Page 16 of Sin Eater

Presumably accustomed to intervening on an ad hoc basis, most of the audience punctuate the priest's words with exclamations that resound like thunderclaps under the vaulted ceiling.

Although attentive, Believ tenses up as the ceremony drags on. I don't want to get her into trouble, so despite the boredom, I make sure I remain invisible, imagining the panic my presence might generate. These people are convinced of the existence of their God, yet He doesn't grace them with His presence, unlike me. It’s a strange paradox that makes me smile.

Tired of standing next to Believ, I fly over the congregation, then explore the nooks and crannies of the church. To imagine that men were able to build this edifice impresses me, so massive and precisely assembled are the ashlars. As for the organ, I can't imagine the patience it took to build and install it above the entrance.

I slip into one of the pipes, curious to discover what's behind the scenes, and provoke a long whistle that cuts through the building. Surprised by this interruption, silence falls like a blanket over the assembly, who stare at the instrument in amazement, while Believ gives me an annoyed look.

I can't say I've been very discreet in this instance.

After long seconds of silence, and faced with the absence of a culprit, the priest returns to his sermon dedicated entirely to God. Despite the Sin Eater's hopes, not a word is spoken for my eulogy, not even a hint of regret at my tragic demise. Either nobody knows what happened to me, or nobody cares.

When this hypocritical torture finally comes to an end, the church empties. Believ slips through the congregation but is intercepted by the priest, who greets his parishioners one by one.

“Thank you for coming to express your faith with us during your time off, miss,” he graces her, flashing her a smile as he grabs her hand.

How does he know so much? Has the old man already reported our presence? That didn't take long!

Believ gives him a discreet lift of the chin in return, before being approached by our informer.

“You came! Did you enjoy the service?”

“Absolutely! Thank you for your invitation.” She feigns amiability while inwardly, panic overcomes her.

“Sir Jones is still inside,” he tells her, pointing to the building whose foyer is gradually emptying.

Indeed, the manor's owner is waiting impatiently at the altar, while the priest joins him in a hurry.

I leave Believ with her new friend and slip in past her, hoping to overhear their apparently agitated exchange.

“Morgue... complicated...” begins Sir Jones, apparently concerned.

“Not normal... problem!”

“Discreet...”

“Incomprehensible!”

Despite their attempts to whisper, their voices linger on certain words, which come to me in a senseless jumble. Paralyzed by these revelations, which make me think it's me they're talking about, I'm unable to move closer to grasp any more.

“We've got to find a solution—and fast!” snaps the priest in a ridiculous flourish.

My situation is interfering with their plans, to say the least, but what exactly do they know? Do they imagine for a moment that I'm still alive? That despite having been stripped of my envelope, my spirit resists?

Feverishly, I join Believ, still in the clutches of the old man.

“Your friend didn't come after all,” he insists.

“He had an accident on the road,” she lies. “So I visit him and tell him about my discoveries to help him pass the time in the hospital.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“I have to go. I have a visit coming up. Thanks again for your time!”

Without waiting for an answer, she jogs off to her motorcycle and leaves the city center for a less busy alley.

When she stops, I appear in front of her.

“Where were you? The old man almost toasted me!”

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