Page 65 of Devour

You’d think by now, I’d have accepted that I wasn’t supposed to know what everyone was thinking, and only suffer quietly when I gained knowledge I shouldn’t have. That didn’t really sound like me at all, though.

“Oh, my glob, you can’t say anything,” I blurted. Maybe I should’ve denied anything happened instead. That didn’t really sound like me, either.

Eric cocked his head.

“I see it in your face. You’re thinking something and I didn’t mean it that way.” Oh, and he was thinking about it even more now. I was making this so much worse by freaking out.

“Rhory, it’s okay,” he said with a good-natured chuckle.

“Nope, not okay,” I abruptly said while gesturing for him to cut it out.

“I’m not going to say anything.” And I could see he meant it. Damn, he really was a good person. “Don’t get me wrong, I sort of assumed anyway, but our rooms share a wall, and last night—”

“Nothing happened,” I stressed.

“If you say so.” Eric smiled and turned away to start a pot of coffee. “I wouldn’t have said anything even if it had. Very clearly not an out-in-the-open relationship.”

“Nope, not in a relationship. Not like that.”

Eric turned back and smiled at me again. “I’ve got a younger brother, you know.”

“Really? And now you’re trying to set me up with your brother?”

“I figure we’ve got to get you in the family one way or another.”

Well, that got me to cackle, and Eric busted out laughing with me while he went back to get mugs for the coffee. The sentiment felt nice—for a few minutes. Then, it sort of hurt. I wished hubs had more family like Mary and Eric instead of what he actually had. As for me, well, I’d love to have a family like them, too. Except I didn’t. Couldn’t. Never had and never would.

“Evil?” I repeated, taken aback by the question.

“Yes, I want to know if you believe in evil.”

The person in question asking my stance on evil was a boy who participated in our youth groups named Noah. Literally, still a boy, maybe sixteen or so; quiet, introverted, and shy. A good kid, but one internally plagued by something.

“Well, the Church…” I began.

“No,” he interrupted. “I want to know if you believe in true evil.”

“True evil, as in… the devil?”

He nodded.

“I have no reason not to.” I shifted behind my desk in a poor attempt at hiding my discomfort. “Though I wouldn’t say that constitutes true evil.”

Noah shifted closer, hanging on my every word.

“I believe people use the devil to justify what has no justification. Because blaming an outside force is easier than admitting whatever crimes we commit against one another are ours alone, and not because demonic forces compelled us. The devil is as real as we make him.”

“So… people can be evil?”

“People can be sinners. Many sins are evil.”

“Which sins aren’t evil?”

I took a deep breath and rubbed my temples. This kid, he really was a good kid, and I tried to remind myself of that. “You tell me. Which sins do you think aren’t considered evil?”

Oh, and I embarrassed him. Noah turned scarlet, and his gaze dipped down to his sneakers before he shrugged.

“Noah, I’m not a priest. Which means I can’t hear confessions and I can’t offer the sacrament of reconciliation,” I said.

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