Estella, on the other hand, still crippled by anxiety and alone inside the old abandoned house, forced herself to steady her breathing. She finally had the energy to think and check the room, and learn about the Eastwells.
The Eastwell family was wealthy, and she soon learned that they were also known for their generosity, often participating in charitable causes. Though they possessed no supernatural abilities, the Eastwells held a different kind of power—the influence of their voice. Well known among the poor, their words carried weight, and when they spoke, people listened.
Many people had gathered, drawn by the influence of the Eastwells. Because of their efforts, the area had begun to see growth and progress. Yet it was not sheer numbers or strength that held the shadows at bay—it was hope that weakened them and kept them from taking control.
As she carefully observed the room around her, her eyes caught sight of something that might finally be useful. Found a Bible used by the Eastwells, a book she's never read, but she has heard of, she opened and—a letter addressed to the family of Eastwell, the former owners of the abandoned house where she is hiding.
To the Family of Eastwell,
This is Rev. Leonardo Notrevoshk, your local minister. I write to inform you that these phenomena are not something beyond control. We know that we are saved from our sins by the Son of God for the afterlife, but our earthly actions still carry consequences here. We are not only in need of salvation from sin—we need salvation from ourselves.
If we wish to live, we must do this together.
Head toward the local hall located on Fluorescent Street. There, we have learned what it means to remain far from the shadows. We have gathered people—no longer strangers, but a family. You must become part of it before it is too late.
—Rev. Leonardo Notrevoshk
The minister had spent his entire life in service.
The old Leonardo Notrevoshk was a minister who possessed hidden supernatural powers—abilities he was aware of, yet did not fully understand. For reasons unknown even to him, the shadows seemed to recoil wherever he went, shrinking away as though afraid. Because of this strange phenomenon, those who stayed near him often found themselves unexpectedly safe, shielded by a presence he could neither explain nor control. Yet the question lingered: could he himself be something more—perhaps a being not entirely of this world? But he feared he no longer had enough time to learn the truth, and it was no longer his main concern. Now old and wrinkled, his only wish was to help people—guiding them out of misery while he still could.
Estella knew nothing about any of it. Desperate, she clung to the route described in the letter. She had found light—or at least the promise of it. The letter had been written long ago, and there was no guarantee the hall still stood, nor that anyone would still be there waiting.
But she would take her chance.
Even knowing the path would be harder than the darkness behind her, she chose to walk toward it—because sometimes, the light at the end of the tunnel is not certainty. Sometimes, it is faith.
Estella was too frightened to step outside again, still haunted by what had happened to her. She had not eaten, yet she forced herself to gather what little courage and strength she had left—there was no other choice. Searching for something to defend herself, she found a sharp object to carry for protection and wore dark clothes she found in the wardrobe.
She knew exactly where she needed to go. Although the letter described the path she was supposed to take, fear held her back from following it. Instead, she chose another route she knew well. She would find a boat and cross the lake, traveling by water rather than risking the journey on land toward the hall.
She paddled as fast as she could, driven by the desperate hope of reaching help.
Fortunately, Estella was too careful to cross the long land to the hall.
But when a bystander spotted her, the welcome she received was anything but warm. A net launcher suddenly aimed at her, and within seconds, the weighted net shot forward, wrapping tightly around her. She fell hard to the ground, struggling desperately to free herself.
Seeing the commotion, the Eastwell elders and the minister immediately ran toward her.
Leonardo Notrecoshk carefully assessed her, exchanging a glance with Dr. Eastwell. They both quickly understood—Estella was still purely human, her soul untouched and unstained.
With trembling breath and tearful eyes, she begged them to help her.
Dr. Eastwell leaned closer, studying her face in disbelief. "Estella?" he asked softly, recognition dawning in his eyes.
Estella cried like a frightened child, overwhelmed and confused by everything happening around her. She could not comprehend how Dr. Eastwell seemed to know her, and the question lingered in her mind, deepening her bewilderment.
It turned out that Dr. Eastwell had once been their family physician— one of the doctors who had cared for her mother and treated their family before. Estella had hardly outgrown her familiar features, making her easy for him to recognize at once. But she had been very young back then and did not recognize him.
...
Exhausted beyond her limits, Estella's strength finally gave out, and she fainted. She was brought inside the hall and carefully tended to. People from many different places gathered around, offering help where they could. As her eyes slowly began to close, a quiet sense of relief washed over her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she finally felt safe.
A man approached—Kevin Goelet. Once known as a troublemaker who had been jailed more than once, he had changed greatly over the years. Influenced by the Eastwells, he had grown into a respected leader, now overseeing the food supplies and the crops his family once cultivated solely for business—resources that were now generously shared with the community. Hearing about Estella's condition, he personally prepared a warm meal for her, hoping it would help restore some of her strength.