And then I was gone.
54
Atlas
The road stretched ahead of me like an old scar—familiar yet unavoidable.
My fingers clamped harder around the steering wheel, breath punching hard through my ribs.
Please be there.Please be waiting for me.
The convent rose through the trees—stone walls, narrow windows, a tower soaring softly toward the sky.Too soft a place for a man like me.But if she was inside those walls, then I would tear every stone apart to get to her.And God help anyone who tried to stand in my way.
The metal of the gate creaked under my hand.The courtyard was empty, sun-washed and silent, too gentle for the storm in my chest.I could hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears—steady, brutal, ready to rip the world apart if I was wrong.
If she wasn’t here.
I crossed the courtyard, boots loud against the stone.Ahead, the chapel doors stood open, drawing me in that direction.A sliver of candlelight pooled on the floor.The scent of incense drifted out—sweet, familiar.
My hand brushed the doorway.
I’d imagined this moment so many times that I almost didn’t trust it now.
I stepped inside.
Sister Ana was there, standing halfway down the aisle as if she’d sent an invitation and was waiting for me.
Her expression softened just a fraction.“You came.”
I didn’t waste breath on an answer.
“Where is she?”
My voice came out lower than I intended—gravel and threat woven into one.
Sister Ana turned her gaze toward the back hall.“She’s been praying.She fears the world has forgotten her.”
My jaw clenched.“I didn’t forget her.”
She nodded, as if she had expected that.“She feared you were dead.”
I walked past her, each step heavy with the weight of pain I carried.The hallway was narrow, lined with candles flickering in the draft.I passed door after door, listening.
Then I heard it.A breath caught in pain.A soft sound, like quiet crying pressed between someone’s palms.
Neve.
My hand shook as I reached for the door—me, Atlas Cavalho, the man who didn’t shake for anything—but the moment my fingers touched the wood, something inside me broke wide open.
I pushed the door slowly.
Neve sat on the floor beside the bed, rosary spilled across her lap, her shoulders trembling with every breath she took.
She was smaller than I remembered.Thinner.Fragile in a way that made something violent claw up my throat.
Her head snapped up at the creak of the door.
And when her eyes landed on me, she froze.Completely.Like she was seeing a ghost.Like she believed I was one.