INT. EAST VAN – OUR LADY OF FATIMA CHURCH – EVENING
The sun sets behind the stained glass windows. Inside the quiet sanctuary, candles flicker. NELLY sits in the front pew, her head bowed. JOE walks in quietly and sits beside her.
JOE
(softly)
Do you want to be off the pharma drugs, Nelly?
She doesn’t answer right away. The silence hums between them like an unanswered prayer.
JOE (contโd)
I know people think it’s crazyโฆ talking to someone who isnโt โthere.โ But itโs not craziness. Not here. Not in this place.
NELLY
(whispers)
This is where I cameโฆ when I felt lost. I didn’t tell anyone.
JOE
This is Our Lady of Fatima. Sheโs more than just a statue. In Croatia, sheโs the Queen. The Queen of the whole country. Sheโs real to us. You can talk to her, Nelly. She listens.
NELLY
(tears welling)
I just wanted someone to see me. Not the fame. Not the brokenness. Justโฆ me.
JOE
She sees you. And I do too. The real you. Not the diagnosis. Not the prescription. Youโre more than what they label you.
NELLY
(pause)
And if I say yes? If I want off? What happens?
JOE
Then we walk. One step at a time. With Her. With music. With miracles. But not the pill kind. The real kind.
Nelly looks up at the statue of the Virgin Mary, her face bathed in golden candlelight.
NELLY
(quietly)
Okay. Yes. Please.
Joe gently takes her hand. A bell tolls in the distance. Something shifts in the air โ not a hallucination, but a presence.
FADE OUT.
