Page 12 of Devotion

I’m so tired, I can’t take it anymore. My legs feel like they’re made of lead, fatigue settling in my bones with a heaviness that warns me I need to find rest, and soon.

I rub my arms as if to warm them, but it doesn’t help.

I look around the small back entrance and realize there’s no one there. The man’s probably checking his bread or something.

I walk quietly, as noiselessly as a bird, my heart pounding in my chest. I’m a bundle of nerves, but I’m used to feeling this way. After a while, you learn to lean into the adrenaline rush instead of fearing it or avoiding it.

I use that adrenaline to propel myself forward and fabricate a lie if I’m caught.

I thought this was the entrance to another place.

I’m so sorry, I thought this was a hotel.

Do I have the wrong address?

I don’t want to lie. Liars go to Hell, and I’ve already paved my entrance by abandoning the fellowship.

But I have to save Starla, and if the only way forward is lying, I’ll sacrifice even my own soul for her.

The closer I get, the more the scent of freshly baked bread and other delicious things accost my senses. The smell alone draws me in like Gretel to the witch’s house. My stomach aches, and before I know it, I’m inside.

The first thing I notice is that it’s warm in here. The second is that this place is elegant and rich, and I amwayout of my league.

I expect to find myself in some kind of a kitchen, but the kitchen’s a few doors down. I’m in a hallway of sorts. The carpet’s thick and plush beneath my feet and for one wild second I contemplate laying down right here in the dark corner where no one could see me.

Thankfully, I can pad noiselessly down the hall and find a place to hide.

I need a few hours. Just so I can rest and maybe find something to eat, and then I can be on my way.

My heart expands with hope when the fingers of sunrise filter through stained glass. Are we in a church? I almost laugh out loud. Those guys are most definitely not churchgoers.

I walk to the end of the hall as far as I can go, each room beckoning to me, tempting me with the sight of luxurious beds that look so comfortable I could cry. I find myself in one of the rooms. Extending a tentative finger, I touch the softest pillow and the most luxurious bedding I’ve ever felt. I spin around and stare at the doorway, half expecting someone to find me.

But I’m alone. For the first time in a decade… I’m alone.

I have mixed feelings about that.

I want to take in every detail of this room, but I don’t know how much time I have. Right now, I just need a little rest so I can leave before anyone finds me. I yawn so widely, my eyes water.

I’m used to ignoring the way my stomach aches when I’m hungry, and I know if I just wait it out, the hunger will pass anyway.

I kick off my worn shoes and push them under the bed. I lay my small bag of possessions beside me. Everything I own in the world now is in this bag. A sobering thought. I climb into bed and stifle a moan at the feel of the soft, welcoming bedding. I take off my glasses in a sort of stupor and lay them on the bedside table. My eyes are already closed. I offer up a little prayer in the only way I still can.

If you’re up there, please don’t let them find me.

I fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

When I open my eyes, the first thing I notice is that it’s bright outside. I sit up in a panic, because that means it’s midday, and if I haven’t gotten breakfast ready and done my morning chores, Seth will be furious.

I throw off the covers before I realize this isn’t my bed.

Wait.

Wait.

My heart beats so madly I’m a little nauseous.

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