Page 51 of Sinful

“Yes, Papa. Very fast.”

“Are you not excited?”

“Of course I am. But I must confess… it’s all a little overwhelming,” I said, folding my hands on my lap beneath the table. “Now that Elise has served her part, I’m the only one left, so soon there will be even more attention on me than usual. And there’s already been so much.”

“You’re right. Your status has granted you a lot of attention over the years, and that can be rather overwhelming,” Papa said. He leaned forward, eyes crinkling at the corners. “The outsiders have a saying.With great power comes great responsibility.Most people crave power, but they don’t understand how the responsibility part of it can slowly become a millstone around their necks.”

I nodded. “It can, yes.”

“What I am trying to say is—I understand. As the governor, I am responsible for so many lives, and on occasion, I also find myself feeling exhausted by it all,” he said. “But I always try to remember how important my work is, and that gives me the strength and energy to go on. You must do the same. Remember how important your ritual is. How many lives it will save and enrich.”

“That’s a good way to look at it, Papa.” I looked down at my half-full bowl of stew and faked a yawn. “But if it’s all right with you, I might turn in early tonight, because I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. If I go to bed now and get a full, uninterrupted night of sleep, I think I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling much better.”

“That’s a good idea.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “I’ll try to be quiet down here, so I don’t wake you up.”

“Thank you, Papa.” I rose to my feet and reached for my bowl.

My father shook his head. “No, no. Leave it. I’ll put it away later,” he said. “You go and rest now.”

Another streak of guilt flashed through me. He was being so kind and understanding, and I was repaying that kindness by lying right to his face. It had to be done, though, because the only way I could leave Alderwood was through deception and trickery.

“Thank you, Papa,” I repeated in a low murmur. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Of course, darling. Bright and early.”

The awful pangs of guilt gnawing at my stomach weren’t enough to deter me from my plan. If I didn’t go tonight, I might never get the chance to explore the outside world again. Sebastian was right—after all my years of service, I deserved a night of freedom. Besides, it was onlyonenight. A few hours, really. What harm could that do?

I faked another yawn and trudged upstairs, lantern in hand. When I reached my bedroom, I quickly grabbed some blankets from the chest at the foot of my bed and arranged them under the sheets to form a vaguely person-sized lump. That way, if my father got the urge to check on me in the middle of the night, he’d see it and assume it was me, quietly slumbering.

Once I was done, I found an old pair of winter boots at the back of my closet and pulled them on over a thick pair of socks. I couldn’t wear my usual shoes, because my father might notice them missing from the wooden rack by the door when he passed it on his way to the stairs later.

I snuffed out the lantern, tiptoed into the hall again, and called downstairs. “Goodnight!” I said before loudly closing my door.

Papa called up in a distracted tone, presumably believing I was on the bedroom side of the door. “Goodnight, darling! Sleep well!”

I sucked in a deep breath. Then I tiptoed down the hall, quiet as a mouse. I stopped halfway, one hand carefully reaching for the door handle on my left. The room beyond the door used to be my nursery, and it would have been my younger brother or sister’s bedroom if my mother had survived my birth and gone on to give my father more children. Now, it sat unused, filled with boxes of my mother’s possessions, a shrine to her memory.

I carefully opened the door, hoping it wouldn’t creak, and then I stepped into the room and closed it behind me, just as carefully. It didn’t make a peep, despite all the years of neglect. A helping hand from the Entity, I assumed.

The thought spurred me on, filling me with even more strength and determination. After all, the Entity only helped those who deserved it, so if I was doing the wrong thing, that help wouldn’t have arrived.

I crept over to the window and opened it, hoping our neighbors weren’t hanging about on that side of their house. Thankfully, the windows were all dark, and I couldn’t see or hear any movement beyond the walls. They were probably out somewhere.

With a deep breath, I swung my legs over the windowsill and hooked my feet on the ivy-covered trellis that stood flush against the wall. Heart in my throat, I clambered downward, praying no one would see me. The dark night provided some cover, but all it would take was a neighbor peering out the window at the exact wrong moment, or a random passerby spotting me, and then I would be caught.

I made it to the bottom without any problems. Breathing a sigh of relief, I pulled my shawl over my head and hurried down the tiny lane between the houses, knowing I couldn’t take the main street. Even though it was dark, it was only six-thirty, so a lot of people were still out and about in the town, drinking at the tavern, taking evening strolls, or crossing back and forth between houses for Sunday dinner visits.

If any of them spotted me, I could simply lie and say I was out for a walk, but then I’d have to pray they didn’t bump into my father anytime soon, because they might mention that they’d seen me tonight, and then my entire adventure would be exposed.

Once again, the Entity lent me a helping hand. Not one person spotted me as I hurried through the town, head down and face half-hidden beneath my shawl, and I made it out to the woods without a hitch.

Heart thrumming with a mix of fear and anticipation, I stepped beyond the tree line and headed northwest, using the bright starlight slicing through the forest canopy to guide my way.

When I was close to the boundary fence, I slowed my steps, eyes narrowing with concentration. I knew the tunnel was still present—I’d checked earlier this afternoon, once Rite of Communion was over—but it wouldn’t be so easy to find in the dark, even with the aid of the starlight.

The boys had hidden it well, between two hulking old trees, and they’d covered the small entrance with long sticks and debris from the forest. I’d spent over an hour searching for it earlier, on my hands and knees brushing at every pile of leaves I saw on the ground, and I’d gotten my dress so dirty that I had to lie and tell everyone I’d tripped during a walk through the woods to explain the mess.

Pursing my lips, I stopped, eyes falling on a gnarled log. I recalled spotting this exact log only moments before finding the tunnel entrance, so I had to be close now. Part of me wished I hadn’t covered it back up after finding it, but another part of me knew it was a wise move, just in case anyone else from town just so happened to wander through this part of the woods today.

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