The dream always ended the same.
She was in a club, drowning in neon lights and music that shook her bones. But when she looked in the mirror behind the bar, she didn't see herself — she saw him. A man standing at a pulpit, eyes full of light, calling her name.
Ruby.
Not like a client. Not like a man wanting her body. He said her name like it mattered. Like she mattered.
---
Ruby jolted awake, her arms instinctively reaching out for the warmth beside her. But it was just the small body of her niece, Zoe, curled against her ribs. On the other side of the cramped mattress, Jayden — her 9-year-old nephew — snored softly, his arm slung over a ragged teddy bear.
She exhaled, brushing her tangled hair back.
"Same dream again?" she whispered into the air. No one answered.
It had been two weeks since her sister's funeral. Two weeks since she buried the only person who ever believed in her. Now she was a mother to two kids with no father, no income beyond the pole, and no clue how to survive this new reality.
And the dreams? They were the only part that felt holy.
🧥 Later That Morning...
She stood outside the church doors, trembling.
Ruby had never been inside a church before — not really. Maybe once as a child, when some outreach team handed her a hot dog and a flyer. But this one? It was huge. Marble steps. Gold-trimmed doors. Stained glass angels smiling like they knew her secrets.
She looked down at her outfit — a long, second-hand coat over a plain gray dress. No lashes. No heels. Just sneakers and borrowed courage.
Jayden looked up at her. "You said this place gives food after the singing, right?"
"Yeah, baby," she whispered. "And maybe something else too."
Hope. Forgiveness. A sign.
She didn't even know what she was looking for — only that the man from her dreams was real. She'd Googled "Pastor John" and nearly dropped her phone when his photo came up on the church's website.
It was him.
Zoe tugged her hand. "You okay, Mama Ruby?"
She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Yeah. Let's go find out if God really takes walk-ins."
They stepped inside — into warm light, beautiful music, and a row of curious, whispering eyes.
And at the end of the aisle, there he was.
The man from the dream.
Pastor John.
Frozen.
Looking at her like he'd seen a ghost.