What if the saints of old walked among us today-would we honor their triumphs, or whisper about their secrets?
Zarinna knows the weight of hidden truths. Once devoted, now marked by choices she cannot undo, she carries shame like a shadow she cannot...
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DAVID GLANCED at his phone again, a tightening knot forming in his chest. No reply from Zarinna. He had been texting her all afternoon, yet not a single response came through.
He lifted his gaze toward the cottage where she lived. The lights were off. If she had returned home, at least some faint glow would have spilled from the windows. Nothing. Silence.
A frown creased his brow, guilt rising unbidden. I shouldn't have agreed to speak with Lauren earlier. Had he known of the unseemly thoughts she harbored, he never would have stepped into that room. He had known Lauren since childhood; he never expected the manipulations she was capable of.
He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. It must have been Zarinna I saw leaving the main building. Oh Lord... what could she have thought?
Summoning a deep breath, he pushed open the wooden fence and made his way toward the house adjacent to Zarinna's cottage. He didn't know whose it was, but a heavy unease had clung to him all afternoon, and instinctively, he hoped he would find answers there.
Composing himself, he knocked. A woman, perhaps in her forties, opened the door and studied him with cautious eyes.
"Yes? Are you looking for Zarinna, Sir? I noticed your uniform."
David cleared his throat. "Uh, yes, Ma'am. Is she... by any chance here? We were supposed to walk home together this afternoon, but—"
A male voice called from inside. "Who's that?"
David turned. "Ah, my name's David Awiyao, Sir," he said, stretching out his hand. "I was just wondering if Zarinna is here."
The man stepped forward, taking his hand firmly. "Dennis Tawwaki. I'm Zarinna's uncle. And why are you looking for her? Did you come to court her?"
David lowered his gaze, unsure how to respond to the bluntness of the remark.
"Well, you can go see her in that cottage over there," Dennis said, stepping aside and pointing toward the wooden house. Then his brow furrowed. "That's strange... she's usually home by now. Doesn't seem like she's arrived yet."
"That's the thing, dear," the woman spoke up. "The young man says they were going to walk home together today."
Dennis knit his brows. "Is that so?"
"Yes, Sir," David confirmed, his voice tight. "But around dismissal time, she wouldn't respond to texts or calls. I was worried. I hoped to see her here, but... she's not." He lowered his head, the unease twisting in his gut.
A sharp vibration pulled him back to the present. He pulled out his phone. The screen flashed: Zarinna. Heart hammering, he swiped to answer.
"Hello, Zarinna?"
"David? No—it's Gina," came the familiar voice, tense and urgent.
"Oh, what's up?" David bowed slightly toward the couple, stepping aside to speak freely.
