Page 36 of Property of Quake

“She’s not answering,” Sister Beatrice says unnecessarily.

“No, she’s not,” I confirm.

“Maybe she’s asleep,” Whitney suggests.

I huff out a breath. “I don’t care if she’s on her goddamn death bed. When you’re responsible for the safety of children, you make yourself available or pass the baton.”

“Quake,” Whitney admonishes.

“I tend to agree with him,” Sister Beatrice says, surprising me. “Which is why I’m comfortable asking this favor.”

“What favor, Sister?” I ask.

She rises and walks around the desk to stand in front of Melissa. “Child, do you feel safe here?” she asks.

Melissa shakes her head just as the building creaks like old buildings tend to do. The noise startles her, and she whimpers.

“Would you feel safe somewhere else?” she continues, and Melissa seems to think about it for a moment before nodding. “Does Quake scare you?” Melissa looks at me and shakes her head again. Sister Beatrice straightens. “Then it’s settled.”

“Uh, what’s settled, Sister?” I ask.

“Whitney and Melissa will go with you tonight. I’m passing the baton.”

Whitney shoots to her feet, and my jaw drops.

“What?” we blurt simultaneously.

“It’s the perfect solution,” the elder nun says, beaming.

“You want them to come stay at the clubhouse?” I ask, certain I’m misunderstanding something. I’m not opposed to the idea at all… just confused that she’s the one suggesting it.

“I do.”

“It’s a motorcycle clubhouse,” Whitney says.

“And she’s a nun,” I add.

“I’m aware,” Sister Beatrice says. “But this isn’t about either of you. It’s about Melissa, and we need to do what will make her feel safe, right?”

“Is that appropriate for a child?” Whitney asks.

“Is whatever happened to precipitate this little pow-wow appropriate for a child?” she counters and stares at me. “Will you let any harm come to either of them?”

Damn, she’s good.

“Fuck no.”

She nods. “That settles that.”

“This is absurd,” Whitney states.

Before Sister Beatrice can argue further, Melissa stands and grabs Whitney’s hand as if desperate for her attention.

“Please,” she whispers. “I want to go but not without you.”

My heart cracks at the words. She doesn’t care where she goes or where she sleeps as long as Whitney is with her. She might not be afraid of me, but it’s Whitney she trusts to keep her safe.

One emotion after another flits across Whitney’s face. Surprise, worry, uncertainty… acceptance. She glances at Sister Beatrice one last time as if seeking permission.