In the fall of 1980, four nuns from a small village vanished without a clue, casting their devoted community into a haze of sorrow and uneasy rumors

Sister Therese, Deputy Williams was saying, his voice professional but kind, we’re going to get you medical attention right away. Can you tell me if there’s anyone else down here with you? The woman’s gaze shifted to a dark corner of the chamber where the camera’s light had not yet reached. Beatrice, she whispered, but she’s gone to God now.

Many years ago. The camera panned to reveal what appeared to be human remains, a skeleton lying on a similar mattress, partially covered with a tattered blanket. We need the medical team down here immediately, Williams said into his radio, his voice tight with controlled emotion, and notify the forensic unit that we have human remains as well.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Father Elias bolted from the car, ignoring Harold’s protests. He ran toward the police perimeter where an officer attempted to intercept him. Please, Father Elias begged, that’s my sister they’ve found.

I’m Father Elias Moreau. She’s been missing for 28 years. I must see her.

The officer, recognizing the name from the earlier briefing, spoke into his radio. After a brief consultation, he escorted Father Elias through the perimeter to where the forensic team and paramedics were preparing to enter the tunnel. Wait here, Father, the officer instructed.

They’ll be bringing her out soon. Time seemed to stretch as Father Elias waited, alternately praying and attempting to process the reality of what was happening. After what felt like an eternity, activity at the shed entrance increased.

Officers emerged, followed by paramedics carefully carrying a stretcher. On it lay Sister Terese, so thin and fragile she barely made an outline beneath the blanket covering her. As they passed where Father Elias stood, her head turned slightly, and their eyes met.

Despite the ravages of time and suffering, he recognized his sister in those eyes, eyes that had once sparkled with youthful devotion, now wells of unfathomable experience. Her lips moved, and though no sound emerged, Father Elias could read the words she formed, God never left me. As the paramedics rushed her toward the waiting ambulance, another group emerged from the shed, carrying a body bag, the remains of Sister Beatrice, Father Elias presumed.

The sight sent a new wave of grief through him, tempered by the miracle of his sister’s survival. In the midst of the activity, he spotted Silas Redwood being led away in handcuffs, the man’s earlier arrogance replaced by a sullen, defeated expression. As Redwood passed where Father Elias stood, he suddenly lunged forward and spat directly at the priest, the spittle landing on his cheek.

Proud of yourself, Father! Redwood snarled before officers yanked him back. Father Elias wiped his face calmly, his voice steady as he replied, I count it for joy that I have suffered just like my Lord. As Redwood was led away, Father Elias overheard fragments of conversation between officers discussing what they had found.

One mentioned the discovery of a second set of skeletal remains in another chamber, speculating it might be the remains of Sister Beatrice, who had been roughly the same age as Terese when she disappeared. Harold appeared at Father Elias’ side, having followed at a more cautious pace. The ambulance is ready to leave, he said gently.

We should follow them to the hospital. Father Elias nodded, his heart too full for words. Together they returned to Harold’s car and followed the ambulance as it sped away from Silas Redwood’s property, sirens wailing, carrying the miraculous survivor of a twenty-eight-year nightmare toward the light of freedom at last.

The lights of the emergency room entrance cast harsh shadows across the ambulance bay as the paramedics wheeled Sister Terese through the sliding doors. Father Elias and Harold had arrived moments behind them, parking hastily and rushing toward the entrance, only to be intercepted by hospital staff. I’m sorry, Father, a nurse said firmly but compassionately.

You can’t go with her right now. The medical team needs space to work. She’s in extremely fragile condition.

I understand, Father Elias replied, though every fiber of his being yearned to stay by his sister’s side. But I am her only living family. She’s been missing for twenty-eight years…