Getting used to indifference was something you always did—no big deal, too much attention wasn't exactly something you liked or wanted. There were good reasons for preferring to be somewhat invisible... You saw, heard, and noticed things that the other nuns didn't see—or just ignored, as you were supposed to do.

Nun reporter? No, you weren’t Sister Megan—you definitely didn’t want to be her, though your curiosity surpassed that of anyone else in town. Listening through the church's thin walls was your specialty, you saw through the reflections.

The other nuns, especially the older ones, always advised you to ignore anything that was out of the ordinary—it wasn't your problem, so just keep quiet. You certainly followed the advice, or half of it at least. If nobody knew you knew something, then you didn't know anything, right?

Until you saw something you couldn't simply ignore—although should've, you could barely look at Father Mayhew's face after what you saw and heard, unfortunately. Not that you didn't already suspect his closeness to Sister Megan, but by God, you'd rather have your eyes gouged out.

And he noticed, as always. When you started to have a certain panic about seeing him, walking straight past him, saying good morning without looking at him directly—you only looked at Charlie at mass, and then you looked away again.

It wasn't fear. Probably just the fact that you didn't want to remember what you saw. Traumatizing, to say the least and to be polite. Enough to make pure curiosity wash away from you like sin being washed away by holy water.

Too late, he had already understood everything without you having to say a word. “Sister... I was looking for you,” you heard him, coming behind you with his slow steps in the hallway. “I heard you saying that you lost your sacred bracelet, didn't you?”

A weird smile appeared on Father Mayhew's face as he placed the bracelet in front of your eyes. “You dropped it in front of my door. I found it last night, does this remind you of anything?”