Page 42 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part 1

Mathilde inspects the room first. She walks it like she’s casing a safehouse, checking the corners, the closet, even the gap under the beds. For a hot second, I see myself in her, the way I used to search the asylum’s rooms for threats and escape routes. I get it.

Eliska circles the tiny space three times. When she finally stops, she sits on the edge of a bed like she’s ready to bolt. Lucia slinks in, looking like she wants to crawl beneath the bed.

So much fear. So much space where comfort should be.

I lean on the doorframe with my arms crossed.

“Girls, calm down,” I joke. “Don’t fight over the blankets, or I’ll have to bring in the water pistols.”

No response. Not even a twitch.

“Tough crowd.” I squeeze Tawny’s arm. “Why don’t you find a mattress and some snacks to make them feel comfortable?”

“But nothing tastes…” She trails off at my warning look. We don’t need another reminder of doom right now.

“Don’t you have a secret stash beneath your bed?”

A guilty look flashes over her face, but then she sighs and nods. “I also have spare cozy pajamas and pillows, too. Been hiding them from Raven.”

“I think there are a few extra blankets on the lounges in the common area downstairs.”

When Tawny goes, I try to calm the girls again for the third time.

“You’re safe here. You get to choose, okay? If you want to sleep all in one bed, you do that. If you want lights on, I’ll find a nightlight. If you want to keep the door open, fine. Whatever makes you feel okay.”

The fox is staring at me again. She studies my lips like she’s trying to read words I’m not saying.

“Are you staying close?” she asks, and her English is so crisp it gives me chills. “If something bad comes?”

I slide down and sit, ignoring the protest of my muscles and the zing of pain in my thighs. Today was not a normal day, and I should have taken the cilices off hours ago.

“How about I sit right here until you fall asleep?” I smile gently at the girls.

“All night?”

“I have a team meeting in a few minutes.” I glance down the corridor at my discarded lumpy pile of things. Where else am I going to sleep tonight … if I sleep at all. “I guess I could return. If you like.”

Mathilde tilts her head and gives a sharp nod. “Okay. You are the boss.”

The girls exchange glances. They believe me. For now.

I crawl into the room and help them haul both mattresses onto the floor, upturn the cots, and make an enormous sleeping cave beneath a blanket. We keep adding layers, building a fort of comfort, even if it’s pure theater.

Tawny returns and throws in a few more pillows, adding a few packets of Cheetos and bottles of water to the nightstand. I send her off to the archives and ask her to remind Jasmine on her way.

The official debrief needs to happen as soon as possible.

I turn back to my charges. Their faces are blank, but their hands are locked together, fingers tight.

Somewhere behind me, a door creaks open and slams again from down the hall. One by one, any Sinner left in her room exits and heads to the archives like a good little soldier. Even Jasmine.

“You girls good?” I ask.

No answer. But they move as a unit, scrambling deeper into the fort, pulling the covers over their heads, forming a single mound of silent, shivering nerves.

I remain there for a long minute, watching. Just watching.

“Locking you in for safety, ‘kay?” I whisper. “Until the meeting’s over.”