Page 30 of For I Have Sinned

Celine

The lesson I had today was another boring one. Well, I’m sure it was fascinating to the others, but I escaped into my head again. I thought of anything and everything except where I was currently sitting. It hasn’t even been a full week of these classes, and I’m already sick of it.

How the hell am I supposed to keep doing this?

As I daydreamed, I thought about the job opportunity that I probably wouldn’t get. Catherine said that they’d wait for me when I return from vacation, but I don’t know when I’ll be getting out of here. Who knows how long they are willing to wait?

After feeling down about not getting my dream job back, I focused on Father Alexander and how I was to meet him so he could show me to the library. Not only do I not want to be here, but now I have to spend my free time helping a grumpy old lady?

I guess it can’t be that bad since I’d be surrounded by books. Even if they aren’t the type I read or edit for Monica when she was too busy to do it herself.

At least I’d be in my element.

Thanks to my daydreaming, the lesson goes by quickly, and when it’s over, I hurry out of the class to meet Father Alexander outside his office. I don’t have to wait long because as soon as I show up, he walks through the door.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I give a tight smile and follow behind him as we make our way.

I’m in complete awe as I step into the library. It is something out of a movie.

There are five shelves per bookshelf, which are lined against the stone wall. The shelves’ wood is a deep shade of brown that makes them appear almost black. My eyes roam over the many books, not able to count them all. I wasn’t expecting the library to be so nice.

It’s almost gothic-looking with the dark gray stone and dark colored shelves. On the back wall is a large window that floods the space with natural light. You probably would only need to turn on the gold chandeliers at night to illuminate the space.

Even on a stormy day, there would be enough light in here. The thought of seeing this beauty after the sun goes down makes me excited. Maybe helping out in the library won’t be too bad.

I step further into the room, my mouth open in amazement, and I’m so in my own head that I forget that Father Alexander is standing next to me.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His deep voice pulls me from my thoughts. All I do is nod. I don’t even glance over at him. “Sister Greta will be more towards the back, where her office is.”

I allow him to lead the way, following behind him with my hands clasped behind my back. Everything in here looks so old, I’m afraid that if I touch something, it will break or dissolve into dust.

We round a corner and enter a short hallway that leads to another part of the library. And here I thought all of the things I had just seen were old.

The shelves in this part aren’t wooden like the others. No, these shelves were carved into the stone. Old books line them, and when I get a closer look, I can see the dust coating the faded spines. As I inspect the books, I hear Father Alexander announce his arrival to Sister Greta, who responds with a grunt.

Turning to see a woman sitting at her desk, a large book open and a pen in her hand. Glasses sit on the center of her nose, but she doesn’t look up from her work.

“I’ve brought you a helper,” Father Alexander tells her.

“I don’t need a helper,” she says with a fire that I admire.

I glance around the space, taking in the dust and cobwebs that have collected throughout the years.

“It looks like you need help.”

Father Alexander’s head whips in my direction, his brows shooting up as his eyes go wide. In a way that he couldn’t believe that I just spoke to her that way.

I only spare him a glance before looking past him to where the old woman is sitting. My statement has caught her attention because she has stopped whatever she was working on. She stares at me over her glasses, inspecting me like a parasite.

“What makes you think you can talk to your elder like that?” Sister Greta scowls as she puts the pen down.

“I was merely stating a fact.” I don’t break eye contact with her. If I do, then she has the upper hand. “There are cobwebs in every corner of the room, on the chandeliers, and the shelves look like they have been collecting dust for over a hundred years.”

It is so quiet in here that you could hear a pin drop. I don’t even think I can hear Father Alexander breathing. It makes me think he is holding his breath as he listens to the interaction, awaiting something terrible to happen.

“What is your name, child?”