Page 35 of Sinful

She swallowed hard and turned away. “I told you, women cannot leave, and I wouldn’t want to go anyway. My position here is far too important.”

“I saw your paintings, you know,” I said. “Of the outside. Or at least the way you imagine it based on what you hear from the men. You’re curious.”

“I…” She hesitated, briefly gnawing at her bottom lip. “I confess, Iamcurious about it on occasion. But I know what it’s like to live out there, and I know how lucky we are here. Paradise, as we discussed earlier. Why would anyone want to give that up?”

“To see what else is out there. To see if it’s really as dark and dangerous as they say,” I said softly. “To see if there’s anything better than paradise.”

I wasn’t sure if she was aware that I was still looking at her, or that I’d shuffled nearer to her on the log, knee almost brushing hers. It felt strangely intimate to be here like this, cloaked in shadows and moonlight, close enough that I could feel the heat from her body crossing the mere inches between us.

As if the same thing had just occurred to her, she turned her head to look at me, eyes lingering on my lips. I was struck by the idea that she might want me to kiss her, but then her eyes flicked upward, and she carefully moved her knee away from mine, inhaling sharply at the same time.

“As I said, I have been curious about it. But that is all,” she murmured.

“Has anyone else ever been curious and actually done something about it?” I asked. “Anyone who wasn’t able to leave for business or education, that is.”

A faint smile curved up her lips. “Yes. When I was still in school, two boys from my class wanted to see the outside world. They’d heard a lot about it from the men, you see, but neither of them had good enough test scores to warrant them getting an outside education. So they decided their only chance to see the outside world had to be created themselves.”

“How so?”

“They spent an entire summer digging out a tunnel under the fence. One day, they finally finished it, and they walked all the way down the mountain to Pinecrest Falls.”

“What happened to them?”

Rose let out a light, tinkling laugh. “Nothing! They couldn’t do anything. They had no money or identifying documents on them, because we don’t have anything like that here. But those things are necessary in your world, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

She shuddered. “It all sounds so terribly complicated,” she said. “Anyway, those boys quickly returned. Things out there didn’t look so tempting once they were actually amidst it. They realized how good they had it here, and they never wanted to leave again.”

“Did they get in trouble with the adults?”

Rose shook her head. “The adults thought they were just exploring out in the woods all day, like most children do when they have their summer break.”

“No one turned them in?”

Her smile faded. “No. We all knew about it—the classmates, I mean—but none of us breathed a word. We didn’t want the boys to be punished.”

Ah.Things were finally getting interesting again.

I laced my fingers together, eyes narrowing on her. “How does punishment work around here?”

“Well, firstly, if someone is accused of a crime, they must attend something we call a Confession.”

“Like a Catholic-style church confession?” I asked, recalling Dubois’s Catholic roots.

“I don’t know. What does that entail?”

“You go to church, get inside a wooden confession booth, and confess your sins to the priest on the other side of the booth. Once you’re done, he assigns a penance based on the severity ofyour sin. It could be a prayer, or an act of charity, maybe. Then the priest declares that you are forgiven and have reconciled with God.”

Rose slowly shook her head. “Our confessions are nothing like that. They aren’t voluntary, either.”

That sounded ominous.

“So how do they work?”

“There are two parts,” she said. “Firstly, the accused is publicly interrogated after imbibing a certain type of tea.”

Ah.The infamous truth tea.

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