Chapter 3
THREE
SIN
I stroll down the hallway with my hands clasped behind my back, glancing at what I presume are the orphans' rooms. The atmosphere here feels bleak. The attention given to the main floor hasn’t carried over to these spaces. Basic twin beds sit against light gray walls adorned with chipped paint. It resembles a prison more than anything else.
With no one around, I step into an empty room. I wouldn't even let my rottweiler sleep here. This kind of room breeds boredom. I cannot fathom the structural beauty of this building and the grounds around being so meticulously manicured when the rooms look like this.
Do the sisters sleep in extravagant chambers like the ones downstairs, or do they sleep up here? Is their greed measured by wealth like that of a Baptist pastor, or do they also stay in dreary spaces?
A light breeze flows in through the thin window. Winter must be cold here. Thin panes bear no protection to a New York frost.
This is unacceptable. I should walk down there and demand that at least half of the donation go into the upstairs chambers. I don't normally take a soft spot to anything, but no one should be hanging out up here, much less dwelling.
A gentle melody drifts down the hallway, drawing me away from the dull surroundings. I pursue it.
As I follow the melody, I discover one of the nun's rooms. It's much larger, featuring a queen-sized bed draped with a thick comforter. This seems more acceptable. I gaze at the four-poster bed, pondering its size, considering that the sister’s downstairs have never had, and likely never will have, company in their beds.
They chose their religion over getting laid, and that I cannot begin to understand at all. Do they touch themselves, or is that against their archaic set of rules?
With a shake of my head, I leave the pure room. The most sinful thing that ever inhabited it has just departed.
A tall stone arch with no door catches my eye: the library. I doubt they have anything worthwhile to read—what is the teaching curriculum here, anyway? The melody sings again, and I soon discover its source.
A girl stands in the corner beside a rack of books, meticulously checking and arranging each one in its designated place. She handles them with care, her index finger resting on the tip of the spine as she gently nudges them back into position.
Something annoys me that she wasn't downstairs waiting on me like the others. But she doesn't look like a child, she's older. "Good afternoon." I nod her way.
She fumbles with the book in her hand, surely unused to a man being in her space. This place is located in the countryside of New York, miles away from any other housing or businesses. Are the only men she's ever met priests?
Her long, flowing hair cascades down her back in soft waves, catching the light and shimmering with every subtle movement. Her delicate profile gradually comes into view as she looks right, revealing high cheekbones and a gentle curve of her lips. It’s as if the sunlight in this closed off space is coming in only for her. Her eyelashes flutter slightly as she seems to sense my gaze, and when she fully faces me, her eyes meet mine with an intensity that makes my heart putter to life. So long has it been since I’ve felt that sensation.
I step towards her and she gazes at me with curiosity, showing no fear. "Do you have contacts?" she asks, adjusting the glasses on her button nose. Still holding the book, I take it from her and casually flip through the pages.
I choose not to comment on her failure to greet me once more. "No, I have Ghost eyes," I reply, pointing out my left blue eye and the solid grey of my right.
With my eyes facing downward as I stroll the pages, she dips her head up to get a better look. "What?" she asks, her raven hair blanketing the pages and blocking my view of the dreadfully boring book. Why would they deprive these girls of proper sleeping quarters and instead offer them pages filled with useless ink?
I nod, looking at her curious face. "The medical term is Heterochromia, but the myth is people with different colored eyes can see both Heaven and Hell." I grin, showcasing my white teeth.
She takes a step back, like I'm going to bite.
Smart.
Because I do.