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Anastasia — The chapel felt smaller now. Sierra was still on her knees, the hem of her habit pooling around her like spilled ink. Madre Catalina circled her slowly, heels echoing against stone. “You disobeyed,” Catalina said softly. “Yes, Madre.” “And you think confession is enough?” Sierra’s fingers tightened against her skirt. “No.” Catalina stopped in front of her. “Stand.” Sierra rose slowly, pulse hammering in her throat. Catalina was close now — too close. Close enough for Sierra to smell faint incense and something warmer beneath it. “Remove it,” Catalina said calmly. Sierra hesitated. Not out of modesty. Out of awareness. The chapel doors were locked. The windows were too high. The saints carved into the walls looked like silent witnesses. “Do you question me?” Catalina asked. “No, Madre.” Slowly, with trembling hands, Sierra untied the cord at her waist. The heavy black fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. She stood there in the pale slip beneath, vulnerable under candl

Character created by @Ivy Ivarian

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