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“Sister Ivy,” I say weakly as she hauls me through the hallways of the old building. “I wasn’t doing anything. I promise. I was really feeling unwell. I’m sorry I missed prayer. Please, it won’t happen again.”
“Feeling repentant, Miss Stewart?” she sneers. “I’m sure Ms. Moore will want to hear how sorry you are.”
“Come on,” I groan as we get to her office, and she knocks on the dark wooden door. “Please…”
But there’s no pleading left to do when Moore calls us in. The ancient wood creaks as we come in, like the door of an old jail cell. Torture chamber is more like it.
“Ms. Moore,” Sister Ivy says sweetly. “As you know, Miss Stewart did not attend evening prayer. I found her in bed,” she gulps before she can say her next words, “t-touching herself.”
From behind her desk, Moore sits back on her chair and crosses her arms. She presses her lips together, observing me, her gaze going up and down my body. “Is that so?”
“I wasn’t touching myself. It’s just that I wasn’t feeling well,” I repeat for the third time tonight. This time, the lie tastes bitter from the fear making its way up my throat.
Why didn’t I just go to prayer? I could have zoned out and thought of Hayes there, without getting in trouble for it.
But then you couldn’t have touched yourself to him.
“Thank you, Sister Ivy,” Moore says, her eyes not leaving me. “You may leave.”
The moment the door shuts, my heart sinks to my stomach.
I hate being here. I know whatever happens, it’ll hurt.
“It’s a sin to masturbate, Miss Stewart.” Her voice is a warning that sends chills down my spine.
Standing behind the chairs that are in front of her desk, I hold onto the back of one. “I-I know.”
“Sexual pleasure is sacred and only permitted between a man and a woman in a marital relationship. God gave you a body to worship, not to indulge in mortal sins.”
I lick my lips, thinking of the other mortal sin I committed today with Hayes. “I know,” I whisper, not quite finding my voice.
“You know I must punish you now. I must have you repent for your sin.”
“Ms. Moore.” I take in a shaky breath. “I didn’t do what I’m being accused of.”
“We both know you’re a little liar. Now go to the corner of the room and grab the bar above your head.”
“Please, Ms. Moore.” My legs shake as I take a step back. “Please, I didn’t…”
“You will not speak until I address you again. Now do as I said.”
I eye the metal bar drilled between the two walls at the corner of the room, just behind her desk.
Aware I’ve lost this battle, I walk over there, trying to catch my breath as fear drains me of my energy. Knowing what comes next, I face the corner and grab the bar above me. It’s so high that I’m forced to go on my toes.
“I will be gentler if you admit to your sin, Miss Stewart. However, if I have to hurt you to get you to confess, then punish you for it, the session will last longer.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again when I feel her coming toward me. From the corner of my eyes, I see her grabbing the cane she keeps against the wall.
“I…”
A swish sound breaks the air before my lower back sets on fire. I shriek, my muscles tensing.
“This is a warning to think twice before you answer.”
“I’m sorry,” I squeak past my tight throat. “I’m sorry I touched myself.”
She chuckles darkly behind me. “I knew it.”
