Page 64 of Unholy Fate

She rose to her feet, somehow towering over us despite her smaller stature. “If you want me, you’ll have to earn it. No more games. No more tricks. And definitely no more taking without asking.”

Levi, Aziz, and I exchanged looks, caught between amusement and disbelief. Was she serious? After everything we’d put her through, she thought she could call the shots?

I leaned back in my chair, a smirk playing on my lips. “We’ll see how long you hold out, sweetheart.”

But Evelyn’s expression didn’t waver. She met my gaze head-on, her eyes burning with a fierce determination that sent a thrill down my spine. “Try me.”

With that, she turned and walked out, her head held high. The door slammed behind her, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.

For a long moment, none of us moved. Levi and Aziz looked as stunned as I was, their usual bravado replaced by a wary uncertainty.

Finally, Aziz let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t see that coming.”

Levi shook his head, a grudging respect in his eyes. “Girl’s got balls, I’ll give her that.”

But I barely heard them. My mind was still reeling, replaying the fierce determination in Evelyn’s eyes, the way she’d stood up to us without a hint of fear.

It was hot as hell.

I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the sudden hard on. What the fuck was wrong with me? But even as I tried to deny it, I knew the truth. Somewhere along the way, between the games and the manipulation, I’d started to care about Evelyn. I wanted to protect her, to keep her safe from the fucked-up world we lived in.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I was falling for her, and I had no idea what to do about it.

Fuck.

CHAPTER THIRTY

EVELYN

Staring at my belongings,each one a silent witness to the conflict raging inside me. If I went through with this and left the convent, I’d be letting go of everything I’d devoted my adult life to. A strange sense of relief tickled the edges of my thoughts at the idea of leaving, escaping the rigidity, the guilt, and the constant self-sacrifice. But the thought also filled me with grief, as if I was abandoning my family, everything I’d ever really known.

Taking hold of the worn wood of the crucifix, still hanging around my neck, the familiar gesture brought a pang of nostalgia, quickly followed by a hollow emptiness. Was this really what I wanted? To turn my back on my life as Sister Evelyn, break the vows I’d taken before God?

With a need to move, to do something, I stood abruptly and from the back of the closet, retrieved a small duffel bag. After setting it next to my belongings, I began to pack. My bible went in first, followed by the toiletries from the bathroom and the few modest skirts and blouses I owned, carefully folded and packed.

I picked up the last item, my notebook, its pages filled with years of handwritten prayers and reflections. Thumbing through it, my resolve hardened. I was relinquishing the identity of Sister Evelyn, shedding it like an ill-fitting cloak, allowing myself to discover who I truly am and what it was I wanted from life.

Taking one last look around my private quarters, the bare white walls, the single bed, the plain wooden cross above the door, and the finality of leaving settled on me, the realization that this small room would no longer be my home. With more force than necessary, I zipped the bag shut, the sound jarring in the silence.

I walked slowly through the quiet corridors of the convent, until I reached Father Hudson’s office, my knuckles white as I waited to knock. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Setting aside the recent difficulties, Father Hudson’s consistent kindness and gentle guidance had always been a source of support. He was a mentor in the truest sense. Saying goodbye to him made this all so much more real and final.

I gave the open door a light knock before pushing it inward. Father Hudson was seated behind his desk but stiffened when he saw me, the muscles in his back and neck instantly rigid. “Father Hudson? Do you have a moment? I just wanted to say goodbye”

He recoiled at my entrance, the chair legs screeching against the hardwood floor, as he scrambled back, using the desk as if to shield himself.

“Goodbye?” he stammered, nervously licking his lips.

I frowned. “Yes, I’m leaving the convent. I thought you’d want to know.” The words felt strange in my mouth, surreal. I reached out to hug him goodbye, but he jerked away, as if my touch would burn.

The sting of his rejection left me reeling in confusion. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”

When he replied, his words were clipped. “I wish you well, Evelyn, truly.” His anxious eyes flicked to the door in silent dismissal.

The dismissal stung. I blinked back tears, but unwilling to push further, I nodded stiffly. “Thank you, Father. Goodbye.”

Wandering in a daze, I found myself in the chapel, the soft light of the votive candles illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Their gentle glow and the scent of beeswax created a peaceful atmosphere. I hadn’t even realized I was looking for Serena until I saw her kneeling in a pew, head bowed.

“Serena,” I whispered, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the stillness, causing her to jerk her head up with a guarded expression.

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