We kept running nonstop through a narrow alley, with each step carrying less hope that we would escape that situation unharmed. Suddenly, a man opened a door and quickly gestured for us to come inside. Without hesitation, we entered.

  The middle-aged man was short, with a weary and sorrowful expression. He looked at us with concern.

  — Are you alright? Those damned Church men never stop.

  — Thank you, sir. I thought we weren’t going to make it out of there. — I replied, so out of breath that I could barely form the words.

  — You can stay here tonight until things calm down. I have a spare room.

  He promptly led us toward the bedroom. Along the way, I noticed someone sitting in a chair so still they looked like a statue. Though it struck me as strange, I chose to ignore it for the moment. The help we were receiving was already more than enough — there was no reason to look for more trouble.

  The room was cramped, with only a bed pressed against the wall, a small space in front of it, and a desk to the side. It looked like a child’s bedroom, decorated with simple, youthful ornaments. That night, it would serve as our small refuge. The man excused himself, leaving me alone with the mysterious girl.

  — Looks like we only have one bed. — she said, removing her sweat-soaked outer clothing.

  — What are you doing? I don’t even know your name. — I was clearly nervous, being in such a situation with such a beautiful girl.

  — I’d recommend you take yours off too. The way they’re soaked, you’ll end up hypothermic in this cold. By the way, my name is Catherine. You probably heard the guards shouting it.

  Following her advice, I began removing my clothes as well and introduced myself properly. I asked how the guards knew who she was, but her answer was somewhat evasive, steering the conversation away from what truly mattered to me at that moment — what we were going to do about my captured friend.

  The thought filled me with anguish. Finder, who barely knew me, had saved me for the second time. It was more than my duty to help him. Still, trying to calm myself, I murmured that this was something to deal with tomorrow. First, we needed rest.

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  — I think we should sleep close together. The night might grow colder, and we shouldn’t waste the warmth. — she said, lifting the blanket and lying down casually on the small bed.

  With no better alternative in mind, I lay beside her. I could feel the warmth of her body against mine, and that moment of closeness seemed to wash away the chaos of the day. Just as I was drifting off, I heard her whisper in my ear:

  “Thank you for trying to help me back at the tavern.”

  Then I closed my eyes, and the long day in that village ended in a rare moment of peace.

  I woke the next morning to the sight of Catherine dressing herself, the morning sunlight falling over her long black hair and casting the silhouette of her figure across the floor. Without delay, I rose as well. Once ready, we went downstairs, where we found the man and a young boy seated at the table.

  — Ah, you’re awake? I have a little food for the couple. — he said awkwardly, setting down plates with small pieces of bread and scrambled eggs. — Don’t mind us. This is my son, Luke.

  The boy seemed disconnected, staring forward blankly. His mouth opened at times as if he had no proper control over it. His skin was pale — almost corpse-like — but what unsettled me most was the feeling that something about him was incomplete, as though part of his very existence was missing.

  Trying not to touch on what was clearly a delicate matter, I thanked the man for his hospitality. Catherine, however, went straight to the point.

  — The Church did this to him, didn’t they? I’ve seen many cases like this.

  — Those bastards took my Luke from me and returned him like this. He… he was only sick for a few days. It wasn’t the Plague. He… he wasn’t infected. — the man said, his eyes filling with tears.

  The atmosphere grew heavy. The event seemed recent, judging by how deeply shaken the small man became while recounting it. Yet there was still a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes — the same hope that made him ask if he could help us in any way.

  I explained what had happened to my friend during the chase. The faint light in his eyes grew stronger as he offered to help us rescue him. He said he knew others nearby who were not fond of the Church and could contact them if necessary. I could not refuse such help, even if it meant placing them in danger. I justified it to myself as their chance to rise against their oppressors. Still, I had yet to ask Catherine whether she would assist us.

  — And you? Do you have your own matters to settle with the Church?

  — Hm. I suppose I can help you, John. I’m curious about who you two really are. The downside is that they already know my face.

  — That’s fine. I’ll think of something.

  Throughout the day, I carefully devised a way to reach our goal. The people Mr. Garvin introduced us to had various pieces of information about the city — from bakers to cleaning workers inside the Church itself. I learned he knew them all because, before his son’s tragedy, he had been a philosopher who wandered the streets, trying to bring life to that somber place.

  By the end of the day, I had gathered all the necessary pieces. We prepared to begin the plan at dawn.