Page 11 of Drag You Down
I know where he is, and I know how to get to him.
The next step is to make him want me as much as I want him.
It’ll take time, but I’m patient.
At least, I’ll have to be this time.
CHAPTER 3
LEVI
Father Zachariah stares at all of us with deep disapproval.
The only light comes from the small flickering lamp. The windows are covered with thick blankets to prevent any light from seeping through, rendering this room as ominous as any pit to hell.
The penance room is still better than the basement.
The hardwood floors dig into my knees, and I clench my fists on my thighs. Eve, who’s sitting next to me, keeps her head bowed so her hair falls over her face. From behind me, I hear soft whimpers from one of the younger women.
Everybody is terrified of retribution.
All thirty-two of us have gathered here. I can hear the younger children making soft, distressed sounds, while the older ones have learned that silence is the only acceptable reaction. The mothers force the children to look down, while the men stay stoic.
I need to be stoic too.
My eyes catch on a dark red stain at the edge of the wooden slat underneath my knees.
Was that my blood?
“Which of you pulled the fire alarm?” Father Zachariah asks. “I know it must have been one of you.”
Guilt hammers in my chest. I remember deep, dark eyes, penetrating my soul.
Nobody says a word as Father Zachariah walks between our kneeling bodies.
He lifts up young Mary’s arm and rattles her. “Was it you, child?” he demands. “I know you like to play in the halls.”
“No,” she answers quickly. “Please, Father Zachariah, sir, I swear I didn’t. I would never.”
She’s only thirteen. Her blonde hair is pulled into two braids, and her eyes are wide with fear.
Father Zachariah scowls at her. “You’d never? But last week you stole Myriam’s cookies. We all know you’re driven to temptation easily.”
I purse my lips and give in to the urge to look in their direction. My sister Eve catches my gaze and shakes her head.
“I didn’t do it!” Mary cries out again. She tries to pull away from Father Zachariah, but her older brother pushes her back into her spot.
“You protest like the guilty,” Father Zachariah says. “Get up against the wall?—”
Get up against the wall and face penance.
“It was the Devil!” I yell.
Father Zachariah lets go of Mary and turns to look at me. “What?”
I straighten my shoulders and look straight ahead at the dirty white wall with its brown smudges.
Next to me, Eve goes even more still. I know she’d look at me if she could, but nobody would dare draw unnecessary attention to themselves.
