Chapter XLIX: The Items
Liz wakes up to the scent of garlic sizzling in hot oil and the faint sound of water splashing. The house is already alive with movement. She stretches her arms, still feeling the weight of last night's dream. Her heart is heavy, but there's also a strange sense of clarity that lingers in her mind.
She makes her way downstairs, where her grandma is busy cooking breakfast. Dominga is scrubbing the bathroom tiles, humming softly to herself, while Dolores remains upstairs, still lost in sleep.
Liz takes her seat at the dining table, rubbing her sleepy eyes. "Buenos días," she greets them with a small smile.
Her grandma turns to her with a knowing look. "Hija, what's with the long face?" she asks, concern evident in her voice.
Liz hesitates for a moment before sighing. "I had a dream last night… but it didn't feel like just a dream. It was like I was transported to a different reality, a different version of my life."
Her grandma stops stirring the pot for a moment and turns to listen, her expression unreadable. Liz takes a deep breath and recounts everything—the decayed version of her house, the scornful looks from her aunts, the overwhelming debt, and the cruel, selfish version of herself. She tells them about the message Bennett left behind in that world, his plea for her to change, and how she felt an unbearable grief at the sight of what could have been.
After listening intently, her grandma places a gentle hand on hers. "What matters most, Liz, is the change you've already made. The past may be set in stone, but the future? That's still in your hands."
Liz nods, the warmth of her grandmother's words giving her a sense of peace. She eats her breakfast in silence, letting the words sink in.
As she makes her way to school, weaving through the busy-bustling streets of San Agustin, her mind continues to wander. What would have happened after what Bennett showed me? Does that Liz ever change? She grips the strap of her bag tightly, remembering the cruel, reckless girl she saw in that alternate world. I may have been reckless back then, but that version of me was heartless… and it scares me to think how far I could've fallen.
She absentmindedly touches the golden paper bag inside her bag—the one she had obtained from Bennett's room. It feels heavy, like it carries more than just an object but a burden of memories and promises.
As she approaches the school gates, she spots Wyn already waiting for her. "Took you long enough," Wyn teases, tossing a peanut into her mouth.
Liz lets out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I had a lot on my mind."
They walk together to their classroom, slipping into their seats just before the bell rings. The morning classes pass in a blur, Liz's thoughts occasionally drifting back to her dream. It isn't until break time that she finally decides to open up to Wyn about what happened.
Seated at their usual spot in the canteen, they munch on their snacks as Liz tells her about sneaking out of Bennett's house, about the unexpected encounter with Bolt, and how she had to carefully make her way back without getting caught.
Wyn listens intently before raising an eyebrow. "You sure you didn't leave any trails that might alarm his parents?"
Liz smirks, taking a sip of her juice. "Of course not. I was careful. No marks, no signs, nothing to make them suspicious."
Wyn leans back, looking relieved. "Good. You don't want to deal with that kind of mess right now."
Liz nods, but deep down, she knows that her real mess isn't about sneaking out—it's about the truth she has to uncover and the mission she has to complete. Whatever was inside that golden paper bag, and whatever fate had in store for her, she needed to be ready for it.
As Wyn and Liz sit together in their classroom, the golden paper bag rests on Liz's lap. Wyn eyes it curiously, her fingers tracing its delicate edges.
"Do you have any idea what's inside?" Wyn asks, her voice hushed with anticipation.
Liz shakes her head. "I don't know. But I feel like it's something important."
Carefully, they open the golden paper bag. Their hands tremble slightly as they pull out the contents. First, a silver necklace with a glass pendant emerges. Liz lifts it towards the light, and both girls gasp softly as they notice the dark crimson liquid inside. Inscribed on the pendant are the Latin words: Sanguis Christi—the Blood of Christ.
Next, Liz reaches inside and pulls out a rosary. The beads feel coarse against her fingers, and as she inspects it closer, she notices grains of desert sand encased in each bead—sand from Jerusalem.
Wyn rummages deeper into the bag and pulls out a small glass vial filled with a clear liquid. "Holy water," she murmurs, her voice carrying a reverence that matches the item's significance.
They find a letter next, its envelope aged and slightly worn. Liz carefully peels it open, and out falls a rustic bronze key. The key is cold to the touch, with an inscription carved onto its surface: Clavis ad sacellum—Key to the Chapel.
Their eyes widen as realization dawns upon them. "This is it," Liz whispers. "This could be our way inside."
Their excitement builds as they make their way towards the old chapel during their break, the golden paper bag securely in Liz's arms. As they reach the entrance, they stop in their tracks. The iron-bar gate still stands firm, barring their path. At that moment, the chapel bell chimes ominously, its sound reverberating through the air.
At lunch, they try again. Still locked.
Later that evening, Liz sits at her desk, staring at the key, worry gnawing at her heart. What if I can't see Bennett again? The thought lingers in her mind, pressing against her chest with unbearable weight.
Exhausted from her worries, she falls into an uneasy sleep. The moment her eyes close, she finds herself once again in Bennett's room.
He stands before her, his familiar presence offering comfort. "Liz," he says softly, "what's wrong?"
She meets his gaze, her voice trembling. "What if I never see you again?"
Bennett kneels in front of her, taking her hands in his. "Liz, it's okay. My time hasn't come yet. What they did to me might have been shocking, but I'm still here."
Liz grips his hands tighter. "But how long do we have?"
Bennett stands and exhales slowly before murmuring, "Three hundred sixteen days. Those are the days."
Liz frowns. "How many are left?"
Bennett closes his eyes, as if counting in his head. "I don't know the exact number, but when the time comes, you will see the sign."
Tears spill down Liz's cheeks as she throws her arms around him. "I don't want to lose you, Bennett! You're my everything."
He holds her close, his voice firm yet gentle. "Liz, use those items wisely. They will protect you. And remember, you also found something I didn't expect—a medieval sword hidden above the old organ."
Liz pulls back slightly, surprised. "A sword?"
Bennett nods. "Defend yourself with it. Be ready when the time comes to set me free from the chapel."
He places a hand on her shoulder. "The President of the Ministry has many followers—some who may seem ordinary but are not. They manipulate others, distorting the true essence of what it means to serve. That's why some Altar Servers no longer behave as they should."
Liz listens intently, hanging onto every word.
Bennett continues, his voice filled with conviction. "Being an Altar Server isn't about popularity or showing off how religious you are. It's about loving and serving the Lord with all your heart. Whether you're a lector, a choir member, an organist, an acolyte, or a server, the most important thing is your dedication to God."
Tears glisten in Liz's eyes. "You're right, Bennett. I understand now."
Bennett smiles at her, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Good. Now go. Be careful."
Liz cups his face and leans in, kissing him gently. "I love you, Bennett."
He returns the kiss, his arms wrapping around her in a tight embrace. "I love you too, Liz."
As the dream begins to fade, Bennett whispers, "Stay strong."
Liz wakes up with a tear-streaked face, her heart pounding with determination. The mission has only just begun.