Page 5 of The Sinner and the Scholar
Yet the prickling on the back of my neck increases. Maybe I’m still jittery from earlier, but…A Sinner must always trust her instincts, my crotchety old teacher would say.Evil lurks in the wings.
Unlike the pure, chaste nuns flapping through the abbey, Sinners go straight to hell. Unless we repent and purge our souls through pain and prayer… and I’m not sure if my body can keep up with my sins anymore. We break commandments weekly, and there’s no sugarcoating that.
The severed hand is clammy, squishy, and cold. I have to get rid of it. But first, I need to check on my things. My monastic cell is on the left. I hesitate with my hand on the doorknob. Why am I feeling like this? Is it simply the after-effects of my mission?
I shut my eyes against the memory—the demonic voice. Spittle flies from his mouth. The strange mark on his hand. The foul and obscene gestures he made… and finally, how he’d just… erupted.
I shake it off, hold my breath, and open my door.
A simple, small room. The cot is made. The bedding is clean. Wood is polished to shine on a one-person pew. A small, closed window reveals manicured gardens three levels below and a sprinklertik-tik-ticksas water sprays rhythmically. But the room is empty. And that’s the problem.
Where were my things?
Sweat breaks out on my brow. I rush to the next room, rap on the door, and then yank it open. Clean. Empty. The next room is the same. Every door on the left side of the hallway opens to an empty cell, cleaned out as though the Sinners never existed.
My worst nightmare has come true. Invalidation. Eradication. Erasure.
They’re finally getting rid of us despite the Rev’s promise to have our back.Always. Maybe Sinner Alice had the right idea—maybe I should get out now while I can… go and join her and the Deadly Seven fighting crime in Cardinal City.
Voices have me spinning—the other side of the hallway. Someone is still here. I thump on the first door and burst through, almost sobbing in relief to see the blond, American Pie sweetheart Sinner reclining on her bed, listening to the collection of Nina Simone records Alice left her. Tawny smiles at me and tugs her large retro headphones off.
“Oh, hey, Thea.” Her smile drops. She waves her hand across her pale, freckled nose. “Gosh, no offense, but you smell awful.”
“Where’s my stuff?”
“Your stuff?” Her nose wrinkles again.
I gesture down the hall. “My manuscript, my belongings,my stuff!”
“Oh, yourstuff.” She bites her lip. “Yeah, everyone on that side has had their things moved to this side, and we’re sharing now.”
Only then do I notice another cot squished into her tiny room. I blink. Stare. Someone’s belongings have been piled onto that cot. Leather, torture devices, and crumpled cigarette boxes. Probably Raven’s.
Tawny puts her headphones back on, pops a Cheeto into her mouth, and closes her eyes as she bops her feet to the beat. She acts like this move doesn’t affect her, but I know her. Another empty Cheetos packet is on the floor.Stress eating for breakfast.And sleeping in. Inside her peaches and cream complexion lays a vicious viper coiled tight. Tawny hates letting it loose. I’ve never met a Sinner with as many inner demons as that one right there.
She reluctantly holds out her Cheetos packet to me.
With a frustrated growl, I walk next door and knock. “Where’s my stuff?”
No answer.
I open the door but freeze as a Smith & Wesson barrel touches my forehead. Leila glares at me, her nostrils flaring.
“I’m not in the mood, Leila.”
“Then don’t get me started,” she replies.
The stunning Chinese-American brunette puts her gun away, flops onto her squeaky cot, and resumes tossing a tennis ball at the peeling wallpaper ahead. If Tawny is stress-eating, I’m surprised Leila’s not outside running laps of the estate.
The second cot isn’t mine. It seems to belong to a Sinner on an extended mission—Hannah. She’s heavily infiltrated the Pentagon. We might not see her for another year. I glare at Leila—lucky bitch. This room is like having no roommate at all. And Leila will use force to keep it that way.
I step outside, close my eyes, and rub my temples.Please don’t let me be with Mercy. Please don’t let me be with Mercy.
She’s our team leader, but for heaven’s sake, she’s a nightmare to live with. Gingerly, I knock at her door. No answer. I press my ear to the wood and hear talking. I open and then immediately close. The sight of a top naked, buxom redhead pouting and making sex sounds at a laptop screen is burned into my retinas.
And I didn’t even see what was on her other cot.
Fuck it.
