Chapter 21
Grace
Ifind myself curled up against my pillows as I slowly stretch my limbs awake. I open my eyes to the morning light shining softly through an opening in my curtains. “What time is it?” I groan to Milly.
I blink my eyes a few more times and notice she is nowhere to be found. I sigh and lie back down on the bed in disappointment when I hear a crinkle. I lean up to see a piece of paper on the pillow next to mine. It’s a handwritten note with a lipstick kiss pressed on it. Milly.
I wish I could have stayed to see your beautiful eyes greet the morning light. But I must rest and prepare myself for what lies ahead. I shall visit soon. Attend your classes—but do so with caution.
I smile at the note and find myself daydreaming about waking up next to her.
Her hair cascading around the pillows in a sea of red ribbons, her golden eyes reflecting the morning rays, and the kisses I would give along the freckles on her neck.
I’d do anything to wake up to her beauty.
The sunrise will never compare to the light she brings into a room.
I climb out of bed and ready myself for a day full of classes, cringing slightly at my neglectful behavior regarding homework assignments.
Part of me doesn’t care to put the effort in, knowing that my fate may end sooner than anyone would ever think.
Yet there’s another part of me that is still in love with music, desperate to grow in my knowledge and perspectives.
This campus wasn’t my choice, but I suddenly felt a need to protect it, appreciate it.
I pull my long black hair up with a brush, tying it into a messy bun, brushing my bangs down, and huffing at their sweaty twirls.
I spend a few minutes blow-drying them before giving up and settling for the bumpy edges.
They will never lie how I want them. I apply my eye makeup, finishing with a sharp wing.
Once finished, I place my oval glasses on the bridge of my nose.
I find myself with a little more excitement as I go through the final motions of my morning routine, reflecting on every moment with Milly.
I snag my phone off the bedside table and click on Bea’s name as it rings. I fidget, watching the screen, waiting for her to answer, but it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, Bea. It’s Grace. I’m sorry I’ve been out of the loop lately. Adjusting here has been rough, to say the least. I miss you. Call me when you can. Love you!” I hang up and see the time in the corner.
“Shit,” I gasp. I snag my backpack off my chair and rush out of my bedroom, running directly into Jocelyn.
“Ow!” I snap as my head collides with hers. I rub my forehead and glance up at her doing the same thing.
“Sorry, I just was…ouch.” She rubs her nose. “I was just about to knock on your door and ask if you wanted to sit together at chapel.”
I stop rubbing my forehead, anxiety rushing through me. I don’t answer for a moment as I try to find a way out of this. I honestly wasn’t going to attend chapel this morning. I wanted to rush to the library before my World History course.
“If we leave now, we can make it before the credit doesn’t count,” she offers as she steps toward the front door.
Unfortunately for me, she’s correct. Hollowbrook requires a certain number of chapel attendance credits to pass each semester, regardless of the grades you earn. As much as I don’t think it’s worth the time, setting myself up for failure probably isn’t the best idea.
I begrudgingly nod and toss on a forced smile. But it’s enough to satisfy Jocelyn as she squeals and grabs my forearm, dragging me through our front door.
“I’m so excited we are hanging out more now. It will certainly make chapel that much more interesting, don’t you think?” She winks at me as I step away, pulling from her hold on my arm. I hum noncommittally to her as we head toward the chapel in the middle of the campus.
The wind is strong today as my bangs flop around, surely bringing the edges into messier twists. My happy mood from this morning is subtly becoming more and more sour.
She points to my bag. “That’s a cute pin!”
I glance over and smile softly at the bluebird pin that Bea gave me when I moved for my freshman year of college. “Bea, my friend, gave me that. The one I told you about last night.”
Josie smiles. “Aw, that’s sweet of her. Is there a meaning for it?”
I squint my eyes slightly, looking at the pin and nod, but don’t respond. Josie takes my silence with a grain of salt, jumping right into the next subject.
“I wonder what will be talked about this morning. I heard Priest Brown brought in a female guest speaker for today's chapel.”
I glance over at her, pinching my brows together. “Isn’t Priest Brown your father? Why do you call him that and not Dad or something?” I ask her.
She pales slightly and looks ahead as we step up the stairs into the church. “How did you know he was my father?” she whispers to me softly.
I stop, and she turns over her shoulder to look at me as she grabs my arm again, pulling me into the corner of the entrance. “No one knows he’s my father. How did you know that?” she asks with a little more hostility.
I swallow and try to think my way out of this situation, knowing exactly how I know: I overheard them. “You both look similar; it was just a guess,” I try to amend, but she’s already shaking her head at me.
“We don’t look alike at all, Grace. Who told you?”
“Ladies.”
We both flip our heads to the side as we find Priest Brown smiling down at us with a sinister smile, his deacon close behind. “What do we have here? Is everything alright, Grace?”
I glance down at where Jocelyn’s hand rests on my arm, all while she leans into me…in a dark corner. I close my eyes at how this might look. I’m sure the tension he’s feeling is being mistaken as something sexual. We probably gave him enough proof just in this moment.
I glance up and spot a camera above us, and I roll my eyes. Of course, there’s a camera here recording this situation. I’m sure they would mute it, too, knowing my luck.
“You are aware, Grace, that this campus does not tolerate same sex indiscretions.” He starts lecturing me as I smile back at him.
“I would be more concerned about your daughter, Priest Brown.” I grab her hand, and she swings her head to me, her eyes bulging as she looks at my hand holding hers.
“Josie was the one who made us all the best snacks last night for one-on-one time. She was even the one who pulled me into this corner. I’m sure the God you worship wouldn’t smite those based on who they love, would they?
Especially your daughter Josie, she’s such a sweet girl. ”
I look at her with fluttering lashes as she clenches her jaw. I glance back at Priest Brown and see his skin start turning an unruly red when one of the deacons approaches us. He drops his jaw as he sees Josie and me holding hands.
Josie looks back and forth, ripping her hand free of mine and holding it as if she had just been burned. “I swear, Priest Brown, it is not what it looks like!” She starts to panic.
They might have tried to set me up, to find proof for the clergy to let me be the scapegoat for the upcoming ritual, but they might have just found their second option—the priest’s daughter.
Unless no one actually knows this. Fuck.
Josie was shocked that I knew. I have a feeling that the clergy would be shocked by many things about this situation.
Ironically enough, they would likely be more offended that the priest had a child outside of marriage than by the idea that he has a literal demon possessing him.
Wedlock would always be a top-tier church scandal.
My jaw drops as I start to think through the situation further. Could that be a reason why no one knows that information? I bite my tongue as I try not to laugh at the irony of the supposed most holy man on campus committing sins that weigh the same as others.
“Sir, what should we do?” the deacon asks as he continues to stare at the two of us with alarm.
Priest Brown clears his throat. “Send them both to the confessional. We must cleanse them immediately.” He turns away abruptly, heading out of sight. The deacon opens and closes his mouth before turning and starting down the hallway, stopping and waving us along with his hand.
“After you,” Josie glares at me.
I ignore her as I walk past and follow the deacon down the hallway to the stairwell.
I hear Josie grumbling behind me, but ignore her.
She got herself into this situation in the first place.
She was trying to set me up; how could I feel pity for her?
She knew what she was doing and what the cost would be.
The cost being my life. With her now being dragged into this with me, perhaps my life will be spared.
There’s no way her own father would put her in the ritual.
This might be my way out. I try not to get my hopes up as we descend the staircase.
It continues to get darker and darker until we reach the basement level, where a giant wooden door with the word CONFESSIONAL greets us. I glance over my shoulder at Jocelyn, who has become silent and far more pale than she was upstairs. I swallow my nerves, lifting my head as I open the door.