Page 22 of For I Have Sinned

He held that same expression briefly when he found me in the courtyard. He thought I was going to run, and trust me, I wanted to. I wanted nothing more than to sneak out of that dining hall and book it toward the front doors.

But I didn’t. I had self-control.

It’s almost like he can sense me staring at him because his eyes meet mine as the nun continues to speak with him. Father Alexander’s face softens for a second as he looks at me, but then he quickly drops his eyes to focus on the woman beside him to continue their discussion.

When I come back to my little bubble, I find that I am standing alone. Sister Alice must have snuck away while I wasn’t paying attention. With a deep breath, I step into the room.

The walls are painted tan to match the lobby, and there are no windows. Two rows of desks occupy the room, and a small wooden podium stands at the front.

My eyes scan my surroundings and land on Joanna, who is sitting next to Bekah. They are already waving for me to come join them. I walk over to where they sit and take a seat at the desk behind Joanna. She doesn’t say anything to me, only smiles and spins back in her chair to face forward.

Swallowing hard, I look to my right and see Esther writing in a notebook. She pauses the motion of her pencil and glances at me. A slight smile tilts her lips upward, and it makes me feel relieved. Like she sees me for who I am.

“Good morning, ladies,” a woman at the front of the room introduces herself. “You all know who I am, but we do have someone new joining us.” All eyes fall on me, and it makes me want to disappear. “Celine, welcome. My name is Sister Ruth.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I straighten my back, not wanting to look afraid and offer a smile.

“There is a Bible on your desk. We have been discussing the Major Prophets for the past two weeks. Today, we will talk about Jeremiah.”

I slide the Bible in front of me, flipping through the pages even though I have no clue what page they start on. Do they even start on a specific page? I keep skimming through the thin paper until I see the name Jeremiah. When I do, I stop, not caring if it is the right page or not.

It’s light, but I hear a laugh come from my right. Peering over to the sound, Esther has an amused grin on her face, and I know it’s because of me. She must have been watching me struggle to find where they are in this damn book.

“Jeremiah was known as the weeping prophet,” Sister Ruth begins. “He was the prophet to the southern kingdom known as Judah…”

That’s as much as I hear before I block her out.

Listening to people talk about anything to do with religion will immediately make me lose interest. It’s how it’s always been, but it’s a skill I mastered. I could sit there and look as if I am taking in every word they are saying, like I’m fully focused on what is happening, but in my head, I’m thinking about other things.

More important things, like how I’m going to pretend that this experience will be life-changing for me. How in the world am I going to give the performance of my life for my parents? For these people that I’m surrounded by every day?

I feel a slight nudge on my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. When I blink and look up, Esther is standing by the desk, staring down at me. Sister Ruth must have already finished the lesson. It was either a short one, or I was dissociating for a while.

“Take a walk with me.” It’s not a question or a suggestion, and she doesn’t wait for my response.

She walks away from my desk and out of the room. Without thinking, I slide off the bench and follow her. The other women remain in the class to talk, and I swear I hear Joanna’s voice calling out my name to get me to stay, but I’d rather poke my eyes with forks than have to engage in a conversation with her.

Out in the hall, I find Esther waiting for me, and when I approach her, we fall into step together. I’m not sure where we are going, since I haven’t been to this part of the building. Which means I’m trusting someone I don’t know to lead me wherever we are headed. We continue to walk in silence, and when we can’t hear any of the others, she finally speaks.

“You don’t know how happy I am that you are here,” she says with a sigh of relief.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I know you don’t want to be here. It’s written all over your face, and the only reason I picked up on it is because I also don’t want to be here. Don’t worry, though, everyone else here is so blinded by their faith that they won’t notice.” She glances over at me with a small smile. “My dad made me come to the convent. He told me that the path I was walking down would lead to Hell.”

A breathy laugh escapes me as memories filter into my mind. “I’ve heard that one before. My parents tricked me into coming here. I thought they were just joining a new church. Turns out I signed my life away.”

“Yeah, I had no idea what I was signing either. It was bullshit.” She huffs.

I laugh again, because hearing her curse beneath the roof of a Godly place is comical.

“Joanna, unfortunately, took me under her wing shortly after I got here. She is like the pride and joy of the convent. I want to punch her in the face, but that would cause trouble that I don’t want to deal with right now, so I stay quiet.”

“Probably the best option.” We turn a corner, entering an unfamiliar corridor. “How long do you think you’ll be here?”

“I have no idea. What about you?”

“Until my parents see a change in me, I guess.”