Weeks passed in the blink of an eye, yet one thing continued to trouble me—Uncle James and Ruth never attended church on Sundays.
Every single week, the pattern was the same. Ruth would fall sick—either two days before Sunday, the day before, or on the morning of. But what disturbed me most was that Uncle James didn't seem to notice that it was only Sundays when Ruth fell ill. I though she was grieved by Grandma's death but now,I know she is faking it to avoid church.
Today was no different.
I stood in front of Uncle James' door and knocked.
"Uncle James, I'm already dressed. I'm waiting for you downstairs," I said, though I already knew how this would end. It was either Ruth would throw up, look pale, or shiver from cold.
I waited for nearly five minutes, but there was no sign of him coming out.
Frustrated, I knocked again. This time, he finally opened the door. Inside, Ruth lay on the bed, shivering under the covers.
"Ruth isn't well. I'll have to stay home today too. Send my regards to Pastor Andrew," Uncle James said.
I nodded without another word and left for church.
***
The church service ended successfully, but just as I was about to leave, I heard someone call my name.
"Anaya, wait."
I turned to see Pastor Andrew approaching with a serious expression.
"Where's your uncle?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. "The church members are starting to grow restless. He's the head pastor, Anaya. It's been weeks now, and I'm worried."
I looked away, unsure of what to say. Even though I lived with Uncle James, it wasn't my place to discuss his affairs.
Pastor Andrew studied me for a moment before exhaling. "Let's go together. I want to see him."
I nodded, and we left.
***
The ride home was quiet. I plugged in my pods, letting worship music fill my ears, but my mind remained unsettled.
When we arrived, the house was eerily quiet. I stepped inside and called out.
"Uncle James, I'm back. You have a visitor."
A few moments later, he emerged from his room. His face was unshaven, and he looked worn out.
Pastor Andrew took a seat on the sofa, and Uncle James joined him. Without saying a word, I went to the kitchen to get them water. I could still hear their conversation in the kitchen.
"Now, James, tell me," Pastor Andrew began. "Why haven't you been coming to church? It's been a month since anyone saw you there."
Uncle James sighed heavily but said nothing.
Pastor Andrew continued, his voice laced with concern. "You're the head pastor, James. If you don't realize it, let me tell you—the church members are beginning to suspect something has happened to you."
Uncle James exhaled and finally spoke. "It's my daughter. She's been falling sick often—especially on Sundays. As her father, I have to take care of her."
Pastor Andrew frowned. "Then why haven't you taken her to the hospital?"
"She's scared of hospitals, and her sicknesses aren't serious enough for that," Uncle James replied.
Pastor Andrew leaned forward. "Where is she now? Bring her over so I can pray for her."
I smiled inwardly. But Uncle James took the request differently.
"Do you think I can't take care of my own daughter?" he snapped.
"Of course, I know you can," Pastor Andrew said calmly. "I just want to help."
Uncle James crossed his arms. "She went out to buy groceries. She'll be back soon."
Pastor Andrew stilled.
"She… went out?" he repeated.
"Yes," Uncle James confirmed.
A long silence filled the room before Pastor Andrew spoke again, his voice lower this time.
"James, don't you think it's strange that your daughter—who was supposedly too sick to attend church—had the strength to go out shopping?"
Uncle James stiffened.
Pastor Andrew looked at his old friend, his expression shifting from concern to something deeper. "I'm your friend, James. But something isn't right in this household. You say Ruth is sick, yet she's well enough to go out? Your spiritual life is slipping away, and you don't even see it. Please, let me help you get on the right track."
A low chuckle escaped Uncle James' lips. It grew into a bitter laugh.
"Get me on the right track"? he scoffed. "Andrew, I built that church before you ever became my co-pastor. And you think you can help rekindle my light when yours isn't even shining?"
Pastor Andrew's face fell.
Uncle James shook his head. "You're supposed to understand me. Stand in for me. But instead, you came here preaching." His expression hardened. "You know what? Keep the church. I'm done. I'm not interested anymore."
He stood abruptly.
"Leave."
Pastor Andrew sat in stunned silence as Uncle James walked away.
At the same time, Ruth walked in with groceries in both hands. She walked in and politely greeted Pastor Andrew before going to the kitchen with a happy gleam in her eyes.
It wasn't long before Pastor Andrew saw Ruth and everything, including her presence , which was terrifyingly dark.
He frowned and left.