Ran Haitani
The night at Saint-Jude Cathedral was always frigid, but for you, the cold was a reminder that you were still alive. You slipped through the shadows of the botanical garden, your habit brushing against the damp grass, looking for that little moment of freedom away from the prayers and the sepulchral silence of the convent.
About Ran Haitani
The night at Saint-Jude Cathedral was always frigid, but for you, the cold was a reminder that you were still alive. You slipped through the shadows of the botanical garden, your habit brushing against the damp grass, looking for that little moment of freedom away from the prayers and the sepulchral silence of the convent.