The old mill by the river had been abandoned for years.
The roof sagged like a tired back, and the walls were swallowed by ivy. It used to grind Maplewood's grain — now it ground people's secrets.
The night I went there, the fog hung low and thick, curling around the trees like it wanted to keep me from turning back. The only sound was the river rushing nearby — a constant, restless murmur, like it too carried guilt.
I told Rebecca I was going to meet a man about work.
It wasn't the first lie. And I knew it wouldn't be the last.
When I reached the mill, I saw her standing near the broken waterwheel — the same woman from the church. No veil this time. Her face was pale in the moonlight, sharp features softened only by a faint smile.
She looked… ordinary.
And that made her even more terrifying.
"You came," she said simply.
Her voice was calm — too calm, like someone reading a prayer over a grave.
"I shouldn't have," I replied. My boots crunched on the damp ground. "But I need to understand what exactly you're offering."
Her smile deepened slightly. "Honesty. I like that."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a small envelope. It was thick, sealed in red wax. "Inside is a name. A family. They live in Chicago. They've been waiting for a long time."
I hesitated before taking it. "And what are they waiting for?"
"A child," she said. "Your child."
I looked down at the envelope as if it burned.
"You don't even know us. Why are you doing this?"
She turned her gaze toward the river, the water catching in her eyes like silver. "Let's just say… I help people make hard choices. I've seen too many lives ruined because fear made them wait too long."
She looked back at me. "You're trying to protect her, aren't you? Rebecca?"
Her knowing my fiancée's name made my chest tighten. "You stay away from her."
"Relax," she said softly. "No one in Maplewood will hear a word from me. My part is simple — I introduce you to someone who can take care of everything. Discretion, travel, money."
"Money," I repeated bitterly. "So that's what this is all about."
"Don't insult yourself," she said, tilting her head. "You wouldn't be here if it wasn't about money. You wouldn't be desperate enough to consider this."
I looked away, ashamed.
She was right — again.
"Why us?" I asked finally. "You could find others."
Her smile faded. "Because not everyone is brave enough to face the truth of their situation. Most drown in guilt before they can act. You — you're still trying to convince yourself this is noble."
Her words hit like stones.
I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that I was doing this to protect Rebecca from shame, to give the baby a chance — but every time I said it in my mind, it sounded smaller, emptier.
"So what happens if we agree?" I asked.
"You'll meet the family's lawyer," she said. "He handles everything. Once the child is born, you'll deliver it quietly. You'll get the money, enough to leave Maplewood forever."
I stared at the ground, my breath misting in the cold air. "And if we don't?"
She smiled again, soft and thin. "Then I'll assume you found a better way to face your sin. But trust me, Daniel—" she stepped closer, her perfume faint but suffocating, "—the longer you wait, the fewer choices you'll have."
The river roared beside us, louder now, almost angry.
I shoved the envelope into my coat and turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.
"One more thing," she said. "If Rebecca asks where the idea came from… tell her it was yours. She trusts you, not me. Don't break that."
Her words echoed as I walked away.
The fog closed behind me, swallowing the mill, the woman, and the sound of the river.
When I reached the road back to town, I pulled the envelope out and stared at it under the moonlight.
For a moment, I thought of throwing it into the water.
But I didn't.
Because deep down, I already knew — the decision had been made long before tonight.
This was just the confirmation.
And as the church bell tolled faintly in the distance, I felt something shift inside me.
Not peace.
Not relief.
Just the quiet, heavy weight of a man who had shaken hands with the devil and tried to call it salvation.