6Amelia.The church is different at midnight.It’s not just the emptiness, or the way the shadows grow longer and softer, spilling over marble floors and stained glass. It’s the silence—thicker, deeper, like it’s waiting for something to happen. I moved through the dark sanctuary, barefoot, my heart fluttering in my chest, each step a prayer and a dare. Candles flickered along the aisles, dozens of them, gold and trembling, painting the pews in shifting light.He was here. I could feel it in the air, the tension.I found him at the organ, his back to me, fingers drifting over the keys. The sound was quiet and gentle, like a melody I didn’t recognize, something ancient and haunting that made my skin prickle. Nathan Carter belonged to this church even more than my father did. He filled the space with his presence, with his will, bending it all around him like smoke.He didn’t look up as I drew closer, he only spoke, voice soft but certain, vibrating through the empty sanctuary. “Couldn’
آخر تحديث : 2026-03-07 اقرأ المزيد