CHAPTER ONE: THE CHURCH GIRL
Chloe Anderson, a vibrant young lady believed in miracles.
She was born on a humid July night in Mississippi, in USA, the only child of a tailor.
Her father, Me. Greg Anderson, was a gentle man with large hands and a soft laugh. He also believed so much in God.
He used to lift her onto his shoulders and say, "My Angelic Chloe, you will serve God with utmost fulfillment and joy."
When he suddenly died out of illness during her year in high school, Chloe's Childhood ended quietly. Laughter reduced. Something inside of her Shifted, But her faith—her faith was greatly intensified.
She thought to herself, "If earthly fathers could leave, then she decided to cling to her Heavenly Father.
At the age of 20, Chloe Anderson had become the heartbeat of Jesus Never Fails Church Inc, a fast-growing Pentecostal church that is tucked between two busy streets in town. The church building was modest—creamy walls, plastic chairs, red carpet worn thin in places—but as long as Chloe was concerned, it was a sacred ground.
She was extremely punctual and arrived before most members every Sunday morning.
She orderly arranged hymnbooks.
She cleaned and polished the pulpit.
She test - run microphones for the choir.
She served wholeheartedly not because anyone asked her to, but because she had a mindset that serving made her feel seen by God.
In church, she was not the only girl who lost her father.
She was not the struggling daughter of a widowed seamstress.
She was Dedicated.
She was "Sis. Chloe".
Very faithful.
Reliable.
Honest.
Anointed.
Committed.
Chloe's voice was Heavenly. Her voice—clear and bright—floated above the congregation every Sunday morning. When she sang worship songs, her eyes closed tightly, her hands lifted, as though she could physically touch heaven.
And then, perhaps that was where it all began—the belief that her devotion guaranteed divine reward.
She consciously believed her Services and her obedience was building a future.
She believed heaven was taking notes.
And then PascalDaniels, a well- built, Tall, Dark - Skinned young man in his late 20s, started staying back after rehearsals.
Pascal seemed to be different from the other young men in the Church.
He was Brilliantly - disciplined. Structured. Intentional.
He always wore neatly ironed shirts and carried a leather-bound Bible filled with sticky notes. He constantly led the Wednesday Bible study group and often preached about purpose, holiness, and destiny.
Women admired him quietly. Mothers noticed him loudly.
On a fateful day, after Sunday Service, Pascal Daniels, first complimented Chloe's angelic voice, she blushed so hard that she avoided him for few days.
"I really admire your heart for God," he told her one evening as they walked out of church together. "It's rare."
The echo of that sentence lived in her chest for weeks.
Their courtship, if it could be called that, was careful. They did not hold hands in public. They prayed together under the mango tree behind the church. They shared scripture references through text messages.
Pascal spoke often of building a home rooted in the love of Christ.
Miriam listened with shining eyes.
He once said to her, "Chloe, I see you beside me in ministry," Chloe's heart sealed itself around that vision.
She started fasting for their future.
She imagined their wedding—simple, holy, blessed.
She imagined standing beside him at the altar, not just as a bride, but as a co-laborer in God's vineyard.
She believed that her waiting season was over.
She did not know it was only the beginning.