Page 42 of House of Sin
After the service, I couldn’t shake the sense of satisfaction, but something darker gnawed at me too. It was her look, calm and unblinking. Bernadette hadn’t flinched. Not once. There hadn’t been any fear in her eyes, only a chilling stillness, as if she’d already accepted my unspoken wager. A war not yet named had been declared between us, and her gazewas thesignature. I headed into the sacristy, my thoughts still swirling. I was so sure of myself, so certain that I had done the right thing. I didn’t hear Father Cyrus’s approach until he spoke.
“That was a very bold sermon today, Father Frederick.”
I stiffened, turning to face him. He stood there, his expression unreadable, his prying eyes cutting through me. “Thank you, Father,” I said, keeping my voice steady, a nervous edge beneath the calm exterior. “I felt the message needed to be delivered.”
Father Cyrus stepped closer, his tone becoming more serious. “You need to be careful. These people, Father Frederick, they don’t take kindly to judgment. Especially when it’s as pointed as that.”
I swallowed, forcing myself to remain composed. “I was simply speaking the truth, Father. The temptation, the sin, it’s here, in front of us. It has to be addressed.”
He sighed and crossed his arms, studying me. “You’ve made your point, but you may have done it the wrong way. People here may have their flaws, but they’re a community. They don’t need damnationevery week, and most certainly not the kind that singles out people who are already marginalized, like Bernadette.”
I bristled at his words. “But, Father Cyrus, they are sinners. And I’m here to save them.”
His expression softened, but there was a warning in his eyes. “You’re not here to save anyone, Father Frederick, you’re here to guide them. You need to lead them gently back onto the path. Forcing repentance doesn’t work.”
I nodded, but the frustration in me burned. “I understand, Father. I’ll take it under consideration.”
Father Cyrus gave me a long look, his eyes filled with a strange blend of pity and concern. “Good. Just remember, it’s not about punishing people for their sins. Sometimes, redemption comes through kindness, not condemnation.”
I nodded stiffly, unsure whether I agreed with him. Maybe he was too old, too complacent with the world’s sins. I had a mission, and I would see it through. When he left, I stood there for a moment, alone in the sacristy. The echo of his words danced in my mind, but they couldn’t drown out the fire thatburned inside me. I had seen it, the sin that tainted this town. I had felt it, and I wasn’t going to let it slip away unpunished. I would save them all.
And as I looked at the closed door Father Cyrus had just walked through, I could feel the darkness in me growing stronger. Iwasn’t done, not by a long shot.
26
THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY RUDE
Sunday evenings were ours. A ritual of setting the world aside, of loosening our grip on the worries we carried, of remembering, if only for a few hours, how to be gentle with each other.
But tonight was different.
Tonight, even the silencehad teeth.
The usual conversation and laughter still rang through the room, but it sounded thinner, more brittle now. The morning service at St. Ann’s had left its mark, and Father Frederick . . . it wasn’t just what he said, it was the way he looked at Violet, like she was something he could swallow whole. A slow, creeping chill traced its way down my spine. I tried to shake it off, but the image had already rooted itself deep inside me.
Beside Elona, Maeve sat with her usual poise noticeably dimmed, her body angled just slightly inward and guarded. The easy banter that so often came from her was gone tonight, replaced by silence and a tension held tight in her shoulders. Across from them, Nell remained still and watchful, her eyes moving from face to face, her mouth drawn into a tight line that gave nothing away. At the far end of the table, Emil wore his usual mask of calm composure, but there was a keenness to his gaze now, like he was quietly cataloging every shift in tone, every glance, every pause.
And then there was Violet. She looked like a ghost of herself, caught in some private storm, her eyes distant and unfocused. Her fingers traced the rim ofher glass in slow, mindless circles, like it was the only thing anchoring her to the room.
The silence pressed in until I felt trapped in my own skin, the tension almost unbearable. Without thinking, I let my wineglass dangle between my fingers, as I shattered the quiet. “Well, it’s awfully somber in here, don’t you think?” I said, tone teasing, though it felt like I was throwing a match into dry grass.
Maeve’s eyes ignited with a fierce spark, her jaw tightening before she leaned forward. “Aye, no wonder we’re all as still as statues. Hard to be joyous when that blasted priest practically set us ablaze in front of the whole bloody town. Not a soul left here with a lick of peace in their heart.”
Elona gave a dark laugh. “He’s lucky we were in a house of God, surrounded by witnesses.” She sat back in her chair, arms crossed tight, brows arched. “That collar of his wouldn’t have saved him otherwise.” A soft chorus of agreement moved through the room.
Then Violet spoke. “He called us temptations.” She wasn’t looking at any of us. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, knuckles pale. “Said we were the rot in the orchard. That if men strayed, it wasuswho ledthem.” She paused. “I’ve spent half my life trying to be good,” she continued. “Trying to be small. Clean. Quiet. And still, somehow ... that wasn’t enough. Still, he looked at us like we were filth.”
Nell reached over and laid a firm hand on Violet’s arm. “He’s a coward, Violet. A man too weak to look at his own sins, so he throws ’em at women like stones.”
Violet’s eyes darted to hers, then met mine. “I know,” she said. “I think I’m just trying to figure out what’s worse, the sermon, or the man giving it.”
Emil shifted in his seat, the motion subtle, his eyes fixed on the center of the table as though careful not to look at any of us while he gathered his thoughts. “Well,” he said. “It’s hard to take lessons on damnation from a man who’s never seen the devil, only imagined him in women like you.”
I took a slow sip of my wine, the cool liquid doing little to settle the uneasy flutter in my chest. I didn’t share Emil’s point of view; I wasn’t so sure Father Frederick had never met the devil. In fact, I was starting to think he’d been in close contact with him, and he’d brought a little piece of that darknesswith him into this town. I forced a smile, though it didn’t feel right. I could see Violet slipping farther away, lost somewhere beyond my reach. I glanced at her again, watching her fingers trace her glass. “Well,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “He certainly made an impression, just not the kind that leaves you feeling inspired.”
“He didn’t just preach,” Violet said, her voice tighter now. “It was the way he looked at me. Like he was ...measuringme. Weighing what he could get away with.”
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach as she continued.
