A lawn wrapped around from the cathedral's left to its backside. At its center stood a gnarly, white tree, not dead yet but hanging on with what was left of its muted leaves. Wearing a faint smile, Elisabeth carefully guided the spider onto the grass. She herself didn’t dare enter the lawn. As she stared at the Black Forest beyond the whitewashed fence that lined the parameters, her smile melted away. She had a feeling that something... important happened here at the lawn, yet much like the name of the boy, she couldn’t remember. Whatever it was, she usually felt compelled to never enter the lawn again, let alone to enter the daunting Black Forest that was forbidden to any child.

Yet... At that moment, the wind blew in from behind her, urging her to enter. Childlike mischievousness nearly overcame her with unholy awe. The forest pulled her in, offering everything she was barred to desire: a royal gown with rubies and a side of servants, a world with a great feast of illogical wonders to behold, a succulent apple hanging off a silver branch. Then a curious thing happened. Her vision seemed... to... w̶h̵i̵te out.

DOME. DOME.

Tolling bells knocked Elisabeth back to her senses. A crowd of murmurs dressed in black spilled out from the cathedral doors. What was Elisabeth thinking about, again? Whatever her thoughts, memories of Sister Agneth quickly fogged them over. Now was her chance. She waited until the cathedral coughed up its last few mourners. Then she slipped inside.

Sight does not describe this holy place. It was sound, or at least, how your ears may hear “hollow,” “vast,” and “suffocating” all at once. After dipping her fingers in the water and doing the sign of the cross, she pattered down the long aisle. The high, vacant stone arches weighted on Elisabeth. Or, no, perhaps the weight was from the stares of the saints of fractured glass. Elisabeth believed it in her heart: it was as though the saints themselves finally agreed to join in the side-glance parade performed by the other nuns, caregivers, and therapists. The whole town always chittered and chattered of this child’s peculiarities for as long as Elisabeth could remember.

No, she reasoned to herself: they judged her as far back as the day her little-infant-self appeared on this cathedral’s doorstep, left without a biological parent who had the guts to claim this freak child as their own flesh and blood.

For the first time in her life, Elisabeth felt like she did not belong there. Nor had the right to. Yet on and on her feet went until, once the proper hand gestures and prayers were said, Elisabeth knelt behind the front pew. She didn’t dare to walk up to the casket again. No, she sat there, barely breathing. She took another puff of her inhaler. Finally, she couldn’t handle the stares of the stone man nailed to a cross that towered behind Sister Agneth’s coffin.

“Why...” she said aloud, her mouse-like voice sounding more like a tadpole’s croak. “Why? ...No—no, I shouldn’t question. Like what everyone said, everything happens for a reason, just have faith. That is what we must believe. But... Did I do something wrong? Am I being punished?” She angrily glared at the nailed man. “Have I not already dedicated my life to serve?” She could only bare the statue’s tortured eyes for a second before dropping her head.

“I mean, I help the other children however much I can at the Wohngruppe. I stay behind after class with the sisters to clean. I volunteer at the cathedral for anything they need. So why? Why this now? Why?”

Tears trickled.

The spider she saved before watched from the corners.

“I lost my only mother,” Elisabeth sobbed.

All colors faded. The stained-glass kaleidoscope eye of the entire cathedral seemed listless hues. Elisabeth screeched.

“No... No, don’t question Him. I need—I need to focus. Shut it out. Stay positive. Gosh, I’m so weak. To be a sister, I must be a good girl. I must be a good girl. A good girl. I—"

A ray of sunlight beamed through the orange of the stained-glass, slicing through the gray and blinding her eyes.

Where are you?

n̸̛̠͌̀̏̃O̴̟͖͚͕͙̞̳̲̟̠̿͋͆̈̍́̅̚!̵̠̰͎̫̐̐̓͘͜ ̴̙̣̯̄̆̾͜i̵͇̟͎̝̣̖̣͙̎͜ͅT̴̺͇͙̙̟̲̯̻͗͌'̵̨̟̥̯͎̩̠͎̣̅̍ŝ̸̳͕̩̝̪͋̆̀̈́ ̴͇̬̰̳͔̓͒̿̄̉̏̍͝M̷̩̳͖̂̀i̸̝̩̯͙̰͖͙̟̲̍̾N̷̩̼̤̺̳̍̀̈́͑͐͛̇̂̕͜è̶̛̺͗̈̋̈̀͘͝͝!̴͚̈́͊̽̌̍͂͘͠

Lighting cracked.

Elisabeth bolted up from her feather mattress—

BONK!

...Only to bonk her forehead on the top-bunk over her. She slowly lolled back onto her pillows.

Whaddya know, it was the very night of the Vigil.

About five minutes prior to Elisabeth’s untimely doom.