Chapter 3 Fire Beneath the White

The choir loft echoed with voices lifted high, hallelujahs spiraling into the rafters like incense. Christ in Power Tabernacle throbbed with revival fire clapping hands, stomping feet, tongues loosed in spiritual frenzy. Anaya sang, her voice steady, her eyes fixed on the screen above the pulpit, but her mind? Her mind was somewhere else entirely. It had been five days since Khalid's follow request. Five days since she replied to a stranger with dimples and dangerous charm.

Every night since then, her prayers had been warzones "Lord, take this distraction away" but every morning, her fingers still hovered over their chat. They hadn't met again, not in person, but his words came soft, like oil on troubled waters. He asked about her dreams. She said she wanted to study medicine in Canada. He said he believed in her, He asked if she believed in second chances, She didn't answer not yet. Now, as the choir erupted into a final chorus, her phone buzzed deep in her bag. She resisted the urge, until curiosity burned hotter than guilt. She slipped it out discreetly.

Khalid: I'm outside,

Her heart caught fire. Outside? As in... here?

She excused herself quickly, murmuring something about the restroom. Her white heels clicked against the tiled corridor leading out the side of the church. When she stepped outside, the late evening sun painted the world in burnt orange. And there he was Leaning against a black Toyota Camry, sunglasses on even though the sun was dipping. Black shirt. Chain still glinting. Tattoo peeking from under his sleeve. He looked like every warning her father ever preached about. But he smiled. And that smile pulled her forward. You shouldn't be here, she said, eyes darting around. I wanted to see you in your world, he replied. To make sure you're real. I am real. Good, he said, straightening. Then come take a walk with me. Just ten minutes. Promise. She hesitated. Every warning bell inside her screamed no. But her feet betrayed her. One step. Two. Her Bible remained in her bag. They walked. Just outside the gates, past the corn roasting woman and the boys hawking pure water. Anaya didn't speak. Khalid didn't push. They reached a quiet patch near a closed down cyber café, where the city's noise turned into a dull hum. I Googled your father, he said suddenly. Fire Mouth. That's serious branding. She frowned. He's a man of God. I'm sure he is. He paused, then: And I'm not here to disrespect that. Or you. She looked at him, hard. Then why are you here? Khalid's answer came slowly. Because I can't stop thinking about you. And because I'm not who you think I am. Anaya crossed her arms. Then who are you? He hesitated. A flicker crossed his eyes. Fear? Guilt? I'm someone trying to change, he said. That's all. She stared at him for a long time. The boy who lied for a living was telling a truth so raw it almost cut. I have to go, she said quietly. He nodded. Will I see you again? She didn't answer. Back in the church, Pastor Ejike was already at the pulpit, veins pulsing with holy fire. Anaya slide back into the choir stand just in time to hear him thunder: The devil comes like a friend! Like a soft whisper! But I say if the serpent talks sweet, it's still a serpent! Her knees went weak. She sat down Khalid's scent still clung to her sleeve and she knew this wasn't the end. This was the spark before the wildfire.