October 8th,
Not all battles are loud.
Some start with whispers.
With polite invitations laced in poison.
And doors that close just a little too softly.
***
I got the message right after class.
"Sandra Timothy, please come to the Fellowship Centre Office at 5 PM.
– President Stone"
I stared at it for a second. Not fear — just a ripple of unease. What had reached him? And how much had been twisted?
Tony looked over my shoulder and frowned. "You think he's buying into the rumors?"
"Guess I'll find out."
Later, the small fellowship office was still and sunlit when I walked in. President Stone sat behind the desk, his Bible open beside a notepad. His usual friendly smile was absent.
"Good afternoon, sir," I said.
He gestured to the chair across from him. "Sandra."
Silence stretched between us for a few seconds before he spoke.
"I've been hearing things. About your midnight activities. About a girl found half-dead. About confrontations. And… people calling you 'radical.'"
I inhaled deeply. "And what do you believe, sir?"
He leaned back, eyes sharp. "I believe in discernment. I believe in protecting the body of Christ. I believe in order. Sandra, what exactly are you doing?"
I told him. The dreams. The prayer walks. Mayumi's rescue. Darrey's intimidation.
When I finished, his face was unreadable.
Then, he spoke quietly. "I believe you. But others are watching now. And not all of them with the eyes of Christ."
Meanwhile…
***
Anita sat nervously on the edge of the office chair.
The lecturer smiled politely — but it didn't reach his eyes. He was the same one who had subtly mocked me in Creative Writing a week ago. His voice was slow. Measured.
"I've noticed your… closeness with Sandra. And the sudden spiritual energy surrounding you. Let me be blunt. Be careful."
Anita blinked. "Careful of what?"
He chuckled. "Influence. You're young. Impressionable. These things have a way of going too far. I've seen girls get obsessed with religion and end up mentally unstable."
She stared. "Are you suggesting we're crazy?"
He leaned forward. "I'm suggesting… that you're treading dangerous ground. And if you ever feel unsafe, I can help."
She walked out shaken. The air around the lecturer's office had felt cold. Not temperature-wise. Spiritually cold.
***
Back in our hostel lounge, Tony stared at his phone.
A message had appeared. From a strange number. No name. Just a verse.
"Arise, shine, for your light has come…"
Isaiah 60:1
No context. No reply.
He looked at me. "This is… the third time this has happened."
***
There are whispers behind doors.
Warnings. Probes. Spiritual tension.
But I'm learning:
When the enemy starts whispering…
It's because your light is getting louder.