Charlie sat in the small, dimly lit office at the back of the rectory, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. The faint hum of distant traffic barely penetrated the thick stone walls, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He had spent the last several hours reviewing the parish finances, but now his mind wandered far from the numbers in front of him. It was elsewhere—at Hell's Angels.

He hadn't expected to see her tonight. He hadn't expected Mae.

The name felt strange in his thoughts. She had once been Seraphina, a woman of pure faith and gentle devotion. That was how he knew her, how he still thought of her. Yet, here she was, this new woman—Mae—the headline act at one of the city's most notorious clubs. And while it wasn't his place to judge, seeing her on that stage had unsettled him in a way he couldn't shake.

Charlie leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. The memory of her performance flashed through his mind—fluid, captivating, yet somehow distant. Even as she moved with confidence and power, there was something behind her eyes, something that spoke of a deep, lingering hurt. He recognized that look, that subtle mask she wore to hide her pain.

He had only stayed for a short while, keeping to the shadows, not wanting to be seen. It wasn't a place for someone in his position, after all. He had left before the end of her act, slipping out quietly, but he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since. She was different now, but still the same woman underneath—still Seraphina.

What happened to her? he wondered for the hundredth time. How did she end up here?

He hadn't seen her in years, not since she had left the convent and disappeared into the city. Her departure had been sudden, unexpected, and it had left him with a feeling of unfinished business. There had been no closure, no final conversation to understand. And now, all this time later, he found her in a place he never would have imagined.

Charlie sighed and stood up, walking over to the small window that overlooked the quiet street below. The village had always been a place of peace for him, a place where he could focus on his duties and the people he served. But lately, things felt different. The weight of his responsibilities felt heavier, the lines of right and wrong more blurred than they had ever been before.

He stared out at the darkened street, his mind still on Mae. He couldn't help but wonder what had driven her to leave the life she had once dedicated herself to. There had been something fragile about her, even back then, something that spoke of wounds she had never shared. He had tried to guide her, tried to offer her solace, but perhaps it hadn't been enough.

Maybe I should have done more, he thought, guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind.

Charlie turned away from the window, his brow furrowed. He had always prided himself on being able to help those in need, to offer them guidance and support. But when it came to Seraphina—Mae—he felt like he had failed. And now she was lost in a world he didn't fully understand, surrounded by people who didn't care for her the way he had.

The door to his office creaked open, and one of the parish volunteers, an elderly woman named Mrs. Davison, poked her head in. "Father Charlie," she said softly, "I just wanted to let you know the evening prayer group is gathering in the main hall."

Charlie offered her a warm smile, pulling himself from his thoughts. "Thank you, Mrs. Davison. I'll be there shortly."

As she closed the door, Charlie exhaled slowly, the weight of the evening pressing down on him. He knew he had his responsibilities to the parish, the people who depended on him, but tonight, his heart was elsewhere.

He walked back to his desk, picking up his phone. He hesitated for a moment before scrolling through his contacts and finding Mae's name—still saved as Seraphina. His thumb hovered over the screen, tempted to call, to reach out, to offer her something—anything—that might help her. But what could he say? How could he explain that he had seen her, that he had been watching from the shadows? It would only make things worse.

With a sigh, he put the phone down and sat back in his chair. His mind raced with thoughts of Mae and the life she now led. He had to believe that there was still hope for her, that she could find her way back. But how? She was in too deep now, surrounded by temptation and danger, and he wasn't sure how to reach her without crossing a line.

The guilt weighed heavily on him. He had always believed in redemption, in second chances, but tonight, it felt more distant than ever.

She's not lost, he told himself firmly. She just needs guidance. She needs help.

But even as he thought it, doubt crept into his mind. Could he really help her? Or had he already missed his chance?

The phone buzzed softly on his desk, pulling him from his thoughts. Charlie glanced at it, his stomach twisting as he saw an unfamiliar number flash across the screen. He hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Father Charlie," the voice on the other end was calm, but there was a coldness to it, something unsettling. "I believe we need to talk."

Charlie's brow furrowed. "Who is this?"

The voice chuckled softly. "That's not important right now. What's important is that you understand something very clearly. Mae—Seraphina—she's in a dangerous place. She's made choices that are... irreversible."

Charlie's heart raced. He straightened in his chair, gripping the phone tightly. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"

"You don't need to know who I am," the voice continued, calm and deliberate. "What you need to know is that she's in too deep. She's tied to things you can't imagine. And if you try to interfere, it won't end well for anyone involved."

Charlie's mind raced. His instincts told him to press for more, to demand answers, but something about the voice chilled him to the core. Whoever this person was, they weren't bluffing.

"Mae deserves a chance to decide for herself," Charlie said, his voice steady despite the tension in his chest. "She can find her way back."

The voice on the other end paused for a moment before replying, "Perhaps. But the clock is ticking, Father. She's running out of time."

The line went dead, leaving Charlie sitting in the heavy silence of his office, the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. He stared at the phone in his hand, his mind swirling with questions and fears.

Whoever that was, they knew about Seraphina. They knew about Mae. And they were watching, controlling things from the shadows. His worst fears had been confirmed—Mae wasn't just lost, she was being manipulated, and the people behind it were dangerous.

But Charlie couldn't stand by and do nothing. He had made a vow to protect those in his care, and even though Seraphina had left the church, she was still someone he cared about. He couldn't let her be consumed by the darkness she was caught up in.

He stood up, his resolve hardening. He didn't know what he was up against, but he knew one thing for certain: he wasn't going to let Mae—Seraphina—fall any further. Not if he could help it.

With a deep breath, Charlie prepared to leave the office, his mind already working through how he would approach her, how he would offer her the help she desperately needed. He didn't have all the answers, but he couldn't ignore the growing feeling that time was running out.