As days passed, the radio presenter continued to ask for the rosary's return, each broadcast chipping away at Maria's resolve. Each time she heard the plea, Maria immediately turned off the radio. With the rosary in her hand, it felt as though it had become a part of her, something inexplicably tied to her.
Feeling a pang of guilt, she glanced up at the cross hanging on the wall. "I'm just cleaning it so that I can give it to Max to return it, and say it was him who found it," she rationalized aloud, the words a weak reassurance to herself. She remembered overhearing the two women mention how Max was a familiar face in Stuwerviertel. "I'll tell him not to mention my name. I thought it would be rude to return the rosary all dirty."
Satisfied with her plan, Maria placed the rosary gently in her pocket. Seeking some fresh air, she stepped out of her room and wandered into the courtyard. The garden's tranquility and the soft blue of the sky offered a much-needed sense of calm. Yet her restlessness persisted, prompting her to venture further outside the convent walls.
As she strolled through the bustling streets, she observed the flurry of life around her—people hurrying by, vendors calling out their wares, children laughing in the distance. Suddenly, she spotted a familiar figure amidst the crowd, his unmistakable gait and warm demeanor catching her attention.
What a coincidence, she thought, surprised but pleased. She had intended to see him soon but hadn't expected their paths to cross so serendipitously. Smiling, she raised her hand in a wave.
"Fraulein Maria!" Max called out, his face lighting up as he approached her. "How have you been?"
"I'm great. Thank you for asking, Max. How was your quest in finding talents for the festival?"
"Well, I'm still looking for one that's deserving enough. Are you sure you don't want your choir to join in?" Max teased with a grin.
Maria smiled softly and shook her head. "I'm sure, Max. They aren't ready to sing in public, especially the little ones. They are still quite shy, you know?"
Max chuckled, his laughter light and easy. "Alright, I won't push it. And how are you? I've heard about what happened in Stuwerviertel. It was quite chaotic from what I've been told, but I'm glad you look alright."
Maria faltered, her hands instinctively brushing over her skirt pocket where the rosary rested. The weight of it felt heavier than it should. "I'm glad too," she managed, forcing her voice to sound steady. "No one was harmed when it happened."
Max studied her for a moment, his gaze kind but searching, as if he could sense the unspoken weight she carried. "That's good," he said at last, nodding. "If you need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to reach out to me. You can trust me, Fraulein."
Maria's heart sank further at his sincerity, guilt creeping into her chest. "Thank you, Max," she said quietly, offering him a faint smile.
"Anyway," Max added, glancing at his watch, "I have to go. See you around."
"Goodbye, Max," Maria said, raising a hand to wave but with much less enthusiasm than before. She watched as he disappeared into the crowd, her fingers brushing against the rosary in her pocket.
Running back to her room after her conversation with Max, Maria shut the door behind her and leaned against it, her chest rising and falling as her thoughts swirled in a frenzy. She began pacing back and forth, her steps quick and frantic.
"Oh, I should've given him the rosary," she muttered, wringing her hands. "But I didn't know if it was right."
She stopped abruptly, turning her gaze toward the cross hanging on the wall. Its quiet presence seemed to urge her to reflect.
"I know he doesn't think too well of me," she continued, her voice rising slightly, "but to return it without saying a word? It's like going against Mother's words." She folded her arms, her mind echoing Mother Abbess' teachings. "She said that we shouldn't turn our back on our problems—we have to face them! And didn't Jesus face the devil himself?"
She stepped closer to the cross, her voice softening as if speaking directly to it. "You know what? I'm going to return the rosary in person, and I wouldn't accept the money! Even though..." Her voice faltered as she glanced at the small purse on her table. "Even though the choir needs it," she finished, almost in a whisper.
Maria began walking around the room slowly, her thoughts gaining clarity. "Going to that place... What is of God cannot mix with what is of the devil." She stopped mid-step, lifting her chin with a newfound resolve. "If I return it in person, I will have the opportunity to bring the word of God to him. Yes." She nodded to herself, her conviction growing stronger.
Maria moved to her desk and pulled out the rosary in her pocket. Now clean from dirt, each bead seemed to glisten under her care, as though it, too, sought renewal. She smiled faintly, a glimmer of warmth crossing her face. "If he is seeking, then I must help him find," she said softly, the words feeling both bold and inevitable.
Her gaze lingered on the cross again, this time filled with resolve. "Perhaps this is why I found it," she murmured. "Not to judge, but to guide. Not to condemn, but to show him that grace is still within reach."
She laid the rosary down on her desk, a sense of calm washing over her. Tomorrow, she will take the first step. Whether it was fate or coincidence that had brought this into her life, Maria felt certain that her role in this story was just beginning.
⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻
The chatter of the crowd filled the air, blending with the faint hum of music in the background. Georg scanned the room, weaving through the bustling space until his eyes landed on a familiar face. Lillian sat at a table near the stage, her expression one of eager anticipation.
As Georg approached, she glanced up and was visibly surprised. "Georg!" she exclaimed, her eyebrows rising. "I didn't think you'd actually be here."
Georg smirked as he took the seat next to her. "Why wouldn't I? I wouldn't miss Daniela's performance for the world. It's all she's talked about for days."
Lilian laughed lightly, shaking her head. "You're full of surprises today. First, you're here. And now this—" She gestured to him. "You seem... different. Happier. Almost like a completely different person from this morning."
Georg shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "What can I say? I'm happy. A lot's going to change in my life soon, Lilian. Just wait. You'll see."
Lilian raised a curious brow at him but didn't press further. Before she could say more, the lights dimmed slightly, signaling the start of the show. She tapped Georg's arm, pointing to the stage. "Look, it's starting! Daniela's about to perform."
Georg turned his gaze toward the stage as the room grew quieter in anticipation. The opening notes of a melody began to play, drawing the audience's attention completely.
Just then, a hulking figure approached their table. Without a word, Big Boy settled into the empty chair on the other side of Lilian. His presence was as commanding as ever, his broad frame and calm demeanor a stark contrast to the animated crowd around him.
The spotlight fell on Daniela, and the crowd erupted into applause as she stepped forward. The soft notes of Daniela's performance filled the air, but Georg leaned closer to Lillian, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you know anyone named Jakob?"
Lilian furrowed her brows, glancing at him curiously. "Jakob? Who's that?"
Georg straightened slightly, glancing toward the stage as if to distract from the weight of his words. "He's a man whose mother was... let's just say she was a famed clairvoyant around Stuwerviertel."
Lilian tilted her head, her intrigue growing. "His mother? I might've heard about her before, but I don't think I know Jakob."
Georg sighed, then leaned in closer, his tone more conspiratorial. "Keep this between us, alright? I don't want any more gossip about me."
Lilian raised a brow. "Wait—are you telling me you went to a clairvoyant?"
He shrugged, his gaze shifting to avoid her piercing look. "Well, it was her son. The mother's been gone a long time, but Jakob inherited her gift. Or so he claims."
Before Lilian could respond, Big Boy grumbled from Lilian's other side, his focus drifting to the stage. "Daniela's put on weight," he muttered, his tone a mix of disinterest and criticism. His eyes scanned the room. "And look at these people—half of them look like they'd rather be anywhere else."
One of Daniela's friends, sitting a table over, caught his words and immediately shot back. "She looks wonderful, and she's giving a great performance! Some of us are actually enjoying it."
Big Boy rolled his eyes but didn't bother to argue further. Instead, he turned his attention to Georg and Lilian, his face unimpressed. "This whole thing is mediocre at best."
Lilian ignored him, turning back to Georg. Her curiosity burned. "So, what did the clairvoyant tell you?"
Georg hesitated for a moment, then said, "He told me I'll find the woman destined for me soon."
Lilian let out a loud, high-pitched scream that made everyone at the table jump, including Big Boy, who nearly spilled his drink.
"Would you keep it down?" Big Boy hissed, throwing them both an annoyed look.
Georg chuckled, clearly amused by the commotion.
Lilian, recovering from her excitement, wrapped her arms around Georg in a warm hug. "I'm so happy for you, Georg! You deserve the best, truly."
Georg smiled, a mix of gratitude and humor in his eyes, as the sound of Daniela's performance continued in the background, weaving a strange but memorable night together.