Episode 3-

The church had emptied after morning prayer.

Only the soft echo of footsteps remained, mixed with the quiet murmur of the nuns cleaning the pews.

Clara and Kathy were still wiping candle stands as part of their punishment.

Kathy was humming like she was in a musical. Clara just wanted the floor to swallow her.

“Next time,” Clara muttered, “remind me to set three alarms.”

“Next time,” Kathy replied, “remind me not to room with you.”

Before Clara could answer, a familiar low voice drifted through the air.

From the confessional booth.

Adrian.

Clara froze mid-polish.

He was talking to the priest in a calm, quiet tone — but his words carried just enough that she could hear fragments from where she stood behind the nearest pillar.

“I’ve done things, Father… things I shouldn’t have.”

Clara’s hand stilled. Her curiosity fought with her conscience.

You shouldn’t eavesdrop, she told herself.

But what if it’s important? her other side whispered.

Kathy noticed her blank stare. “Uh-oh. You’ve got that look. The ‘I’m about to sin again’ look.”

Clara shushed her, tilting her head toward the booth. Kathy grinned, tiptoeing closer beside her.

Inside the confessional, Adrian’s voice grew lower.

“I’ve hurt people… not always by choice. My father’s business… it’s not clean. It never was.”

Clara’s eyes widened. His father’s business?

“My family owns this church,” he continued quietly. “And the convent across the street. My grandfather donated it decades ago. It’s under our name. They say it’s holy ground… but even holy ground gets dirty, Father.”

Clara’s mouth dropped open. She almost dropped the candle she was holding.

This church… belongs to them?

Kathy’s eyes went round as dinner plates. She mouthed, WHAT?!

Clara’s heart thumped hard. Suddenly everything made sense — the whispers, the strange men who came sometimes, the donations that kept the school running.

And him. The tattooed man in black.

Adrian Vitale wasn’t just any visitor.

He was the Vitale.

Then his voice softened — unexpectedly gentle.

“And there’s something else,” he said after a long pause.

“I think I’ve done something even worse than the rest.”

The priest’s voice was calm. “What is it, my son?”

Adrian let out a faint laugh, half-ashamed, half-in disbelief.

“I think I’ve got a crush on a nun… or maybe a going-to-be one.”

Clara nearly choked on air. Kathy slapped a hand over her own mouth to stop a squeal.

“I know it’s wrong,” Adrian continued. “She shouldn’t even cross my thoughts. But she does. Every day. Every time I walk into this place.”

Kathy’s eyes sparkled with mischief. She mouthed, Oh. My. God. He means you.

Clara’s entire body went still — heat rising up her neck, her pulse fluttering like wings.

From the confessional came a small chuckle. “Love can test even the strongest vows,” the priest said kindly.

“Yeah,” Adrian murmured. “But if temptation had a face… hers would be it.”

Before Clara could move, the confessional door creaked open.

Adrian stepped out, tall and calm, the afternoon light tracing his jawline.

His eyes scanned the church — and landed directly on Clara and Kathy half-hidden behind a pillar.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then his lips curved into that slow, dangerous smile again.

“Eavesdropping,” he said softly, “isn’t very holy.”

Kathy whispered, “We’re so dead.”

Clara’s face flushed crimson. “We— we were just—”

Adrian raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this. “Praying behind a wall?”

Clara straightened, trying to look confident. “Cleaning.”

He took a step closer. “Then you missed a spot.”

She blinked, realizing his eyes weren’t on the floor.

Kathy grabbed her arm. “Okay, holy moment’s over, time to go!”

Adrian chuckled under his breath as they hurried off, his voice soft and teasing: “See you around… Sister Trouble.”

Clara’s pulse refused to calm down.

And as they walked away, she whispered, “God help me… because I think I just met sin in person.”

A few steps later, Kathy glanced back nervously.

“Clara?”

“What?”

“Was he… serious? Like, is he real or just making fun of us?”

Clara frowned. “What do you mean, idiot?”

Kathy leaned closer, lowering her voice. “We both saw him for the first time today — and he knew we were listening. Maybe he said all that on purpose, you know… to mess with us.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Or…?”

Kathy smirked. “Or he’s got a crush on Sister Maria.”

She burst out laughing.

Clara tried to glare, but a laugh escaped her too. “Yeah… maybe that.”

Their laughter echoed softly down the empty aisle — a little too loud, a little too nervous — as the last candle flickered behind them.

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