Page 31 of For I Have Sinned

“Celine.” I introduce myself.

She hums in either satisfaction or disapproval. With a woman like her, it is hard to tell how she is feeling, and right when I think she is going to shoo me away, she says, “Very well, then.”

Father Alexander lets out a low breath. “Celine can help you most days after her lessons. Whatever you need her to do.”

I give him a skeptical look because I thought I’d only be helping out on my free days. Not after lessons, too. He doesn’t bother looking my way, which makes me huff and move my eyes back to the old woman.

“You can start by cleaning since you so rudely pointed out how dirty it is in here.” She picks up the pen and returns to her work. “There are supplies in the back closet.”

I have to wander around until I find it since she didn’t point in a specific direction. When I enter the closet, I hear Father Alexander step in behind me. I peek over my shoulder to see him eyeing some supplies on the shelf.

“What are you doing?” I ask cautiously.

“I was going to help you gather the cleaning supplies.”

“You don’t need to do that.” I turn around to face him and move closer so I can reach for a duster that is sitting on the shelf next to him. He takes an immediate step back, as if he doesn’t want me near him. “I can manage on my own.”

He dips his head in understanding. “Try not to speak like that to her again.”

“Or what?” I bend forward to grab a bucket off the bottom shelf and watch as his feet shuffle back to get further away from me.

“It’s not kind to speak to your elders with that type of tone.”

“That was my normal tone.” I drop the duster into the bucket and straighten myself. “Are you suggesting that I don’t speak to her at all?”

“No. Just be nice.” He takes another step back, leaving the closet, and points to his mouth. “And maybe smile.”

I keep my face straight because I hate it when people tell me what to do, especially when a man tells me to smile. “Just you wait. Greta is going to love me.”

“Sister Greta,” he corrects me with a stern voice.

I pause mid movement, the tone in his voice catching my attention. “I can’t call her by her first name only?”

“It is considered rude,” he informs me.

“So I wouldn’t be able to call you Alexander?” I question as I grab a container of Clorox wipes and place it in the bucket. “Or just Alex?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, as if he is irritated. “No.”

“Shame.” I fake a sigh. “Saying Father Alexander all the time is a mouthful. It would be nice to shorten it. What about Father Alex?”

“You’ll call me Father Alexander, Celine.” His voice is rough and dripping with authority. The amber of his eyes darkens for a brief second before changing back to normal with one blink. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting I need to get to.”

He turns and walks away without another word. My teeth clench together, and I breathe heavily out of my nose before I head back into the library.

Sister Greta is still sitting at her desk, writing things down while reading that giant book. She doesn’t acknowledge me, so I don’t bother her. I go into the first room Father Alexander brought me to, set the bucket down, grab the duster, and begin sweeping the cobwebs.

After an hour of clearing out webs in both the main library and Sister Gretas’ office, which took longer than expected due to the numerous amount, I go back into the closet to grab paper towels to clean off the duster.

When I come out, I toss the dirty towel into the trash can and stare at the window behind Sister Greta. It’s stuffy in here and too damn quiet. She hasn’t spoken one word to me in the past hour. Not like I expected her to.

“Can I open the window?” I break the silence.

“No.”

“It’s hot in here, and I can’t breathe.”

She inhales deeply to make a point. “I can breathe just fine.”