The Anglic Gene

An orphan girl unsure of who she is or why a man wants her dead carries a secret. She will experience humanity.

Are you ready?

Join Sophia in a heart thumping adventure across England set in the 1870’s, exploring faith, doubt, love and fear. A story, quoted by the editor as “really something special”, you’ll continue to contemplate long after the journey unfolds


46. Possible

1879 - 1 year later

Michael slipped into the chair across from Mendel who was sitting at his desk.

“Well, Michael,” Mendel said, sealing an envelope, “do we have any news on Anne’s whereabouts?”

“You mean Sophia—on Sophia’s whereabouts.”

“Ah, yes,” Mendel said. “I keep forgetting that she changed her name in honor of her mother and sister.”

“Indeed. I believe her mother’s engraved gold bracelet was the tipping point.”

“Right. Good work in finding that.” Mendel adjusted his glasses to rest higher on his nose.

Michael nodded. “In the lost property bin in St Thomas Hospital, of all places.”

“Anyway, back on topic. Have you heard from her, Michael?”

“No. Only rumors and whispers.”

“Such as?”

“She is creating a bit of a legend for herself.” Michael rubbed the back of his neck. “The saying goes that Sophia, perched high up on the top of church spires, listens to the night for screams. On hearing a cry, she goes to the person’s aid, so everyone’s guardian angel is only a call away. She stalks the Shadows, feeds the hungry, and cares for the lonely.”

“Has anyone actually seen her?”

“There are many reports of people saying they saw a girl with raven-black hair and emerald green eyes. None are verifiable.”

“Seems she picked up on her stealthy training from the Order of Esdras quite well.”

“She did, indeed.” Michael rubbed his chin, reflecting on his own experiences with the Esdras.

“Just as well with the Bobbies still looking for her. We got the charges against you dropped but were not able to get hers dropped. From everything that happened, did you ever find out if she carries the Angelic Gene like her sister?”

“No,” Michael said, shaking his head. “I never saw her do anything that would confirm she does. But you know what?”


“While she may not carry an Angelic Gene she certainly has an angelic heart.”

Mendel smiled. “From your reports, I would certainly agree.”

“Did I tell you the last thing she said to me in person? She had one heartfelt idea.”

“What’s that?”

Michael thought back to his last meeting with Sophia, who was still known as Anne at the time.

* * *

Michael climbed the last rung of the ladder onto the roof of the St Mary Abbots church in London. He stepped onto the roof and crawled up the angled shingling. “You are lucky I’m not scared of heights,” Michael said, glancing towards Anne. She sat on the apex of the roof, perched like an eagle ready to take flight. Her black hair contrasted with her pale complexion and glinted with soft moon glow. The pupils of her emerald green eyes reflected the glittering stars. Her lips were not smiling, nor sad. A mixture of hope and pain. An arresting look.

“Beautiful night,” Anne replied.

Michael seated himself on the roof’s apex next to her. “I have something for you.” After reaching into his pocket, he held out a golden bracelet in his hand.

Her eyes widened as she accepted the gift.

“It was your mother’s,” Michael said.

“It is beautiful,” she said, reading the inscription Sophia. She wiped a forming tear from her eye.

“Your mother’s and sister’s name.”

“I’ve been thinking,” she said.

“About what?”

“About changing my name from Anne to Sophia in honor of them.”

Michael nodded. He saw no problem with the idea. There were no official records to change, and only a handful of people called her Anne.

She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. “Then it’s decided. From now on, please call me Sophia.”

“Okay, I will.” He paused for a second, smiled, and then continued, “Sophia.” His heart warmed saying the name as it brought back many fond memories of the two girls he had come to love as family.

Anne slid the silver bracelet off her arm. She then unclipped the crucifix charm. “I want you to have this,” she said, holding out the cross.

Michael gazed at it. “But … Are you sure?”

“Yes, very. You never know, one day the cross may help you to find me. Like a bond between us or something.”

“Thank you,” he said, squinting at her, accepting the gracious gift. “I’ll take very good care of it.” He placed the cross into a pocket on the inside of his monk’s robe. “Do you miss her?”

“You want to hear the strangest thing?”


“She came to me in a dream, said she had made the decision to go home. To be with God.”

“That is not strange.”

“She went on to give me the impression that God created her for the purpose of protecting me so we could defeat Mephis together. And once the task was accomplished, she would return home.”

“I see. That is a little strange. But I guess each of us truly does have a purpose in life.”

Anne scraped on the shingles with her fingernails. “She said that Mendel was right: God does not sit idly by when his world is in distress.”

Michael cocked his head, nodded slowly.

“She introduced me to Jesus.” Anne paused, wiping a second tear from her eye. “She was like an angel to me.”

“To both of us.”

“You know what?” Anne said.

“No.” He shook his head. “What?”

“When I die, if possible,” she paused, taking in a deep breath. “I want to continue the fight against the Shadows and answer the screams of children in the night.” She clutched the crucifix around her neck.

“Go on,” Michael said, watching her captivating emerald green eyes refract the moonlight in the night sky as she gazed towards the heavens. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“I’m going to pass on Heaven and become an angel instead.”


The End

“For with God nothing shall be impossible” – Luke 1:37 (KJV)

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