For a heartbeat, Jake thought she wouldn’t answer.
It was like even her own name was something she had to guard.
Then she whispered, “Sister Elise.”
Jake nodded once. “Elise.”
He watched her hands curl into the blanket, fingers tense.
Running hands.
Hands that didn’t know how to rest.
She tried to sit up, but her body protested. Jake reached out and gently held her shoulder.
“Take it easy,” he said. “No one’s coming for you here.”
Fear flickered in her eyes—quick and sharp.
Not fear of him.
Fear of being found.
She swallowed hard, and her voice dropped to almost nothing.
“Jake… if they ask about me, you must say you never saw me.”
Jake leaned back, eyebrows lifting.
“They,” he repeated. “Who exactly is coming after a nun in the middle of a Kansas summer?”
Elise looked toward the door like someone might walk in any second. Like the walls themselves weren’t enough to keep the world out.
Then she whispered the words that made Jake’s spine tighten.
“Jake… I did not run from God.”
She paused, the pause heavy.
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