Page 99 of Breaking the Sinner

She buried her face in her hands, the stillness of the room sinking into her. She sat in the frothy sadness, drowned in it even, for so long that she lost track of time. An hour could have passed—or maybe two. The quiet prompted a delirious sort of clarity. The kind that thundered through her, dragging crazy thoughts in its wake.

So this was heartbreak. She understood now. The ridiculous songs, the endless poetry, the sad part of every romance novel she’d ever read. Everyone wrote about it because it consumed. Tore apart. Completely obliterated whatever semblance of peace and stability that might have existed prior.

Cobra’s abandoning her served as the end of something. But also the beginning of something else.

Because staying another night wasn’t an option. Cobra’s leaving didn’t have to mean she was trapped.

All the wild fantasies she’d ever harbored about traveling abroad—hitchhiking, glorious sunsets, the open road full of possibility and adventure—could become manifest now.

She would hitchhike her way out of here.

Cobra be damned.

Gen made the decision and flew into action so she couldn’t think twice. If she already headed toward leaving, then it would be harder to stop. One of those physics laws, or something. The whole science world was blurry to her still, but she knew there had to be a theory out there backing her up.

She tore off her conservative clothes, sliding back into the jean shorts and blouse she’d come in. She shrugged on a light sweater as well, packed up the rest of her sparse things, and stomped down the stairs.

Her entire body buzzed with clarity. With resolution. Leaving this house the first time had been tense, laced with sadness, choked by an expectation that this was a phase and their small, obedient Prudence would be returning soon. This time, it offered a liberation she hadn’t known could be accessed.

Prudence wasn’t coming back.

Cobra was right. They still treated her like her spiritual shortcomings had been the cause of Bethany’s death. But the cause of Bethany’s death was simple—a drunk driver had hit them, and the impact against the telephone pole killed Bethany. And even if she came back and prayed for the next century, that stain would still hang over her head.

She was tired of bearing the brunt of that senseless tragedy. Tired of being a punching bag for righteousness. Tired of being trapped in a spiritual tug-of-war that would only result in her being torn in two.

She wanted out.

This time for good.

She stomped down the hallway, past the primly arranged family portraits showing all of them at different points in their same, boring trajectory. When Gen was five, they wore white shirts. At age ten, they wore sky blue. Age fifteen, navy. There wouldn’t be another one. Not with her in it, at least.

Her mind roiled hot and choppy. She burst into the dining room, chest heaving. Almost everyone’s plates were empty, except for her and Cobra’s abandoned dishes. That sent another hot wash of anger through her. She wanted to enjoy her family, despite their differences. But they had made it impossible.

“I’m leaving,” she declared. “I love you all, but I am so, so angry at all of you. Except for you, Mary; I really hope that you can continue to not believe the lies they share about me.”

“Prudence, don’t leave!” Mary leapt up from her seat and ran over to Gen, wrapping her arms around her. “Tell Father you’re sorry and you love Jesus, and everything will be better.”

“I do love Jesus, Mare-Bear,” Gen said softly into her ear. “And I loveyou. But I’m not sorry for standing up for myself. And I want you to remember that being who you are is never a sin.”

“But Prudence…”

“I’m sorry this turned into such a shit show,” she said to her family, the words leaping from her tongue like a divine declaration. “I missed you all and just wanted to see your faces again. But if all you’re going to do is shame me and make me hate myself, I really don’t have time for that.”

She squeezed Mary one last time, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Bye, Mare-Bear.”

And then she turned. Each step leading her away from the dining room thundered through her, time moving in surreal clarity around her. Backpack hooked over her shoulder, she dragged her fingertips along the wall of the hallway, tilting her head to peek up the staircase one last time.

Maybe the last time of all time.

Outside, the sun was still bright and high. She had at least four more hours of daylight, which would be plenty of time to walk into town and find a bus or a sympathetic traveler.

She’d findsomething. She had to.

Because right now, with the past tucked messily behind her, with these uncomfortable but liberating holes in her heart, she could more clearly see the path ahead.

She was a sinner, but she was fucking free.

Free.

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