The Messenger( Iva) novel Chapter 378

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The Abbey

Two Months Later

The bells rang out across the quiet morning, their melodic chime echoing through the ancient stone walls of the abbey. The sound was gentle, almost soothing, a soft call to prayer that had

become as familiar as her own heartbeat.

Iva groaned, her body heavy and aching as she shifted in the narrow bed. The last few weeks had been a trial of endurance, her growing belly making every movement a laborious effort. Sleep had become a luxury, elusive and fleeting, stolen in brief fragments between the discomfort of her changing body and the restless turning of her mind.

She had barely slept last night.

She pressed her hand to her swollen belly, feeling the familiar flutter of movement within. The little one was active, as always, a constant reminder of the life growing inside her.

“Good morning to you too,” she whispered, her voice soft with a mixture of exhaustion and

affection. “A little more, and finally I will hold you in my arms.”

The words brought a smile to her face, despite everything. Despite the circumstances of his conception. Despite the fear and uncertainty that had plagued her since she fled. She had always seen this child as innocent, blameless, a tiny soul who deserved love and protection.

She would give him that. No matter what.

A second bell rang, sharper and more insistent. The call to morning prayers was ending, and the nuns would soon be making their way to the dining hall.

Iva forced herself to sit up, her body protesting every movement. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, her hand bracing against the wall for support. She washed her face quickly, pulling her hair back into a simple bun, and dressed in the plain clothes that Sister Ornella had given her.

She made her way through the quiet corridors, her footsteps echoing against the worn stone floors. The abbey was ancient, its walls steeped in centuries of prayer and devotion. It had become her sanctuary, her refuge, her home.

Sister Ornella was waiting for her at the entrance to the dining hall. The old nun’s face was lined with kindness, her eyes warm with a motherly affection that made Iva’s heart ache.

“Good morning, child,” Sister Ornella said, her voice gentle. “Did you sleep well?”

Iva smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The Abbey

“As well as I can,” she admitted. “The little one is very active.”

Sister Ornella chuckled, her hand reaching out to pat Iva’s belly.

“He is eager to meet the world,” she said. “Soon, child. Soon.”

*25 Put

Iva nodded, her throat tight with gratitude. She had been so lost on that highway, so broken and desperate, when the minibus full of nuns had stopped. One look in her direction, and they had taken pity on her. They had taken her in, offered her shelter and food, asked no questions.

They had saved her life.

She moved into the dining hall, her hands busy preparing the tables. She placed the bread and morning oats with practiced efficiency, her movements automatic. This was her contribution-the small tasks that helped ease her burden on the community. Preparing food. Tidying things. Cleaning. She tried offering the little money she had, but was refused.

It was simple work, but it gave her purpose.

Soon, the nuns would finish their prayers and come for breakfast. The hall would fill with their quiet chatter and gentle laughter, the warmth of their community wrapping around her like a blanket.

Iva paused, her hand resting on her belly.

She had found a place here, a place of peace and acceptance. And for now, that was enough.

The dining hall was alive with the gentle warmth of community.

Iva moved among the long wooden tables, refilling cups of tea and gathering empty bowls. The nuns chatted softly among themselves, their voices a comforting murmur that filled the space like sunlight. Sister Agnese, a plump woman with rosy cheeks and a perpetual smile, reached out and patted Iva’s hand as she passed.

“Rest, child,” she said, her voice thick with a maternal tenderness. “You are carrying a precious burden. Let us handle the work.”

Iva smiled, touched by the concern but unwilling to sit idle.

“I’m fine, Sister,” she assured her. “The little one and are strong. We want to help.”

Sister Agnese’s eyes crinkled with warmth.

“Stubborn as a mule,” she said, shaking her head. “Just like my sister Marie. She never knew when to rest either.”

The other nuns chuckled, their laughter a gentle chorus that seemed to ease the ache in Iva’s back.

Abbey

The pain had been bothering her since yesterday, a dull, persistent throb that she had been trying to ignore. But she refused to let it slow her down.

She had found something precious here-a simple life, free from politics and pressure. No, expectations. No demands. Just the quiet rhythm of daily tasks and the warmth of community.