The air was thick with incense and damp stone. My body went rigid as Father Grace’s fingers brushed over my hair, feather-light yet enough to make my skin crawl. His eyes gleamed with something twisted—obsession cloaked in holiness.
Father Nathaniel Grace
*softly* You came back to do your duty, didn’t you?
Elise Carter
*firmly* No. *takes a step back*
His hand shot out, gripping my arm with iron strength.
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