A Nun's Journey to Redemption

The quiet hum of machines and the sterile scent of disinfectant filled the hospital room. For two days and three nights, Maria lay motionless in her bed, her face pale, her body weak. Jack sat by her side most of the time, dutifully attending to her food, medicine, and clothing as Vincent had ordered. Despite his dislike for Vincent's control, Jack felt a growing sense of responsibility for Maria's well-being.

Every hour, he would check her pulse and adjust her blanket, hoping for any sign of recovery. The doctors reassured him that Maria would wake up soon, but the waiting gnawed at him.

---

On the third night, as the faint light of dawn began to filter through the hospital blinds, Maria stirred. Her fingers twitched slightly, and her eyelids fluttered open. Blinking against the light, she gazed at the unfamiliar ceiling, her mind foggy. Slowly, the events leading up to her collapse came rushing back.

"Maria!" Jack exclaimed softly, noticing her movement. Relief washed over his face. He stood quickly and leaned closer. "You're awake. Thank God."

Maria's voice was hoarse as she tried to speak. "Where...am I?"

"You're in the hospital," Jack said gently. "You lost a lot of blood, but you're going to be okay. I've been taking care of you."

Maria turned her head slightly, her eyes scanning the room. She didn't respond, but there was a flicker of recognition in her gaze.

"I need to let Vincent know," Jack added hesitantly. He didn't want to leave her alone, but Vincent had explicitly instructed him to inform him immediately if Maria regained consciousness.

---

Jack stepped outside the room and called Vincent. "Boss, she's awake," he said.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Vincent replied curtly and hung up.

Jack sighed and decided to use the time to buy some fresh medicine from the store. He didn't want to be around when Vincent arrived—partly out of fear of being questioned further and partly to give Maria some space from his intimidating presence.

---

Vincent entered the hospital room with his usual air of authority. He paused as he saw Maria lying on the bed, her fragile form propped up against the pillows. For the first time in his life, a twinge of something unfamiliar coursed through him—guilt.

He pulled a chair close to her bed and sat down. Maria turned her head slightly, her expression blank.

"Maria," Vincent began, his voice softer than usual. "I...I'm sorry."

Maria blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly. Vincent Apologizing? It was a concept so foreign that she couldn't fully process it.

"I know I've been harsh," Vincent continued, his tone awkward as if he wasn't used to admitting fault. "I've made mistakes. I pushed you too far. What happened to you—it wasn't right, and I take responsibility for it."

Maria stared at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't utter a word.

"I've arranged for another fashion show," Vincent said, quickly shifting topics. "It's in New York next month. Winter outfits. I want you to be there. You're one of the best models I've ever worked with, Maria. The show won't be the same without you."

Her silence was deafening. Vincent fidgeted uncomfortably, unaccustomed to being ignored.

"Say something," he demanded, his voice rising slightly.

Maria turned her head away, her gaze fixed on the window.

Vincent sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he muttered. "Think about it. But you'd better be ready by next month."

---

A soft knock on the door interrupted the tense atmosphere. Jack's voice came from the other side. "It's me, Jack."

"Not now," Vincent barked. "Wait outside."

Jack hesitated but didn't push further.

Vincent stood up and smoothed his jacket. "I have to go. Rest well, Maria." He walked to the door and opened it, finding Jack waiting in the hallway.

"How's she doing?" Jack asked.

"She's awake," Vincent replied curtly. "And she'll be fine. Now, about that night—how did you open the door to her room?"

Jack's heart skipped a beat. He had prepared for this question. "Boss, you gave me the keys last Saturday night," he said calmly. "You probably don't remember. You'd been drinking, and you handed them to me to check on her."

Vincent's eyes narrowed, studying Jack's face for any hint of a lie. After a tense moment, he gave a dismissive wave. "Fine. Just make sure you don't forget who's in charge here."

"Of course, boss," Jack replied, keeping his tone respectful.

"Go buy some fresh fruits for Maria," Vincent ordered. "She'll need them for her recovery."

Jack nodded and walked away, relieved to have dodged Vincent's suspicion for now.

---

Back in her room, Maria closed her eyes, trying to process everything. Vincent's apology, his sudden shift in tone, the lingering threat of his control—it all felt overwhelming.

A single thought echoed in her mind as she drifted into a restless sleep: How much longer can I endure this?

The battle for her freedom was far from over, but a spark of hope remained, fueled by Jack's unexpected kindness. For now, she would bide her time, waiting for the right moment to reclaim her life.