Chapter 1:

"At some point this evening, Mrs. Dowling will arrive," the head of the church recites. Her smile is mischievous, her body twitchy with giddy excitement. "She will undoubtedly have Secret Service agents with her. You are all to ensure that they see nothing untoward."

She moves on to explain everyone's roles during the process. While everyone's sharing her excited smiles, there's one that feels her heart contract. She slowly lifts her hand into the air, hesitant to ask.

"Sister Mary Loquacious?"

With a small, nervous smile, the aforementioned Sister spoke. "Yes, excuse me, Mother Superior, I was wondering where the other baby was going to come from?"

Ophelia barely conceals a giggle. She almost loses the fight as Sister Mary continues to stutter through her question. However, that moment of happiness is torn away from her quickly. Mother Superior grows a sharp look as she finishes off her orders. Sadly, Ophelia's given the job of taking care of the boy that is to be replaced. The idea of 'sending' a boy off and away from his birth parents makes her sick. She hates being the one to ruin the innocent boy's future.

Shaking away those thoughts, Ophelia stands within the hall with Sister Mary, who is prepping biscuits with the pink frosting. Ophelia only feels slightly bad for what happens to that woman daily, but on the other half, the woman is a bit dense. Exhausting a sigh, Ophelia moves forward to help Sister Mary with the food. Besides, she can use a snack.

Everything was going just fine, and the biscuits were ready to be served within minutes. Considering all they had to do was get them down from the top shelf; an annoyingly inconvenient placement.

With nothing else to do, the two separate and decide to wander around the church. Anything that ever steps foot within the church looks lavish in many of the same ways. The large paintings of Christ; the warnings of demons; even many about futuristic people that are created within the bible. Cliche, honestly. Ophelia doesn't mind though; the thought of something so simple but so precious gives her a better glimpse of the future. After all, what else can someone wish for in life? Ophelia has never wanted a luxurious life; she just wants sweet and simple.

Mrs. Dowling's screaming brings Ophelia back to the situation. The rush of the moment presses down on her chest and she has to lean against the closest wall to force herself to breathe once more. Holding her head in her palms, she listens to the commotion around her, waiting for the moment she's called in to remove the child. Every second pushes further down on her and she collapses to the floor. She spends the precious moments catching her breath before one of her Sisters appears.

"Sister Ophelia, the transition is ready. Get yourself off the floor!"

Ophelia immediately obeys, speeding with Mother Superior to room 4. As soon as she reaches the doors, another Sister walks out- holding the ambassador's son. She conceals her tears, trying her hardest to ignore the swelling bump within her throat. Taking the cart away from Sister, Ophelia slowly treks through the halls. Her eyes are locked on the baby. Unlike everyone else, Ophelia doesn't feel happy or proud of what just conspired. She feels awful; like the world is squishing her in a sea of guilt.

She's drowning by the time she reaches the nursery room. She freezes for a moment, unsure of what to do from there. She knows what her orders are, but for once both her head and her heart are agreeing with each other - and they both plead to save the boy. Exhaling smoke of regret, Ophelia slowly leans down and picks up the squirming child. Miraculously, the child immediately calms. A grin spreads across Ophelia's face, even as tears make a running path on her cheekbones. She can't do this; she knows she can't.

"Well, what's your name, sweetie?" Ophelia coos to the small boy.

The baby gurgles back, and Ophelia's heart swells. She's going to save this baby, no matter what it takes. Holding the child closer to her heart, she continues to grin down at him.

"You know what? I'm gonna name you, Aaron. My little Aaron Everette," Ophelia cheers quietly. She doesn't want someone walking in on her, though that won't change her mind. It would be a simple inconvenience.

Discreetly, Ophelia makes her way to the closest baby check-up. She quickly weighs and tests him for any illnesses and only leaves when he's clean, blanketed, and perfectly healthy. Smiling, Ophelia travels through the halls once more. She notices Mrs. Dowling leaving with her son's replacement, along with her Sisters. She watches from the corner as her Sisters are confronted by a demon. Something's going horrifically wrong, and Aaron can tell. He starts squirming and whaling within her grasp, and Ophelia knows it' s time to skedaddle.

Scurrying towards the back door, Ophelia shrieks when a bolt of lightning shoots through the ceiling right in front of her. Fire greets her once the bolt disappears. Ophelia shrieks again, backing away with her arms protecting Aaron from the nasty flames. She turns to run the other way but another bolt blocks the front door. Panic starts to set in, an iron door getting closer to her heart the more the fire spreads. She clutches her eyes shut to try and silence her fellow Sisters' shrieks. A sob escapes her lips when she hears Aaron's strangled cry.

Snapping her eyes open, Ophelia bounds down the corridor. She cradles Aaron close to her chest and curls over him, using her body to protect him as she tries to dodge all of the lightning that strikes the floor. Right as she's about to bound out the last exit within the building, lightning crashes down. The flames guard the final exit and Ophiela's world starts to spin. The smoke clogs her lungs like cotton that crowds an ocean. She starts choking, her knees almost buckling as she tries to hold her ground.

She feels everything is over, bound to end in ash and dust. Until she looks into Aaron's eyes. The boy is crying, but not as much as one should when their death is gaining nearer every second. No, Aaron's gaze is locked on Ophelia and his tears act as if they are only directed to her. Even as a baby, Aaron gained the idea that nothing matters as long as the people around him are safe. Ophelia feels another sob rip at her throat but she keeps it back, much like the words she forces away when someone pushes her buttons one too many times.

Steeling her nerves, Ophelia slowly lifts her body from the ground. The lightning strikes are gaining speed and proximity every time she doesn't move. She closes her doubts behind screwed doors and curls her body around Aaron even further. Using her cloak as extra protection, Ophelia backs up only two steps. Taking one last glance at the bundle of blankets in her arms, Ophelia sprints forward. Through the rising fire, she feels her sweat mix with blood as the heat sizzles her skin. She grimaces, a scream escaping as she continues to push herself.

By the time her bloodied form rams into the door, she's losing her grip. It isn't any surprise when her body hits the floor; little Aaron still protectively sealed within her hug.