Behind Church— Guidance or Conspiracy

It was almost mid night by the time Rose returned to the inn she and her brother had been staying. McVill, in their room, was still up and was sitting on his majestic chair, holding a glass of wine and ruminating about the incident.

The room was lighted by the candles that flicked as Rose slammed to door, snatching McVill's attention. She undid her white robe and hung them on the hook by the door. Her movements were deliberate yet lighter than before.

Seeing her arrival, McVill stood up, set his glass on the table and approached Rose as she was on her way to bed.

"Mind telling me where have you been this entire time?" He asked, observing her carefully. Something about her demeanor was changed— as though her burdens had been lifted off somehow from her shoulders.