Page 5 of Sinner

Page List

Font Size:

Three

The elevator jerkedto a halt and Sister Mary Margaret collapsed.

Holy shit. Holygoddamnedshit. Flint raced to catch her, but she slipped through his arms and they both tumbled to the floor.

She was out.

He slipped his palm beneath her head and lifted it from the hard floor onto his lap.

He swallowed. “Sister, are you okay?”

Not a murmur. Only soft, shallow breathing.

He touched her cheek gently with the back of his hand.

Soft. Hot. Was it hot? He didn’t know.

Shit. Not good.

Crackles came through the speaker on the instrument panel, and then a male voice spoke. “Everything okay in there?”

Flint weighed a response in his mind. She said not to call anyone. That she just needed a moment. His mind whirled, caught between the desire to honor her wishes, and the urge to protect her. But… a nun telling him not to call anyone. It didn’t feel quite right. Maybe she was having a stroke, or an aneurism, and it confused her. Or maybe she was diabetic. He had that pudding in his bag. He was going to give it to her anyway, may as well do it now.

It could also be an epileptic fit; the silent kind.

He’d heard sometimes epileptics didn’t like a fuss. They knew they’d be okay in a few minutes and hated the paramedics coming. Epilepsy. That must be what it was. Surely.

Thinking back, though, she didn’t look confused when she’d begged him with those big round eyes.Please, she’d said, all sass and wickedness gone. His chest constricted.

“Hello?” came the voice on the speaker, this time with more urgency. “Please respond.” Then, when he didn’t reply: “Press the red button on the panel to speak. Hello? I can see you. I know you’re there.”

Flint glanced up and noted the camera in the corner.

Mary murmured at that point, a crease etched between her brows. Maybe she’d be okay. He would keep her head from touching the ground. The tension in his shoulders eased a little more when she sighed, and it was a glorious sight. The color returned to her cheeks. She squirmed in a way that made him think of things he shouldn’t be thinking. And she was on his lap. And he was going to hell.

“If you don’t respond, we will send a technician down and pry the doors open.”

Flint didn’t answer.

Sister Mary’s eyes popped open and air wheezed into her lungs.

“My goodness,” she croaked. “I have to tell them. I have to warn them.”

“Tell who?” Flint asked.

“It’s happening.”

“What’s happening? Sister, are you okay?” Maybe she’d hit her head.

Her black pupils dilated and contracted as she focused on his face and then noticed him. Her hands fluttered to where his hands cradled her head. “Flint.”

She said his name. Jeez he liked that.

“Are you okay? You kind of… fainted.”

“Did anyone see? Have you told anyone?”

“No, I haven’t… unless”—he glanced up at the roof—“the camera saw, but they can’t hear.”