Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Not to anyone in the Order, at least. And especially not to Father McCall.
If anything, he’d probably command me to kneel on pencils and repeat the Hail Mary until my tongue falls off for having impure thoughts.
But maybe Isaac would understand. Maybe he can help me feel not so stupid about all of this.
Rubbing my phone screen off on my towel, I dial Isaac’s number and press it back against my wet ear.
The phone rings twice before he answers.
“Hey,” Isaac tries to say casually, but there’s surprise and a touch of worry in his voice. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say immediately, but even I can hear how much it sounds like a lie.
“You sure?”
I scowl at his suspicion. “Of course. Why wouldn’t everything be okay?”
“Because you never call me.”
I sigh.
“And I know you, Chloe,” he says. “I can tell something is wrong.”
Shaking my head, I start to roll my eyes, only to stop when he says, “Don’t roll your eyes at me. You know I’m right.”
“I’m not rolling my eyes,” I say defensively.
“Oh, that’s another lie,” he says, his voice teasing now,
I start to roll my eyes again.
“Stop rolling your eyes at me.”
“You—”
Isaac chuckles some more, cutting me off.
Sighing into the phone, I wait until his chuckles die down.
I’m not irritated though. Not really. It’s always been like this between us. Well, at least since we were kids.
He teases me, and I pretend to be irritated or offended and try to tease him back.
It’s a game. A game I didn’t realize I missed…
“Okay,” he says, only a hint of laughter in his voice now. “You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I deny again, though I don’t know why I’m denying it so hard.
Maybe it’s because the whole situation is extremely embarrassing.
“Uh-huh, sure,” he says, not believing me.
Groaning, I admit, “I tried to call Father McCall and he didn’t pick up.”
There’s a long moment of silence. I don’t know why he’s gone quiet at first but then I realize I probably offended him by admitting I only called him because I couldn’t reach Father McCall first.
“Oh, okay,” Isaac says, his tone no longer warm. “Why are you trying to reach Father McCall?”
There are miles and miles between us, but I can feel the tension coming through the phone as if he’s standing right here in front of me.
When we were growing up, Isaac and I were very close and nearly inseparable. Sister Edna often accused us of being joined at the hip. Both orphaned and living in a remote convent, it was only natural that we would gravitate toward each other and come to rely on each other.
With no other children around, we did everything together. We played together, we learned together, and we grew together. We were together every day, nearly every minute. Being together that much, we weren’t just friends, we were practically siblings.
He’s like my brother… the only family I’ve ever had.
Sure, there were plenty of nuns around to give us attention. Nuns to scold us. Nuns to punish us, even when we didn’t deserve it. A couple of nuns could even be considered sweet and affectionate.
They never stuck around though, not long enough to become family.
Sister Edna was the only constant.
And that woman was anything and everything but affectionate.
So there was only Isaac.
Isaac who was always there for me, sticking up for me when I needed it. Isaac who isn’t cursed and couldn’t stand the way some of the nuns looked at me and treated me like I was some kind of demon.
More than one nun was sent on her way with tears in her eyes or screams pouring from her lips from one of the malicious pranks he liked to call paybacks.
The one time I tried to point out he was committing one of the seven deadly sins—wrath—he promptly corrected me. It wasn’t wrath or revenge, it was justice.
I wasn’t fully convinced that’s what it was, but he was my brother so I didn’t question him about it again.
Then the day came when Isaac turned fifteen and Father McCall came to visit the convent. We both thought he was there to celebrate Isaac’s birthday, but all he did was glare and scowl at the two of us.
He took Isaac with him when he left.
During one of my crying fits, Sister Edna took pity on me and explained it wasn’t because I’m cursed or did anything wrong.
Isaac had to go because he was becoming a man.
When I asked why becoming a man was a bad thing, she slapped me on the back of the head with a ruler and called me stupid.
I didn’t understand what she meant until I had my first period. Then everything was explained to me with painful clarity. Even if I think of him only as a brother, the Order isn’t willing to risk us becoming closer.