THE GENTLE RAYS of sunlight touched my eyelids, waking me from the comforting sleep I hadn't had for the past few days. Slowly fluttering my eyes to adjust to the sun's brightness before sitting up from the bed—the secluded room seems to be adjacent and adheres to a familiar atmosphere meant for one person to whom the owner wants to lend his trust. 

Dominic was already walking towards me, seeming freshly showered and well-dressed as his large, commendable hands carried a handful of trays. His emotion was incomprehensible due to his soft raven hair, which covered almost half of his eyes. It was moist and unruly, common for men who had just taken a Luke warm bath.

"There's room service here every Saturday," he started before placing the tray on my lap. He stared at me adoringly, praising every detail of my eyes. And I ordered breakfast since you must take it before returning home." He spoke softly, almost seraphic and sincere. 

My chest tightened for an inscrutable reason, focusing my stare on my plate since looking at his eyes made me uncomfortable. I muttered inaudible words of gratitude before eating my meal, softening my stare when every food had elegance and affection. 

I took my first bite, but my blonde hair made its way to cover my mouth, and I stopped eating from embarrassment. Dominic noticed my uneasiness, and his eyes flickered before taking his necktie beside the nightstand, running his fingers through it before tying my hair and grasping something in his hands—my breath was halted when his manly scent lingered. And his own hot breath fanned across my neck as he put the attachment.

He's just a friend, Mary Jane. There's no reason to cross the line, I reminded myself. 

Dominic put the remaining strands of hair behind my ears, touching the slightest of my skin. Noticing that he had just put on a beautiful necklace, he said gently yet commandingly, "Keep this. It will make you feel safer."

It was almost eight thirty when I walked out of his room, freshly cleaned and well-prepared as I made my way through the Dorm's hallway. 

Mastema's reflection irradiates under the sun's rays, complementing the series of vintage architecture that it emphasizes. I was only ten feet away from Dominic's room when I saw Esmeralda or Alda. Who just left her room, looking at my eyes with doubt?

"Mary Jane,"

I grew stiff and hid the necklace under my dress, lowering my head before walking past her. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping that she wouldn't press about confidentiality. But her petite yet firm hands stopped me in my tracks, grabbing me before taking me inside her room.

"What's that for? Did you know that guy?"

My eyes knit together from the question itself: Alda is my friend. But her false accusations about Dominic made me unsettled. I avoided her burning gaze before speaking softly: "I...sleep in his room...because of the event that occurred a few nights ago. And yes, I know him." I explained, knowing that she already knew what I was referring to.

"No, you didn't even know him, Mary Jane,"

"He's my friend."

"But he's dangerous. There's no reason for you to deal with him. He never cared about a certain person's feelings. And he might hurt you. Look, I know that you're innocent because you grew up in a monastery, but that doesn't mean that I would just sit back and let you get closer to that predator—he taunts the things that he wants. And you might be trapped and suffocated when you're already under his control." Alda pleads, grasping both of my arms.

I slowly put her hands away from her arms, staring at the floor before speaking, "He's not like that, and Dominic has never been cold-hearted and selfish. It's just that most of you didn't understand him the way I did."

Her eyes soften from my statement. But she chooses to abnegate her feelings away. 

"I see you're already attached to Dominic," she trailed off.

"Yes, and he's the only friend that I trusted most, the one who understands me; that's why I always obey what he wants me to do because Dominic promised that he'll never go beyond what I permit him to have," I spoke sincerely. Now staring into Alda's eyes with permission of acceptance, 

She shook her head disapprovingly, "You're too soft and innocent, and no wonder Dominic knew how to coax you."

THE SILENCE WAS DEFEANING for the past two hours. I sat with abstinence as my eyes bemused on the windshield, unaware of the long stripes of raindrops glowing thoroughly along the tinted glass. What happened to Dominic that made people avoid him? I asked, but then I remembered that he was the one who chose to isolate himself from his environment.

The questions were left until we arrived at the mansion, looking at Mrs. Hea, who was already standing in standing in the house's doorway. She looked radiant and beautiful, as her light brown hair flowed perfectly against her back, contrasted with a cream-white dress and low-cut pencil skirt that she wore, far recovered since the last time I observed. She's smiling warmly in my direction, but the thing that caught my attention was her hands, wrapped around delicately from the man standing beside her. Who has the same physical characteristics as mine?

"Welcome, young mistress," one of the butlers greeted me as I made my way through the car. The cold weather hit my skin roughly, so I wrapped my arms around my body until the maids covered me with a warm, thick coat, guiding me like a precious possession until I approached Mrs. Heathers.

"I've missed you, my child," Mrs. Heathers whispered in my ears as she embraced me, feeling the warmness of her touch.

I broke the hug and looked warily at the man standing beside her. He had Dark blonde hair with a few specks of golden tinge amidst the depths of his light blue eyes, which were the same hue as mine. The bridge of his nose and his lips were perfectly shaped. His skin was not paler than mine but tan, and the outfit he wore reminded me of his current position in our house.

"He's your father, Mary Jane. And we've been waiting for this day to come.," she said delightedly, her dark red eyes gleaming as she stared between my father and me.

My voice was caught in my throat. I looked longingly into his familiar eyes before the tears escaped unconditionally. Where have you been all this time? I thought but didn't dare ask. His eyes were covered with unreadable emotion before he extended his hands, embracing me warmly with pure longing and sadness. And if I weren't attentive enough, I wouldn't have caught his phrase of apology, an apology that he and his mother had found me.

The maids escorted us through the dining room, and Mrs. Heathers acquainted us with a few discussions concerning my school. Even though I had a few words to say, I tried to rephrase each sentence to make it seem longer. Her eyes glinted with amusement before she put down her utensils and focused on mine: "How about your new DormDorm? Did you like it?"

I stiffened and lowered my gaze, removing all my anxieties. "It's fair and acceptable, considering it's a bargain to save me from expulsion. And besides, I've met a few people that I become acquainted with,"

"Like what?" She pursued, curving her lips.

"Alda, Emily, and Luca. They're the first people who helped me adjust to their way of ethics." I said this, getting back from eating my food.

"Then, what's the necklace on your neck?" Mrs. Heathers asked amusedly, catching Father's attention at the same time.

"It's from a special friend of mine." I smiled softly, grasping the detailed attachment on my hands, knowing they had come from Dominic.

AFTER WE HAD DINNER, the storm started to range outside, with the loud rustling of air and chaotic sounds of heavy raindrops pouring omnipotently through the roof of the house. I stared intently through the thin window glass, letting my thoughts drift from the scenery—the green grass in our front yard seemed gray and covered with thick mud, leaving an unsettling feeling as the long black trees started to fall apart.

I remember when Sister Diana would bring out her rosaries and thick verses of the BibleBible piled up together, encouraging all of us foster children to pray for at least two hours just for protection and asking that none of the people would be devastated during the storm. She would always say that counting the raindrops doesn't mean literally pointing your finger at every drop but letting the drops count your thoughts away.

She's a wise nun and the most kind-hearted of all. Sister Diana was supposed to be a physicist and major in chemistry, an aspiring scientist, coming from a wealthy family and a clear path to success. But she left it and chose to serve in the monastery.

When I would ask her what changed her mind, she would always say that God finds a way to leave a soul purpose in every individual. That's when the thought persuaded me to become a nun once because I wanted to be like every sister in foster care, who served others the way they serve god------but right now; I wasn't so sure if I still wanted to follow that dream because I have a feeling that I'm meant to do something more.

I took one last glance through the window before turning my heels and walking down the hallway. I looked at the paintings displayed on every wall, which were vintage and dark-themed. The first were paintings of angels and demons, emphasizing both creatures' characteristics.

All of the paintings were made magnificently, and it almost made me stop just to survey every detail. Every painting has a message under its portrait. Most of them were Latin, but the only English scribe that I could read was the painting of a beautiful angel placing her hands in crystal clear water.

Not all angels have wings, and not all Demons have horns. If Demons were frightening, more so the angels…

My hands curiously touched the inscription but gasped when the painting fell off. It took me a couple of minutes to reopen my eyes, and when I did, there was a hole, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw the things inside.

It's my missing rosaries and Bible.

Turn the picture, see the words...

I grab the Bible, and my chest rises in panic as I flip through the pages. Stopping when I saw a few folded pages. Reading the verses, Prophetic scribes, next time you'll see...

"The mystery of the seven stars which thou sawest in my right hand, and the seven golden candlesticks. The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches: and the seven candlesticks thou sawest are the seven churches."

Amidst the pages…

"And I saw thrones, and they sat upon them, and judgment was given."

There's an answer for red.