… and your son?”

Her reaction was immediate.

Too immediate.

“Yes, Sister Elara—that’s why we are here.”

We?

My brows knit together slightly.

My eyes followed the direction she pointed toward.

But there was no one there.

Empty space.

I blinked. Once. Twice.

Even she turned to look, her expression shifting from certainty to confusion.

Then irritation.

“That asshole ran off again,” she muttered under her breath, clearly annoyed.

My mind went back to the figure I had seen earlier leaving the chapel.

So… that was him.

She quickly tried to explain. “He was here. We came together. I don’t know when he—”

Her voice trailed off, frustration clear on her face.

I watched her quietly for a moment before speaking again, my tone softer now.

“Mrs. Rachel… is something wrong?”

She looked tired.

More than usual.

“You seem… troubled.”

That was all it took.

She nodded immediately, her composure breaking as her eyes filled with tears.

“Everything is not fine,” she said, her voice trembling.

I reached into my sleeve and brought out a handkerchief, handing it to her gently.

She took it with a shaky hand, dabbing at her eyes as she tried to calm herself.

I didn’t interrupt.

I simply listened.

And when she finally spoke again, the words came pouring out.

Her son.

His behavior.

His refusal to change.

And then… the incident.

The video.

Her voice lowered as she explained it, but I understood enough.

Enough to know it had shaken her deeply.

I remained still, my expression calm, though my thoughts stirred beneath the surface.

This wasn’t the first time she had spoken to me about him.

But this time…

It was worse.

When she finished, she looked at me with desperation.

“Please,” she said, her voice soft but urgent. “Talk to him. Help him. Maybe he will listen to you.”

I hesitated.

“I think it would be better if I informed the priest,” I replied gently. “He would guide him more appropriately.”

But she shook her head immediately.

“No… I want you to speak to him.”

Her insistence caught me off guard.

I didn’t even know him.

All I knew was that he was her son… the chairman’s grandson… and that he refused to come to church.

I had never seen his face.

Not once.

“This isn’t the first time he has refused to come,” I said carefully.

She sighed.

“I know.”

Then, slowly… she smiled.

But it wasn’t warm.

It was something else.

Something darker.

“Don’t worry,” she said quietly. “He will come.”

I frowned slightly.

“I know he will.”

There was certainty in her voice now.

“He doesn’t have a choice.”

I didn’t fully understand what she meant.

But I nodded anyway.

---

After she left, I made my way down the narrow passage leading to the library.

It was my quiet place.

My escape.

Whenever I needed space… or silence… I came here.

The old books, the dust, the faint smell of paper—it calmed me.

But as I approached the door, I paused.

Voices.

Low at first.

Muffled.

I frowned slightly.

I didn’t like people using the library carelessly. Especially not when I was about to read.

The closer I got, the clearer the sounds became.

Soft. Uneven.

Strange.

My hand moved to the door, pushing it open slowly.

The hinges creaked softly.

I stepped inside.

Empty.

No one.

I blinked, scanning the room.

Nothing.

Just rows of books and silence.

I exhaled quietly and shut the door behind me.

Maybe I imagined it.

I walked further in, reaching for a book before settling down to read.

But then—

"Mmm, no... yes" I paused.

"Ahh, yes.. Greg, please...mmm"

The sound came again.

Clearer this time.

"Fuck...Anne... you are so good" Good? I tried processing those rough words over.

"You want me don't you? huh?"

"Yes, no it's wrong...fuck, yes please"

"Beg me bitch... now"

"Please fuck me Greggg... just fucking fuck my wetty pussy...ahh"

"Good girl, you ask for this huh"

"Yes, fuck me hard...mmm"

My body stiffened.

I stood up slowly, my heart beating just a little faster now.

The sound was coming from deeper inside.

Between the shelves.

I moved carefully, following it.

And then—

A book fell.

Startled, I bent down quickly to pick it up.

But as I lifted my head—

I froze.

Two figures.Close, too close.

Locked together in a way that made my breath catch. Their body halfway exposed revealing ponds of sweats.

Their bodies pressed together, their movements hurried, desperate… unaware.

Until they saw me.

Their eyes widened instantly.

"Christ! Sister Elara...!" They both screamed in shock.

“I—I can explain…” the girl stammered, her voice breathless, almost teary.

My heart stopped.

She was a nun. And the guy close to her was a faithful church member, who was always ready to give everything he had for God and even winning souls for God.

“Sister Elara, it’s not what you think—” She said sweats dripping from her forehead.

But I couldn’t move. My eyes slightly drift off to her pink lingerie then to the guy standing close to her, half dressed.

Couldn’t speak. I turned my eyes from their halves nakedness. It's too awful to look at. I'm disappointed.

My eyes remained wide, my lips slightly parted as I struggled to find words.

Any words.

But none came.