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Chapter Text

Past: Sunday, October 3rd

It was a clear autumn day, the sun shining bright and the breeze cool. The trees surrounding the church were already changing color, the landscape a captivating wave of deep reds, yellows, and oranges. It was one of the advantages of living in Upstate New York; you could appreciate the “true beauty of God in nature without the distraction and sin of city living” . Or so Ma had preached to them over and over again. Though, it did very little to stomp Credence’s curiosity about the big city, with its sky-high buildings and bright lights.

He was out cleaning the front of the church, sweeping away fallen leaves from the steps and raking the rest into neat piles. His hands ached with some pain, the week old welts on his palms still tender. He did his best to ignore it, knowing full well that another (possibly worse) punishment would follow if he didn’t finish his chores on time.

He felt the familiar prickle of inhuman anger underneath his skin and stopped for a moment to close his eyes.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He opened them again and looked up, watching fluffy, white clouds drift across the sky for a minute before returning to work.

Thankfully, he was almost done; he had swept the inside of the church after this morning’s service and had cleared the wooden pews of any stray pamphlets left behind by churchgoers.

As he raked his final pile of leaves into a clear garbage bag, he heard a door slam shut in the distance behind him. He froze, his body tensing as he braced himself for her presence.

“Credence!” a sweet voice rang out.

The tension melted away from his shoulders as he turned around. Modesty was running towards him, her pigtails swinging to and fro.

She collided into him, her small arms wrapping around his slender waist. She looked up at him,  a toothy grin on her face. Credence couldn’t help but smile back at his little sister; he let the rake fall gently to the ground and easily returned her embrace.

“Hiya, Credence.”

“Hi, Modesty.” He pressed a small kiss to the top of her head, the younger Barebone giggling under the attention.

“Guess what, Credence?” She bounced on the balls of her feet, looking at him with expectant eyes. He frowned slightly, head tilting to the side. He wracked his brain for an answer, but could not for the life of him think of anything that could make Modesty this excited.

“I don’t know, what?”

Her face became mockingly serious and she gestured for him to lean down.

“Ma and Cassie are going to town,” she whispered into his ear. Oh . “Do you wanna hang out in my room and tell stories?”

He pulled back and nodded, a full-fledged grin on his face this time. Modesty squealed in delight and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’ll come back outside to get you!”

“Mmhmm.”

With that she ran back to the house, the soft cotton of her pale pink dress billowing behind her. His heart felt infinitely lighter than it had this morning and he worked fast with renewed vigor to finish up outside. It had been months since he and Modesty had spent time together like this. Despite living in the same home, they rarely had a moment to themselves, what with all the Bible readings, home-schooling, and other “worthwhile” activities Mary Lou kept them occupied with on a daily basis.

He carefully tied the last garbage bag and heard someone approach from in front of him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Barebone,” a deep voice greeted. Credence looked up and was met with a familiar pair of light brown eyes. Farmer Judd (as he liked to introduce himself) was one of their regular churchgoers; he was an older man, with copper brown hair, sunkissed skin, and smile lines around his eyes and mouth. He was wearing the same blue jean overalls he had worn to the service this morning, but Credence knew he had gone to work right after, the front of them now covered in dirt and grass stains.

Credence let go of the garbage bag and stood up a little straighter. “Good afternoon, sir.”

Judd guffawed, eyes crinkling at the sides. “Now Credence, I think I’ve told you plenty of times before, but you can call me Judd. I’m not that old yet!”

Credence felt heat rise to his cheeks and nodded, dropping his gaze to the ground.

“Sorry, si- Judd. Can I help you with anything?”

“Actually, I was just driving by when I saw you cleaning. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to take some of these bags off of your hands.”

Credence looked up again briefly and saw that Judd had parked his faded blue pickup truck near the curb a few feet away.

“What do you want the leaves for?” Credence asked. Mortification rose in his chest and he was about to stutter out an apology for speaking out of turn when the man laughed again.

“For some mulch,” Judd replied, an amicable grin on his kind face. “I usually drive about an hour to buy some from the nearest Home Depot. A right pain in my ass, if I’m telling the truth. I was actually on my way there now. But I figured since God was giving these leaves away so freely, I might as well take advantage.”

At this he winked. Credence smiled a little (he had always liked the farmer) and nodded again.

“Okay.”

Judd’s grin widened which Credence didn’t think was possible, given how large it was in the first place. He suppressed a wince when Judd told ahold of his right hand to give it a firm shake.

“Great! How many bags can I take off of ya?”

Credence turned around, counting the bags that rested against the church steps. There were three there… and then the one he had in front of him.

“Would four bags be enough?”

“That’s more than enough, thank you!”

Credence pointed to where the others were and helped Judd carry them to his truck. He had climbed into the back, positioning the bags carefully in the trunk so they didn’t come into contact with any of the man’s tools.

Judd had left him to his own devices, clearly looking for something in his front seat. When Credence was satisfied that the bags wouldn’t tear on Judd’s way back to the farm, he carefully climbed out of the trunk. He found Judd standing in front of him, a small smile on his face.

He held something in his left hand and Credence felt his mouth go dry.

“Si- Judd, I can’t possibly-”

Judd held his other hand up and Credence stopped talking, his heart beating a mile a minute.

“Now I know how hard you work, son. Lord knows you’ve probably been at it since this morning.”

Credence couldn’t respond, eyes darting between Judd’s hand and the house.

Judd walked forward slowly, stopping a few inches in front of him, and held out the hand holding the money.

“I’d appreciate it if you accepted this, Mr. Barebone. It’s not much, but you helped me a great deal today.”

Credence shook his head. “I-I can’t take that from you-”

Judd chuckled (a pleasant sound) and gently grasped Credence’s right hand again. Credence nearly flinched away, not wanting the older man to see the scars that permanently marked his skin. But if Judd did notice them, he made no mention of it as he placed the bills into Credence’s palm.

“ The Lord bless you and keep you ,” Judd spoke softly, strong hands holding Credence’s own. “ The Lord make His Face shine upon you, and be gracious to you. The Lord lift up His Countenance upon you, and give you peace .”

Credence felt his heart clench in his chest as Judd recited the words, eyes burning with unshed tears. He blinked rapidly, willing the feeling to go away. He shakingly lifted his left hand and rested it atop Judd’s own.

“Thank you,” he said, voice quivering. He forced himself to look into Judd’s eyes, hoping the man could see just how grateful he was for this gesture of kindness.

Judd squeezed his hand gently in return. “You’re welcome, son.”

The farmer left not too long after that, waving goodbye with a promise to bring fresh apples and vegetables for Credence and his sisters later on in the week. Credence waited until the blue pickup faded away in the distance before walking back. He slid the money into his pants pocket as he walked, patting the area absentmindedly. He picked up the rake and broom from where they lay on the grass and walked into the church. He put everything away in the supply closet and closed the door. He was about to leave but paused, allowing himself a moment in the familiar space.

It was quiet, unnaturally so. But Credence preferred it this way, the atmosphere enveloping him in a peaceful embrace. His eyes wandered across the space, from the stained glass, to the desolate wooden pews, and finally to the large crucifix that hung on the far right wall.

Inhale.

Exhale .

He locked up for the day, personal Bible in hand. He sat on the lowest step and placed the book on his lap. The brown leather cover was worn around the edges and multiple white tabs stuck out from the book, marking his favorite passages and verses. With practiced ease, he counted to the seventh tab and opened the book, the midday sunshine illuminating the pages. He traced the printed words reverently with his right index finger and read the well-loved passage silently.

“Many are saying of me, ‘God will not deliver him.’

But you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high.

I call out to the Lord, and he answers me from his holy mountain.

I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.

I will not fear though tens of thousands assail me on every side.”

He sat there with his eyes closed, basking in the sunlight as he repeated the words to himself over and over again quietly. Of all the verses he had read and memorized, this one gave him solace on his darkest days; no matter how much he had suffered (and continued to suffer), there was always a light that led him out of the darkness. Whether in the form of Modesty, or the sunshine on this blessed day, or the gesture of a kind neighbor…

He let his thoughts drift, thinking of everything and nothing in particular all at once.

Again, he heard a door slam shut in the distance and immediately opened his eyes. He snuck a glance up, and saw Ma and Chastity walking to the car (their old, white Jetta); they were wearing their wool sweaters, Ma carrying re-usable shopping bags while Chastity held a handful of pamphlets against her chest. He quickly turned to another page in his Bible, pretending to read the words on the page.

He didn’t feel her gaze on him and thanked God under his breath when he heard the car start. The exhaust roared to life as the car slowly backed out of the driveway. He kept his gaze glued to his Bible until he could no longer hear the noisy exhaust.

He waited a beat, maybe two, when he heard Modesty call his name. He closed the book, got up, and walked as fast as his legs could carry him to the house.

*

Credence ran the comb through another section of Modesty’s long, blonde hair, pulling it gently to loosen any knots. He was seated on the edge of Modesty’s twin-sized bed (currently covered in her favorite floral duvet), while the younger Barebone sat on a stool in front of him. Soft rays of sunlight filtered through her window, casting a soft glow everywhere the light touched.

He carded his fingers through her soft locks, untangling any of the larger knots he wasn’t able to catch with the comb. Satisfied that all of the knots were gone, he started French-braiding her hair, the familiar motion therapeutic.

Modesty sat there patiently, swinging her legs back and forth as she told Credence about the various nonsensical creatures that apparently lived in the trees surrounding the house.

“There’s even a unicorn!”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yep. He has long white hair, a lot longer than mine. His horn is sparkly. And he eats sunshine!”

Credence chuckled at the description and knew without looking that there was an absolutely adorable pout on her face.

“I’m being serious, Credence!”

“Yes, I know.”

She fell silent as Credence continued the plait; he paused every now and then to tuck a loose strand back into place. Modesty started humming a random tune, swinging her feet in time to the melody.

When he was finished, he tapped her lightly on the shoulder and she reached back to give him a stretchy, black hair tie. He secured the end of the plait and admired his work, proud that it had come out so nicely.

“All done,” he murmured, letting the plait fall softly against Modesty’s back.

She turned around in her seat to face him, positively beaming at him. She gently grabbed his hands and held them securely in her own.

“Thank you, Credence!”

“Mmhmm.”

Modesty continued with her story, Credence interjecting with questions every few minutes or so (“And why exactly would an invisible monkey want to live in the woods?”), before the two fell into a companionable silence. Modesty stroked Credence’s knuckles with her thumbs, and Credence marveled at just how much he loved his little sister as he stared at their intertwined hands.

“Hey, Credence?”

“Mmm?”

He looked back up and saw Modesty biting her lower lip, obviously trying to organize her thoughts.

“Do you… do you know what a soul mate is?” She looked serious when she asked the question, her voice devoid of the playfulness that was there in their earlier conversations.

Credence frowned and shook his head.

“No, I don’t. What is it?”

She sighed.

“Well… I was talking to Sarah this morning after the service, you remember Sarah, right?”

“Mmhmm.” She was a sweet girl around Modesty’s age; they had become friends a few weeks ago after Sarah and her parents attended one of their Sunday services.

“Okay. So I was talking to her about the animals in the woods and I noticed something on her wrist. I thought maybe she drew something there and I asked her about it. She got really happy for some reason and when she pulled her sleeve up, I saw a name there!”

“A name?” he asked, more than a bit confused.

She nodded, squeezing his hands in excitement.

“It said ‘Joanna’. I asked her ‘why would you write someone else’s name on your wrist?’ And ‘wouldn’t your Ma and Pa get mad that you’re writing on yourself?’ And then she looked at me a bit weird and said ‘don’t you have a soul mate, Moddie?’ And when I told her I didn’t even know what a soul mate was, she dragged me to the pew all the way in the back, ya know the one no one ever sits on, and started telling me the story.”

Credence leaned forward just a bit, curiosity piqued. “What did she say?”

Modesty took a breath before continuing.

“Sarah was telling me how over the summer her Ma took her to a park not too far away from where they live. She was playing on the swings when another girl, I think she was our age, sat down next to her and started swinging too. They were just talking and having fun. When they got off the swing, Sarah’s Ma and the girl’s Ma were waiting for them by a big tree. They decided to have a race to see who’d get there the fastest.”

“So, Sarah was runnin’ and the girl was runnin’, but the girl fell down when they were almost there. Sarah turned around and ran back to help her up. But she said that when she grabbed the girl’s hand, her wrist got all tingly and weird. The girl felt the same way and they sorta just stood there staring at their wrists. Sarah kept staring and staring, until she noticed a bunch of letters come up on her skin. She said it felt like somebody was writing on her, but it didn’t hurt.”

She let go of Credence’s hands and traced her name on his right wrist using her nail. “Kinda like that. She couldn’t really see the letters and when she turned to show her Ma, she looked shocked. When she looked back down, there was ‘Joanna’, right on her wrist, like someone had just wrote on her using a pen or marker.”

“What did her Ma say?”

Modesty’s brows furrowed, wrinkles creasing her forehead. “Well, nothing at first. I think maybe she was too shocked to say anything. But the girl’s Ma looked shocked too. Sarah looked over to them and saw that the girl had a name on her wrist too. The weirdest part was that it was Sarah’s name on her wrist!”

Credence’s eyebrows rose and Modesty nodded emphatically.

“I know! That’s how I reacted too. Sarah said it was really weird, ‘cause her Ma and the girl’s Ma kinda stared at each other for a minute before they started smiling! Their Ma’s took ‘em to an ice-cream shop and they just started talking. Sarah and the girl were sitting there sharing a banana sundae, when Sarah realized she didn’t know the girl’s name.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Guess what it was, Credence?”

“Joanna,” he replied, hardly able to believe that something like this could actually be real.

“Uh-huh. When Sarah and her Ma got home, her Ma started crying. It wasn’t sad crying either, she was really, really happy. And when her Ma told her Pa after he came home from work, he started crying too. After dinner, they sat her down in the living room and just talked to her about it.”

She took ahold of Credence’s hands again, her voice soft.

“Her parents said that when you’re born, God makes a special person just for you. Someone that’s supposed to stay with you forever. That’s why they’re called soul mates. They’re your other half. Though, Sarah’s parents said that sometimes it's really hard to find your soulmate.”

“Why?”

“Because the way you find out they’re yours is by touching them.”

“Touching them?” he repeated, gaze dropping down to their hands again; he stroked the smooth skin of Modesty’s palms with calloused thumbs, but felt nothing strange that could explain what she was telling him.

“They said that if you do find them, their name comes up on your wrist right after you touch them. That’s why Sarah felt like someone was writing on her. It was Joanna!”

She fell silent for a moment, Credence taking some time to truly think about what he was being told.

“Does that mean her parents have their names on each other’s wrists?”

“Yep. Sarah said she was surprised she didn’t notice them earlier. Her parents first got them when they were in high school. They even said that the way their names looked changed if their handwriting changed!”

“And they weren’t…” he hesitated. “They weren’t mad that Sarah’s soul mate was another girl?”

He could imagine their own mother’s anger at the implication, could see the sneer on her face, and the belt in her hand.

“No. They just kept crying and telling her how happy and excited they were for her.”

A beat.

“She sees Joanna every week now. They went apple picking last week at Farmer Judd’s.”

A tense silence fell between them. Modesty’s hands twitched, her fingers tightening their grip on his own.

“Credence?” her voice sounded small. Sad.

“Yeah, Modesty?”

“Do you think we’ll ever find our soul mates?”

He sighed, unsure of how to answer her. He lifted her hands and gently kissed her knuckles. “I don’t know,” he replied truthfully, cradling her smaller hands to his face. “Maybe one day.”

He could only begin to hope that his words would someday become true.

Modesty took a moment to consider his words, fingers grazing his jaw.

“One day,” she repeated, a sad smile on her face as she patted his cheeks playfully. She got up from the stool and sat next to him on the bed; he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she snuggled into his left side, the two of them once again lapsing into silence.

“I saw you talking to Farmer Judd earlier,” she began. “Ma didn’t see,” she added hastily when she felt him grow rigid, “she was busy getting her things.”

“He- he gave me money today,” he muttered, voice low, afraid that the somehow the house would send the information back to Mary Lou. He reached into his right pocket to pull out the bills. “After I gave him some bags of leaves.”

Modesty gingerly took the bills from him and counted them.

“Credence!” she gasped, counting the bills again. “He gave you $65!”

“What?!” That couldn’t possibly be right.

“Here, look!”

He lay out his right hand and watched as Modesty audibly counted the money, placing the bills neatly into the palm of his hand. He stared at it, dumbfounded that anyone could be this unbelievably kind.

“You’re getting so close, Credence,” Modesty whispered, voice cracking, “you’re almost there.”

He put the bills on the stool, a lump in his throat as he gathered his little sister in his arms. She sobbed openly into the front of his shirt, hands gripping the material. Stray tears fell down his face and he held her closer to his chest.

He was almost there.

*

When Ma and Chastity returned from their errands, Modesty and Credence were seated at the dining room table, their Bibles open in front of them. They sat at opposite ends of the table, Modesty focused on the work in her notebook. Credence turned to another page, keenly aware of Ma’s eyes on him.

Inhale.

Exhale .

He prayed quietly to himself, eyes running over the page without really reading the words. The feeling dissipated and he heard her walk into the kitchen, most likely to get started on dinner.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Soon, he’d be free of all this suffering and pain.

Soon, he wouldn’t have to hide away in fear.

Soon.

Chapter Text

 Past: Monday, November 1st

The rest of October passed by in a blur of progressively grayer and colder days. The initially colorful, bright landscape became bleak; the wonderfully green grass was now a burnt yellow and brown, and the trees became increasingly barren as their leaves continued to fall. Admittedly, there were some very good days in October, Credence being hired to work on Judd’s farm by the farmer himself the most memorable one. But there were also some very bad days, the memories of them etched into the skin of his upper back.

The first day of November arrived just as October had, but this time with a bout of snowfall early in the morning.

It was 5:30 and Credence was already up (as was his habit thanks to Mary Lou). He made no move to get out of bed just yet (since the girls didn’t wake up until 8) and simply laid there, content to watch the snowfall from outside the small window of his attic bedroom.

Today was his 17th birthday and (truth be told) he was already dreading the day ahead. Birthdays were never a momentous occasion in the Barebone household and every birthday before was just another day that he’d prefer to forget.

Though he remembered very little of his life before coming under Mary Lou’s care, he knows that, at one point, he was happy… nevermind how short-lived that happiness was. Sometimes, if he concentrated hard enough, he was able to remember what his real mother sounded like, her voice soft and sweet. And birthdays before… the memories of colorfully lit candles and sweet laughter slowly fading away with every passing year.

With a sigh, he threw his duvet off to the side and sat up, bare feet touching the cool, wood floor. He walked over to the window and looked out, his right palm resting flat against its equally cold, glass surface. Snowflakes floated down from the bright gray sky and landed on the ground, covering everything in sight. Even the now barren trees were covered in white, looking very much like a scene in a snow globe Credence had once seen in a thrift store in town.

It showed no signs of letting up anytime soon and Credence sighed again; he would have to go shovel later if it continued like this for the rest of the day.

He watched the snowfall for a few more minutes until the alarm on his bedside clock sounded. He turned it off and went about his daily routine. Once his bed was made (his duvet meticulously folded and placed at the edge of the mattress), he grabbed some clean clothes from his drawer and ventured downstairs to take a shower. He paused mid-step and listened intently; no one was awake yet (thank goodness) and he decided to let himself indulge in a longer shower than normal, just for today.

The warm water felt good on his skin, soothing the sore and aching muscles of his back. His thoughts drifted as he washed himself, and he wondered idly if Judd would need him at the farmer’s market today. Sometimes Judd’s younger sister needed help manning the register, though he suspected Judd was secretly pleased about this, given the recent influx of business (“thanks to Laura’s world famous pies ”, or so Judd had told him).

Credence finished in about seven and a half minutes compared to his usual five. He dried himself quickly and pulled on his clothes (a worn pair of charcoal trousers and a pristine, white, long-sleeved button-up).

He tip-toed back up the stairs softly, toweling his hair dry with one hand, the other gripping the wooden railing.

He entered his bedroom and switched on the lamp that rested on his bedside table. It illuminated the small space in a soft, orange light, casting distorted shadows on the walls. He threw his towel on the portable heater in the corner of his room and carefully sat down on the bed to keep from wrinkling the sheets.

A quick glance at his bedside clock showed that it was 6:23, which gave him plenty of time to pray before he had to go back downstairs to make breakfast.

He grabbed his Bible from atop the bedside table and held it securely in his lap; he took a breath.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He closed his eyes and silently began to pray, the ever-familiar verses running through his head. The world around him slowly disappeared, until the only things he noticed were his heartbeat and the feel of worn leather in his hands.

He prayed.

He prayed for salvation and forgiveness. He prayed that God would continue to protect him for a little while longer until he was ready to leave the place he called “home”. He prayed that God would ensure that when the time came for his journey, it would be a safe one. He prayed that God would continue to give him strength, so that he would be able to overcome any and all hardships that came his way. And finally, he prayed that God would continue to bring good, kind people into his life, as He had done before in the past; many of His Greatest Blessings were disguised as these people, in the forms of radiant, loving siblings and honest, considerate neighbors.

He prayed, and prayed, and prayed… until the world came back into focus. He first noticed his shallow, even breathing… followed by the low hum of the lamp’s light bulb… and finally, the faint pitter-patter of raindrops against the window.

He opened his eyes slowly, letting them re-adjust to the light, and looked back at his clock.

7:17 . Time to make breakfast.

He put his Bible back on the table, staring at the leather cover for just a moment. He smoothed his hair down with his hands and got up from the bed; with one last look around the room, he switched his lamp off and ventured down the stairs once again.

*

Credence absentmindedly stirred the pot of oatmeal heating on the stove. The tea kettle was also heating up, little wisps of steam coming out of its spout. He had cut the apples Judd had given him yesterday (fresh, red Honeycrisps) and divided them into four equal portions. The dining room was set, the bowls of fruit neatly placed near the cutlery. He lifted the wooden spoon and took a small bite of the oatmeal, wrinkling his nose a bit at the taste; it was terribly bland (they never kept any sugar or honey in the house, anything overtly sweet labeled as a “gluttonous food”), but was at the right consistency. He turned the stove off and let the oatmeal set.

His thoughts drifted again as he fiddled with the spoon... but this time to his soulmate. He wondered if his soulmate enjoyed oatmeal or if they strayed away from boring, bland breakfast foods. If they did, he was sure they would like it sweet, maybe with brown sugar and blueberries on top (Credence had never tasted blueberries before).

He heard footsteps from the floor above him and started plating the oatmeal into larger bowls. As he placed the last bowl on the table, the tea kettle began to whistle. He made a cup of coffee for Ma (black, no milk) and three cups of tea (black for him and Chastity, and just a touch of milk added to Modesty’s).

Once everything was set in place, he sat down and waited patiently for his sisters to come downstairs. It was mostly quiet, save for the onslaught of rain outside; he figured that the snow that had managed to stick anywhere had probably washed away by now.

Modesty was the first to come down, dressed in a grey cotton dress (with white embroidery along the very edge), her hair tied up in a ponytail. She bounced over to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, Credence,” she whispered, her blue eyes full of warmth.

His heart clenched in his chest momentarily before he returned the kiss. “Thank you, Modesty.”

She smiled brightly and kissed him again, rubbing her cheek playfully against his own. “Me and Cassie are gonna give you your present later, okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

She sat down in her seat (the one beside his own) and folded her hands in front of her, clearly trying to not take a slice of apple. Credence shook his head and smiled fondly; Honeycrisps were her favorite.

Chastity followed not too long after, dressed in a similarly colored dress, her hair pulled up into a tight bun.

She kissed Credence on the opposite cheek, her hand coming up to squeeze his shoulder; when she pulled back, Credence noticed the same warmth in her brown eyes despite the neutral mask on her face.

“Happy birthday, Credence.”

“Thank you, Cassie,” he replied, his heart feeling impossibly full. He kissed her cheek and she sat down in her own seat (the one opposite Modesty’s).

They sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes (intermittently broken by Modesty’s cute giggle whenever Cassie made a funny face) until Ma finally came down the stairs herself. Credence kept his gaze firmly fixed on his bowl of oatmeal; he didn’t want to sour her mood this early in the morning if he could help it.

She took her seat in front of him; he winced when the legs of the chair scraped against the wood floor.

“Good morning, children,” she greeted, her voice cold and even. Credence saw her fold her hands in front of her, her arms covered by the long sleeves of her black dress.

“Thank you for waiting.”

She lifted her folded hands up to her chin and they all mirrored the gesture. They recited their morning prayers and after a final “ amen ”, began to eat.

Chapter Text

Hello!

I want to thank every single person that has read this story up until now; it is very humbling and sweet that so many people enjoy something that I have written. I have not given up on this piece (despite my last update being in 2017). I am currently in the process of re-writing some material and will hopefully have a majority of this story completed by the end of this summer; that way, I can regularly post chapter updates every week or so. 

Thank you for your patience! I hope to see you all soon.