Page 82 of Where the Darkness Goes

TESSA — PRESENT DAY

“It’s about Pastor Charles. And whatever you’re thinking, I promise you it’s so much worse.”

His words repeat in my head, utterly impossible. I laugh, angry that he’s still joking with me after all that we’ve experienced. I know he’s not, I guess, if I really think about the look on his face, but it’s impossible. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” His voice is forceful.

“Pastor Charles is… I mean, come on, he’sPastor Charles. What could he possibly have done?”

Will scratches his forehead. “Uh, everything?”

“I don’t understand.” I stand, folding my arms across my chest as I pace. It’s so impossible it’s laughable. Except no one is laughing. “Why are you saying this?”

“I don’t even know where to start.” He releases a heavy breath and rests a hand on his head. “Um, well, he’s the reason I stole the jewelry, for one thing. He asked me to.”

My jaw goes stiff. “Of course. Oh, Will. He was testing you. Don’t you see that? He was testing you to see if you would sin, and you did.”

“No.” His head shakes in denial. “That’s what I thought at first, too. But he was serious. He said…he said it wasn’t right thatCassidy’s family had something in their house, just sitting there, worth all that money when it could pay to feed hungry families in our town for a year. When it could pay off a house. When it could turn the lights on for the families who’d had theirs shut off.”

I can tell he’s hurting. I just can’t make sense of any of this. “So what? He asked you to steal the jewelry, and you just…did? Without even questioning it?” Even as he says it, I understand how it could be true. Pastor Charles is a leader in our community. He’s someone we trust. From the time we were infants, he’s been a figurehead in our lives. If he told me to go stand in traffic, I’d probably do it. We’ve been taught not to question authority, but especially not when that authority is God or His messengers. If he did this, if what Will’s saying is true, there has to be a good reason.

“No, not at first. I wanted to ask Mom about it, to see what she thought, but he told me sometimes men of God have to do bad things for the greater good. Like God flooding the earth to save it. I was helping, he told me. Not only the church and community, but Cassidy’s family. He said it was a sin for them to hoard their wealth, that they were being held prisoner by it, and once it was gone, they’d be free.”

I sit down next to him again, putting a hand on his knee. He looks so distraught, even now, I have no choice but to believe him.

“He gave me this stack of pictures of girls who needed to be punished. The pictures you found in my nightstand. That’s why I freaked out so badly. Cassidy’s picture had the necklace and bracelet in the display case in the background. He used the picture to show me what I was supposed to take, then gave me the photos of Emily and Amber, too. He told me to keep them together because he might need me to go on anothermissionfor him in the future. So I snuck over there and took the jewelry, and I gave them to Pastor Charles. He thanked me and told meGod would reward me for what I’d done. But then…Cassidy died a few days later, and suddenly everything went crazy. I was so scared I’d be caught, and they’d think I had something to do with her death.”

“But you didn’t?” I confirm. At this point, I have to confirm everything.

“I didn’t. I swear to you I didn’t. I never found her at the party until someone told me they’d seen her in the basement. When I got down there, she was already…” He covers his eyes, sniffling as he tries to regain composure. “And then Cory was there, and he was blamed, which took the pressure off of me, but it ate at me. At least it did until then they found everything else at his house a few days later: the china, the missing bracelet, and the coin collection. And I thought maybe he’d stolen the bracelet from the church or something, but also maybe he really had done all the rest of it. If he’d stolen the other missing stuff—the china and the coin collection—and killed Cassidy too, it wasn’t so hard to believe he’d also killed the others. And if that was true, what was it going to hurt for him to go down for the jewelry if he’d done so much worse?”

I draw my brows together, confused. “So you think Cory actuallydidkill all those people?”

“I did,” he admits. “At first. But then later I found out it was Pastor Charles who claimed to have found the stuff in Cory’s room. He said he went to Cory’s house to pray for him with his family and that was when he saw the bag of stolen stuff. Cory’s family said they’d never seen it before, but it was their word against Pastor Charles, and of course, he was believed. I just…when I heard that, something didn’t feel right. So I talked to Mom. I told her everything. What I’d done. What he’d done. I just kind of exploded and told her every last detail.”

“And what did she say? She must’ve been furious.”

He looks away for a long while, like he’s thinking hard, his face solemn. “She was. But, Tessa, it wasn’t just about that. It…” He licks his lips, looking down.

“What is it? What can be harder to tell me than all of this?”

“Pastor Charles isn’t just our pastor.” He swallows and smooths his hand over his mouth, looking up as he says, “He’s also our dad.”

The words slam into my chest and shatter me. It’s the biggest lie of the day. I stand up, physically rejecting the statement. “No. Stop it.”

“Yes.” He stands up, too, following me, speaking faster. “Yes. Think about it. Think about how weird Mom always was with Pastor Charles. One minute she loved him, the next she was angry with him. One week we couldn’t miss church, and then we’d go an entire month with her visiting the church in Elmdale or Walter Hill.”

“That doesn’t prove anything. We have pictures of Dad.”

“We have pictures of a man with a baby,” he says, taking my hands. I’m trembling, as if the idea is trying to force its way into my head. “A man with two babies. We don’t have pictures of Mom and Dad. And we don’t have pictures of Mom, Dad, and us.”

“One of them always had to take the picture.” I rattle off the excuse we’ve been given all our lives.

“Or it was a lie,” he says, his voice as soft as his eyes. “Mom lied to protect us. Because he asked her to.”

“He’s married.”

Will nods. “Mom was working as the church’s secretary when the affair started. It lasted three years. After you were born, he cut it off.”

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