"Give me the key, Taya."
Sister Perry's voice echoed through the chapel.
I closed my fingers around it.
"Why? What does it open?"
"That is none of your concern."
"Then why are you afraid of it?"
Her expression changed.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Behind her, Father Michael lowered his eyes, while Sister Catherine stood beside me, looking as though she regretted ever giving me the key.
I had spent my childhood obeying the rules of this orphanage. I had learned when to speak, when to remain silent, and when to pretend I hadn't noticed something strange.
But I was tired of pretending.
"I'm keeping it," I said.
Sister Perry stepped forward.
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
"Then tell me!"
She reached for my hand, but Sister Catherine intervened.
"That's enough, Sister Perry."
Their eyes met.
Something passed between them—something old and bitter.
Then Sister Perry stepped back.
"This is your responsibility now, Catherine."
She turned and left the chapel.
Father Michael followed without saying another word.
I watched them disappear before turning to my godmother.
"What is happening?"
Sister Catherine sighed.
"Go to your room, Taya. I'll explain when the time is right."
"When? When I'm old enough? When someone else disappears?"
Her face crumpled.
"Please, my child."
I wanted to argue, but the tears in her eyes stopped me.
I slipped the key into my pocket and left.
That evening, I searched the orphanage corridors, trying to remember every locked room I'd ever wondered about.
Then I remembered the old storage room where Aria had found the photograph.
There was a narrow wooden cabinet at the back, half-hidden behind broken chairs.
I'd never paid much attention to it.
Until now.
I returned after evening prayers and carefully examined its lock.
My hands trembled as I inserted the brass key.
It turned.
Inside lay a small envelope bearing my name.
TAYA ZARAH.
I opened it.
There was only one sheet of paper.
If you're reading this, then Sister Catherine has finally given you the key.
Beneath that sentence was a warning.
Whatever you do, don't believe everything your godmother tells you.
I read it twice.
Then I noticed the signature at the bottom.
Sister Perry.
A sound came from behind me.
I spun around.
Aria stood in the doorway.
Her eyes widened when she saw the letter.
"Taya," she whispered, "you weren't supposed to find that."
I held up the paper.
"How do you know about this?"
She said nothing.
Then she looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.
"Because I was the one who hid it."