7

  Finn lingered at the edge of the marketplace, the evening air still warm but quieter now, the bustle of the day fading behind him. His father and Maxi had already started walking home, chatting about trivial things—the day’s busiest orders, who had been late to school, and what they would eat for dinner. Finn waved them off, then slipped down the narrow streets toward the cathedral.

  The familiar spire rose above the city blocks, welcoming him with the scent of incense and the soft echo of prayers. He entered quietly, hoping to see Alice, but found her asleep in a small corner, tucked under a blanket Father Ben had provided. Her breathing was steady, her hand relaxed on her lap. Finn didn’t want to wake her. He knelt briefly, smoothing the blanket over her shoulders, a quiet promise forming in his mind: he would return.

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  Father Ben approached him gently. “She’s safe, Finn. You did the right thing bringing her here. Don’t worry—she’ll be looked after.”

  Finn nodded, his chest lighter but still carrying the weight of the morning’s events. “Thank you, Father Ben. I’ll come back soon.”