Chapter 4
FOUR
SIN
I put the book back on her cart. "Are you going to thank me for my donation? Your library will be stocked full."
"Oh!" Realization floods her; she must have heard of my impending arrival. I know this must be different than their norm, exciting even. "Sorry!”
I cross my arms, having to look nearly all the way down to speak to her. "Why weren't you downstairs?"
She straightens up slightly, attempting to match my height, and I can’t help but chuckle at her playful effort. She would need to grow at least two feet to really be at my level. Perhaps that wouldn’t be ideal, given that her eyes keep drifting from one eye to the other—blue to grey, then grey to blue.
"I... I needed to organize the books,” she finally says, diverting her gaze from me to the shelves.
The blue in her eyes sparkles as she catalogs each title. This is probably the most exciting part of her day; surrounded by boring stories about other worlds, nonetheless. Anything to escape years of being trapped like Rapunzel in this mansion.
"I do thank you, though." Her face turns downward, and I have a powerful feeling that I need to cup her dainty chin with my hand, forcing her to look at me. "But I won’t be able to enjoy anything. I age out soon."
I pull up my sleeves, and her gaze juts to the swirling black ink. "Age out?" I ask.
She quietly traces the ink on my forearm with her eyes as she completes her thought. "Well, I already aged out technically. I turned eighteen two months ago, so I'll be kicked out." She directs her attention to her task, but I notice the concern etched on her face. The way she bites her lip and doesn't bother to tuck a fallen strand of raven hair from her face.
Will she be kicked onto the streets? Unwanted by catholic families because of her age no doubt; why would they want to adopt an adult when there are giggling toddlers downstairs? The thought makes me curious… who will she spend Christmas with? Who will celebrate her nineteenth birthday?
A life forgotten, tucked away into a library and soon to be kicked out of the only home she's probably ever known.
"What's your favorite?"
She tilts her head inquisitively. "My favorite what?"
I extend my hand and say, "Book."
"Oh, umm..." She tenses, mulling over the different titles. "The Bible, of course," she decides, but I can tell by the way she says it she is full of shit.
I step a little closer to her. "Don't lie to me," I nearly sneer. If there's one thing I don't tolerate, it's dishonesty. Men have been killed for less than the lie she just told.
"I have too many," she admits.
I nod. "Genre?"
She looks to the archway, making sure no nuns are nearby. "Fantasy."
She notices she's leaned in to whisper and quickly steps back.
"I assumed that wouldn't be permitted here."
"It's not." She shakes her head. "But there's a groundskeeper that hides different titles for me.” She walks over to a shelf, peeling back a few books to reveal a hidden stack.
Her cheeks flush red, and I realize this girl's biggest, darkest secret lies in a few books hidden in the shadows. In my own darkness, the secret I hide from the world is bodies.
But hey, we all have our vices.
"So fantasy... does that mean you like to escape?”
She nods her head. “Sometimes.”
"What fantasy books do you read?" I peek at the titles, spotting mostly dragons and muscular fae. Knights that save the princess . Fairytales.
This groundskeeper has done her a disservice.
I shouldn’t say that, as it is actually kind of him to bring contraband into this fortress, to recognize the utter lack of human creation from the outside world.
I look up, at the mural on the ceiling. A battle of sorts is happening above us. A devil tempting a woman with the crook of his finger, luring her closer. The things she must have learned here.
I smile at the painting, looking back down at the girl. Hmm. "When is your last day here?" I study her for a moment. Shiny black hair that reaches the curve of her ass. She's petite in height, and thick where I like.
"August eleventh," she replies.