The small café was dim and nearly empty, matching the heavy tension between Moonella and Alexa.Outside, the sky was painted a dark gray, and the slow drizzle traced lonely paths down the windows.Two coffee cups sat between them, steam rising quietly as if the air itself held its breath.
Moonella stared at Alexa, her best friend struggling to mask the fear behind her usual stubbornness.But they both knew — whatever they were dealing with was far more dangerous than they'd expected.
"I almost got caught yesterday, Moon," Alexa said, her voice low and shaky."That nun... she's not just careful. It's like—" she paused, swallowing hard, "—like she could feel I was there."
Moonella clenched her hands under the table.Alexa's failed attempt wasn't just a small mistake — it was a warning.They couldn't afford to play it safe anymore.
"We need to change the plan," Moonella said, her voice barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the rain outside."If we keep stalking her from the outside, we'll never uncover the truth."
Alexa narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Moonella leaned forward, determination burning in her gaze."We go in. From the inside. As volunteers."
Alexa scoffed. "You're insane. You want us to walk straight into her trap?"
Moonella nodded.She had wrestled with this decision all night, balancing fear against reason.But deep inside — maybe driven by Elira's lingering spirit — she knew this was the only way.
"She's recruiting volunteers for a charity event next week. I found the ad on a local forum."Moonella pulled out her laptop and showed Alexa the simple advertisement:
"Volunteers Needed for Children's Charity Event. Contact St. Rosemary's Orphanage."
Alexa's throat tightened.The name of the place might be new, but the evil behind it was the same: Sister Helena.
Moonella continued, "We sign up. We get in. We observe. We gather evidence. And then we expose her."
"And if she catches us?" Alexa whispered.
Moonella met her friend's gaze."Then we make sure she doesn't."
Alexa closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. "Fine. But we need backup plans.Hidden cameras. Voice recorders. GPS trackers, even."
Moonella smiled grimly. "Already found a place that sells them."
Without another word, they silently sealed the pact between them:Whatever awaited, they would face it — together.
A few hours later, they were standing inside a dusty, cluttered electronics shop in the shadiest part of town.Flickering lights hung overhead, casting long, broken shadows across shelves packed with forgotten gadgets.
"There," Moonella whispered, pulling Alexa toward a rack of tiny spy cameras.
They selected two button-sized cameras, a small voice recorder slim enough to hide inside a bag, and two emergency GPS bracelets that could silently broadcast their location if needed.
Alexa fumbled through her wallet, hands slightly trembling as she paid the old, disinterested shopkeeper.
When they stepped back into the night, heavy rain pelted the cracked sidewalk.They sprinted toward Moonella's car, slamming the doors shut just as a lightning bolt lit up the dark sky.
Inside the car, silence hung thick between them.
"Moon..." Alexa finally spoke, voice small. "If anything goes wrong... we're running, right?"
Moonella stared out the windshield, watching the rain blur the world outside.
"Yeah," she said."We're running."
Even though deep down, she wasn't sure it would be that easy.
That night, Moonella's apartment turned into their war room.They prepared every detail carefully: stitching the micro cameras into their clothes, tucking the recorder into Alexa's bag, charging the GPS bracelets.
"Why does this feel like we're preparing for war?" Alexa muttered, threading a wire through her hoodie.
Moonella gave a tired smile. "Because we are."
They stayed up late, memorizing the orphanage's layout from online maps, creating simple silent signals between them:a tap on the shoulder meant "be careful," a knock on the table meant "run."
Before dawn broke, Moonella lay awake staring at the ceiling, haunted by fleeting images of Elira's face.
"I made a promise," she thought. "And I intend to keep it."
The day finally arrived.
Moonella wore a plain gray sweater and jeans, blending into the crowd of young, eager volunteers.Alexa opted for an oversized hoodie and a small backpack, masking her nerves behind a thin, forced smile.
They drove nearly an hour to the outskirts of the city, where St. Rosemary's stood proudly against the gray sky.Unlike the old orphanage, this building was newer, freshly painted, surrounded by a neat little garden.But the air around it...Moonella could feel the wrongness like a cold hand pressing against her chest.
She turned off the engine and looked at Alexa.
"Last chance to back out," she said quietly.
Alexa exhaled sharply and opened the door. "If you're crazy enough to go in, then so am I."
They walked together up the slick, wet stone path leading to the wrought iron gate.
A woman stepped out to greet them — an elderly nun with a gentle smile and sharp, assessing eyes.
Sister Helena.
"Welcome, children," she said sweetly. "It's wonderful to see young hearts willing to help."
Moonella and Alexa exchanged a quick glance, forcing polite smiles.
"We're here to volunteer," Moonella said, keeping her voice steady.
Sister Helena nodded and stepped aside, ushering them through the gate.
"Come in. The world needs more kind souls like you."
As they crossed the threshold, Moonella felt a distinct shift in the atmosphere.Like passing through a curtain — from the ordinary world into something far darker.
Inside, whitewashed hallways stretched endlessly.Childish paintings lined the walls.She could hear laughter somewhere — laughter that sounded too hollow, too empty.
Moonella scanned every detail, her instincts screaming.
Everything looked perfect.Too perfect.
Sister Helena led them into a small room furnished with folding chairs and a battered wooden table.A few other "volunteers" were already there, chatting quietly, nervously.
"Please, have a seat," Sister Helena said, her voice warm but commanding."We'll begin the orientation and interviews shortly."
Moonella and Alexa sat down, careful not to show any sign of fear.
Moonella pressed lightly against the button-camera stitched into her sweater — it was recording.Alexa tightened her grip on her bag, the recorder inside already capturing everything.
Across the room, Sister Helena watched them.
Watched them a little too closely.A little too long.
Moonella's stomach twisted into knots.She knew this was only the beginning.
And the darkness they were about to step into... was far deeper than they ever imagined.