Page 104 of Deliver us from Evil

The instant I lift Monica’s bible out of the drawer, I know it’s not like the others. For one, it’s been read before. There are faint fingerprints on the cover, as if she handled it after putting on lotion or cuticle oil. When I turn the bible so the spine rests in my palm and focus on the gold-trimmed pages, there’s a narrow section that’s been rubbed off from use.

Behind me, Zach and Cass start discussing which side of the room they’ll start tearing up the floorboards on.

I open the front cover. There’s a short message in an elegant script.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1:5

Dear Monica,

Let this book be your light.

Love,

Gabe.

I letthe bible fall open in my hands, hoping it will land where the spine was most often opened.

New Testament. The book of Mark.

No notes, no dog ears.

I start paging.

I reach the end of Mark. The faster I thumb through those near-transparent pages, the tighter my chest grows.

Then I skim ahead.

Luke.

The forty-second book of the bible.

I page furiously until I reach chapter eleven.

It starts a quarter of the way down the left page, in the first column.

Our father’s prayer.

It’s been underlined several times.

The word “forgiveness” was circled so hard it tore through the paper.

I snap the book closed. Turn.

My brothers are facing me. Zach is frowning, and as soon as his eyes dart down to the bible, he walks up to me.

“Luke eleven,” I tell him, slamming the book into his chest.

And then I’m bolting out the room, down the stairs, through the passage.

4-2-1-1

The basement door unlocks. I shove it open, take a step.

But then the smell hits me.

I freeze.

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