Page 58 of Anchored to the Storm

There was brand new landscaping, and the church had recently been repainted white.

How appropriate, you dark fucker.

Beyond a newly paved parking lot, there was another memorial for Blue. Flowers, cards, stuffed animals, and candles sat in piles around the lawn in front of the wide stone steps. There was also a beautiful, large, framed picture of Blue. My heart seized at her precious smile and those sweet purple glasses, but then it lit on fire when I noticed the pastor standing by the massive wooden doors at the entrance. He waved at people as they approached, shaking hands, and acting like this wasn’t a fucking mockery.

How am I not going to kill him right in front of Dale and Harmony? I peered around the van. All Misfits’ eyes were locked on him like the Sinners we had become. How am I going to keep any of us from killing him? As soon as this pastor spewed false sorrow, he was as good as dead.

Sebastian’s hands were opening and closing as he contemplated going after him with his bare hands. Fuck the consequences.

Holy shit. This was a bad idea.

Once out of the parked van, Harmony took hold of Sarah’s hand as Dale led them through a crowd. That was a good thing because Sebastian, eyes locked on the pastor, had stopped moving.

Completely.

Finn whispered to Ethan and me, “He’s concrete.”

I got up behind Seb and said into his ear, “Remember what Dale said. Tonight is about Blue. That asshole’s time is coming.”

Ethan sounded sinister as fuck. “If you see tonight through, I’ll steal you that pic of her, brother.”

That did the trick. Seb’s feet began to move again. I’m glad because Dale was peering over the crowd and watching us like a hawk. When our eyes met, he looked at me like, What happened to sticking together?

I grimaced. Sorry?

Watching people enter the church, the outpouring of love felt bittersweet because people cared. They came here for Blue. Only she mattered tonight.

Candles were passed into our hands as we entered the building, standing near the side because there wasn’t any place left to sit. I spotted Dale sitting in a long row with Harmony and Sarah.

Both women were staring straight ahead, and I nearly jolted when I saw what caught their eyes. It was a stunning original rendition of the portrait outside. Whoever created this artwork had captured her in such a way that I would swear she had known her personally. Not only was Blue represented as the adorable teenage girl she was, but this artist also captured the pain hidden in those sapphire eyes. Blue’s expression held a smile that could own any heart; still, those who were blessed to have known her while she was alive could easily recognize how this artist revealed the angelic force that had always been within her. Not including the angel wings now behind Blue, sheltering her from a life that had been far too cruel.

In the corner of my eye, I caught Seb’s finger rise and point. I watched him hold that stance as he looked to Ethan.

Ethan, his eyes watering, nodded, making it clear he understood that was the portrait to steal.

Was it robbing the artist? Possibly. Not that our broken hearts cared. Seb was going home with that perfection to guard. That’s how intensely we reacted when that fucking pastor took to the podium, blowing kisses to the painting.

As Seb took a step forward, Finn rested a firm hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Not the time.”

I thought it was going to work, but as soon as the pastor started speaking sickeningly sweet words about Blue—a girl in his community—and acting like she wasn’t his goddamn daughter, Finn corralled us through part of the crowd and out a side door that led into a hallway. He then took our unlit candles and placed them on a ledge. “Breathe, Misfits.”

Did we all stop breathing? I think we had. And it was hard to change that fact.

In the hallway, not far from us, there was a woman sitting on a bench. Her gaze seemed unfocused. If I hadn’t ever seen her on Blue’s phone, I never would have known who she was. But staring at her now, in a baggy dress and smeared makeup, I could see the resemblance. The petite frame and delicate features. Even the same pert nose and hair color.

But Blue’s mother… looked fucking high.

After all the promises to keep Blue safe and stay clean, this woman had lost the battle after her daughter’s death.

Observing all our locked stares, Finn now guided us from the hallway and into a nearby room. Grumbling, “I’m starting to think coming here was a mistake,” while shutting the door behind us. That is, until we saw a bunch of choir boys staring at us. “Uh… hi?”

Not even time to react further, the door reopened and a man squeezed past us. “More volunteers to be with the pastor?”

As if this man was serving us to the pastor on a perverted platter, we all recoiled. What the fuck?

“You’re late!” the man insisted, not shying from his irritation. Ushering robed boys out of the room, he handed us clothed hangers. “Hurry up! Don’t make him look bad!”

As the man whisked boys into a line in the hallway, Finn tried, “No, there’s been a mistake⁠—”