Together
D IANA HAD NEVER BEEN the type to believe in omens.
If she had been, maybe things would've been different and she would've been better prepared. Maybe, if she had been the type to believe, she wouldn't have so quickly disregarded the notification on her phone, popping up from nowhere with a Verse of the Day from her bible app.
1 Peter 5:8
Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.
Maybe.
So many maybes.
But because all of these maybes could only occur with hindsight, she had been clueless as a newborn babe on the day she was fated to lose everything. And it had started innocuously enough, with Diana at the university's parking lot, making a call to the professor's office while she waited for Magnolia to pick her up.
"Hello, darling."
Her toes curled, like it always did, and she couldn't help smiling like a silly infatuated fool. "Hello, Professor."
"Are you on your way back?"
"Actually, that's the thing..." She told him about her planned visit to St. Therese's Shelter for the Sick and Homeless with Magnolia, adding afterwards, "It's in St. Valentine's, so it should be safe."
Crime-wise perhaps , the professor thought, but that wasn’t the only kind of danger they had to worry about.
"You know I'm still stuck with my thesis," Diana ventured in face of the professor's prolonged silence. "I know this could be nothing but a wild goose chase, but I just think it's still worth a try, if it could give me the direction I need."
The professor's fingers tightened involuntarily around his phone. If he told her no, he would be doing exactly what he promised himself he wouldn't do - change her life and lock her in a cage, atoning for a sin she hadn't even committed.
But if he were to say yes...
"Alright," he said finally. "But you need to take proper precautions."
"Of course." Diana's voice was filled with relief. "I have my pepper spray with me at all times, and it's not like I don't know you and Damen still have me under 24/7 surveillance."
"Diana—-"
"I gotta go." Magnolia was waving for her to hurry from the driver's seat, and Diana quickly made her way to the passenger seat. "Thanks for letting me do this. I know how much of a worrywart you are, and I promise to text you all the time. I love you."
The professor started to say 'I love you' back, but she had already ended the call, and something inside of him turned cold, like someone walking over his grave. But instead of worrying about his own safety, he could only think of Diana.
To hell with being paranoid , the professor thought. And so he made the call, and it was why, when Diana and Magnolia arrived at the shelter, it was to find one of Damen's undercover bodyguards waiting for her by the steps.
"Alvin?"
"Good evening, Ms. Leventis. Mr. de Graaf asked that you have this." The former Marine handed her a paper bag, and inside of it was a box of surgical gloves and professional-grade face masks. "If you need anything else, please just let us know."
"Yes." Diana's voice was faint. "Thank you." Her fingers tightened its grip on the paper bag as a strange sense of foreboding squeezed her heart.
She watched Alvin walk away and a part of her wanted to call the man back, wanted to ask him take her straight home to the professor so that everything would be alright.
Oh, Saint M—-
But her prayers were interrupted, with Magnolia impatiently calling her name out, and she mentally squared her shoulders. You're just being paranoid, Di. That's all. She followed her friend inside, but her unspoken misgivings persisted, and her quiet anxiety turned into something ominous and suffocating.
A weary-looking nun came to greet them, and Diana could only nod as Magnolia made the introductions.
While the shelter had been a pleasant-looking, two-story brick house on the outside, what existed within its walls was another story. Its long and narrow hallway was cramped, with hospital beds parked on each side, all of them bearing patients that appeared either gravely ill or were already at death's door.
Seeing her bewilderment, Sister Clare explained in a low voice, "We don't have enough doctors to treat them."
"I don't understand. Doesn't St. Valentines have sufficient funding—-"
"Money has never been a problem," the nun answered curtly. "What we lack are doctors who have the necessary compassion to treat them. As you can see, this is no glamorous workplace, and when you compare it to the posh clinics they have up at the ski resorts..."
Diana couldn't speak. The professor had known, she realized painfully. He had known what she would find here, how this could endanger his health a thousand ways, and he had still let her go.
He had let her go and risk his health, just because she had whined about her stupid thesis.
She took one of the masks out, but Sister Clare started shaking her head as soon as she saw it.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Leventis. But if you were to wear that, it would...it would complicate things. It would make them think you're disgusted."
"Then I can't..." She turned to Magnolia helplessly. "The professor..."
Magnolia paled, realizing what her friend was trying to say. "Oh God, I'm sorry, Di. I didn't think. I forgot..."
"Is anything wrong?" Sister Clare asked worriedly.
"I'm sorry." Diana found herself stumbling a step back. "I h-have someone at home..." The man I love. "He's easily...I can't...I'm so sorry." She could barely breathe now, her earlier sense of foreboding having risen back to the fore, and it was now a thousand times worse. "I have to leave. I'm sorry." She turned away, tears blinding her, and promptly bumped into someone.
"I'm sor—-"
The woman interrupted her with a series of coughs, and the moment Diana felt droplets of saliva strike her face, she wanted to cry.
Paranoid , a sly voice inside of her suggested. You're just being paranoid .
But she knew better now than to believe this, knew enough that she should have just listened to her fears and go running home to him.
I'm sorry, Professor.
And now it was too late, and the Devil still wanted to play with her.
A tear slipped down Diana's cheek, and the sight had the other woman flying in a rage. "What the fuck?"
Diana's head jerked up in confusion.
"Poverty isn't contagious, bitch!"
Realizing she had been misunderstood, and that her tears had been mistaken for an expression for disgust, Diana sought to explain, stammering, "It's not what you think—-"
But the other woman simply answered by spitting on her face.
It was chaos after that, with Sister Clare and Magnolia rushing in to restrain the other woman as she went berserk and tried to claw at Diana's face. But other patients had seen what had happened, and with a snap of the Devil's fingers, she had become the face of all their frustrations.
They came at her and for her.
No, no, no.
She could only curl herself in a ball, eyes closed and lips sewn shut, enduring everything they did - the hair-pulling, the kicks to her sides, the punches to her face - she could and would withstand everything just as long...
Please, Saint M.
Just as long...
Please, Saint M.
Please.
She fought to stay conscious until she heard security break in, fought to protect herself until she was lying on a stretcher and inside the safety of an ambulance. A paramedic started asking questions, and even as she tried to answer them as best as she could, her mind was already drifting, and she found herself remembering the oddest and most painful things...
She was a little girl again, and her nanny was telling her goodbye because Esther thought her too soft on her daughter.
It pains me to tell you this, my sweet girl, but you have to know, to protect yourself.
The Devil wears many faces, and his favorite masks are often those we're inclined to trust.
The scene faded, and Diana was suddenly in Dr. Owens' clinic, and the other woman was looking at her gravely.
Do you know what the varicella-zoster virus is, Diana?
It's a strain of virus that causes children to have chicken pox or adults to have shingles.
But for someone with HIV, in the very worst cases, it can cause internal bleeding in the brain.
It can result in death.
That's why you have to be just as careful with your health as Matthijs is.
Something that can only make you cough or sneeze could be enough to kill him.
When she finally woke up, she was in the hospital, and tears were rushing down her cheeks.
Because now she understood.
The Devil wears many faces , her nanny had once told her.
And it used to be that his favorite mask was that of her mother's face.
But now, it was something else.
Now, he sought to harm the professor, and the Devil's mask was of Diana's face.