Chapter 99: The Treasure
Danica walked along the cobblestone paths of the town.
Since Father Anchi had granted her a holiday, she intended to enjoy it to the fullest. For now, she pushed all thoughts of the chapel and the laundry from her mind.
She loved this feeling. The warmth of the sun on her skin. The crisp wind brushing against her cheeks. From the roadside smithy came the rhythmic cling-clang of iron. The baker's wife was outside airing out flour sacks; spotting Danica, she offered a friendly wave.
"Good afternoon, Sister Danica!"
Danica waved back, offering a practiced, gentle smile. "May the Holy Spirit watch over you."
She moved through the marketplace. The cries of the vendors, the squawking of poultry—everything felt so vivid, so pulsing with life. This was what it meant to truly exist.
As she reached the edge of town, the buildings gave way to an open meadow bordered by several ancient, sprawling trees.
"Sister Danica!" a voice called out.
Danica turned. It was Jamie. Behind him trailed four or five other children of similar age. They swarmed her like a flock of chirping sparrows, surrounding her in an instant.
"Sister Danica! Play with us!"
"Let's play hide-and-seek!"
"Yeah! Hide-and-seek!"
Jamie looked up at her, his eyes shining with hope. "Will you play, Sister? Father Anchi said you were off duty today!"
Danica looked at their expectant faces. She knelt down so her eyes were level with theirs, then reached out to ruffle Jamie's messy hair.
"Alright," she whispered.
The children erupted into a cheer. "Yay! Sister Danica is playing with us!"
The game began. A little girl was chosen to be "It." She leaned against a massive oak tree, her high-pitched voice counting upward.
"One... two... three..."
The crowd scattered like leaves in a gale. Danica gathered her skirts and ran, searching for a place to disappear. She spotted a dilapidated cow shed nearby and slipped inside. It was filled with dry hay and smelled of old grain. She tucked herself behind a large mound, leaving only her eyes visible.
Outside, the seeker finished her count. "Ready or not, here I come!"
Footsteps pattered against the grass. Danica heard the girl find a boy hiding behind the well.
"Found you, Tom!"
"No fair! I wasn't ready!"
"Doesn't matter! You're the next seeker!"
The children's voices were thick with vitality. Behind her hay bale, Danica remained silent, simply listening. It was a novel sensation—no need to scheme, no need to seduce or manipulate. She was simply a participant in a game.
Soon, it was Jamie's turn to seek. He leaned against the tree, his voice booming. "One! Two! Three! Four...!"
This time, Danica chose to run toward the treeline at the edge of the woods. The trees were denser there, offering better concealment.
"...Ninety-nine! One hundred! Here I come!" Jamie's voice drifted from behind her.
Danica quickened her pace, entering the forest. The light grew dim beneath the canopy. She found a particularly thick oak tree and pressed herself against the rough bark. She held her breath.
Footsteps approached, crunched over dry leaves, then faded into the distance. She let out a breath of relief. Safe.
The game continued for several rounds until, eventually, it was Danica's turn to be the seeker. She stood before the great oak, her face against the bark, and began to count.
"One, two, three..."
The frantic patter of retreating footsteps echoed behind her. Danica closed her eyes, counting with genuine focus. Those were the rules.
"...Ninety-nine, one hundred. Ready or not!"
She turned and began her hunt. The area was quiet. She scanned the surroundings but saw no one. She headed back toward the town first. Behind a woodpile, a sliver of a red skirt was visible.
"Found you, Lina!"
Lina jumped, letting out a short shriek. "Ah! Sister Danica, you're too fast!"
One by one, she rooted the children out of their spots. Soon, only Jamie remained missing.
"Where did Jamie go?"
"He's the best at hiding!"
"Last time, we looked for him all afternoon and never found him!"
The children chattered amongst themselves. Danica pondered for a moment. Jamie was a clever boy; he wouldn't hide in a predictable spot. Her gaze drifted toward the small forest.
She stepped back into the woods. It was silent, save for the rustle of wind through the leaves. She softened her footfalls, observing every shadow for a clue. A hollow log? No. Behind the brambles? Possibly.
She approached a low thicket and parted the branches. "Are you in here~?"
Empty.
She didn't let the disappointment show, pushing deeper into the forest. As she walked, a low-hanging branch blocked her path. Rather than detouring, she bent low to duck beneath it.
In that instant, she felt a sudden, sharp tug.
Danica felt the weight lift from her head, followed by a sudden chill. The nun's habit had been snagged by a jagged twig. The fabric slid from her hair and hit the forest floor with a soft thud.
For a heartbeat, Danica's blood ran cold. Her skin prickled with a sudden, icy sweat. Her physical instincts overrode her mind. She dropped to a crouch, snatching the cloth from the dirt and frantically shoving it back onto her head.
Faster. Faster.
It cannot be seen.
Never.
With trembling hands, she secured the linen, carefully tucking every stray strand of hair beneath the fabric. Finally, she pressed her palm against the top of the habit. The two small, curved protrusions were once again hidden.
Feeling the security of the disguise return, Danica let out a long, shuddering exhale. It's okay. I'm in the woods. No one saw.
She stood up, preparing to resume the search for Jamie. Suddenly, a visceral sense of being watched made her snap her head upward.
There, on a thick branch directly above the twig that had claimed her habit, sat Jamie.
He was hugging the trunk, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. He was staring at her with total, unmoving intensity.
Danica's pupils constricted. She locked eyes with him, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. His gaze was fixed exactly where she had just been fumbling with her head-wrap.
He had seen.
Jamie had seen the truth.
Time seemed to grind to a halt. The wind died. The birds went silent. The blood in Danica's veins felt like it had turned to ice.
What do I do?
What do I do?!
A thousand thoughts shrieked through her mind.
Kill him.
A dark, predatory voice whispered from the depths of her soul. If he dies, the secret dies with him. You can keep this life. Just push him. Make it look like an accident. He's just a human child. It's so easy.
She clenched her fists, a flash of lethal intent flickering in her eyes as she took a half-step toward the tree.
But then, she looked at his face. She looked at those innocent, youthful features. Her fists slowly uncurled. She looked down at her feet and let out a broken sigh.
I can't.
She forced herself to breathe, to stabilize. Then, she looked back up at the dazed Jamie. Slowly, she raised one hand. She pressed her index finger against her lips.
"Shhh."
She made the universal gesture for silence. Then, she forced her lips into the smile she was best at—the gentle, reassuring smile of a Sister.
In the tree, Jamie blinked at her. He didn't move; he seemed to be processing what he had witnessed. Several seconds passed. Then, he gave Danica a slow, vigorous nod.
He scrambled down the trunk like a nimble monkey, landing softly on the grass before her. He didn't speak. He simply stepped closer, looking up at her.
He extended his right hand. His small pinky finger was curled outward, stiff and stubborn.
A promise.
Danica looked at that tiny finger. Inexplicably, the storm in her heart settled. She reached out and hooked her own pinky around his.
"Is this... a secret between me and Sister Danica?" Jamie asked in a tiny, breathless whisper.
"Yes," Danica replied, her voice just as soft. "It is our secret."
Jamie broke into a radiant, genuine grin. He was overjoyed. Jamie finally had a "Real Secret." A secret shared only with Sister Danica. It was a secret far more important than the three coppers Father Anchi had paid him to spy on Sister Cecilia's bread stash.
Children's hearts are sensitive things. Every adult in town complained that Jamie was a chatterbox. His mother would pull his ear and say, "If you don't stop blabbing, I'll tan your hide!" The baker's wife would pinch his cheeks and grumble about him telling people her bread was hard. Even Father Anchi would give him coppers but shoo him away the moment the boy finished talking.
Only Sister Danica was different. She actually listened.
Once, Jamie had accidentally told everyone that their neighbor, Tom, still wet the bed. The next day, Tom had chased him with a stick. Jamie had run to Sister Danica, crying. She hadn't laughed at him or told him he deserved it. She had simply stroked his hair and said:
"It's okay, Jamie. When I was small, I loved sharing secrets too. Sharing is a happy thing, isn't it?"
Back then, Jamie had vowed to help her someday. And now, they shared something special. She had shared this with him. That meant she trusted him.
He looked up at her with a new, fierce determination. Jamie decided then and there: he would never tell a soul.
Because this was his and Sister Danica's most precious treasure.
☆☆☆
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