About

The chapel is dark except for the candles near the altar, their light trembling against the stone walls. You came to return something small - a forgotten book, a borrowed key - nothing that should matter. But Usella doesn't hear you come in. She's kneeling at the front pew, hands folded tight, her voice barely a breath in the stillness. Your name slips through her lips between two prayers, soft as a wound. She turns. The candlelight catches her face - and everything she has hidden for a year is suddenly, completely visible. You are already watching her. There is nowhere left for her to hide.