is Margaret.
They kiss again and hold each other close.
While the boy Anselm storms off. He’s seen enough. Anger pulses through his whole body. He rages to himself.
She is a sinner, he thinks. She is just like all the rest.
He decides to tell the monsignor. He decides to tell him what Sister Margaret has done. Father Meyers will punish her. He will teach her a lesson. He will give Sister Margaret what she deserves.
The boy Anselm wants her to pay.
And so he betrays her to the monsignor.
And there is no going back.
Coming out of the vision, I find myself at the basement door.
I try the handle, but the lock holds fast.
There is nothing in me now but the blind need to get free—to get away from my dad and this craziness and to run and run and run and never stop.
I put my hand on the doorknob again.
A voice whispers in my ear.
Only it’s not a voice.
It’s a memory of a voice—Rose’s words repeating over and over in my mind,
“If I had some time with you, maybe I could teach you how to control the power you have, but as it is, I’m afraid you’re in a lot of danger.”
The power I have?
What the hell does that mean?
And what did Colin say?
“Maybe you haven’t found it yet.”
But what was Colin anyway?
There’s the heat in me like oil fire burning. It’s like the fire is in my breathing. It goes from my lungs out my throat and mouth.
I try the door again.
It stays locked.
I mean, Jesus Christ, if I did have some power, wouldn’t I know about it? Other than having these visions that don’t do me any good at all. If I have some power in me, then goddammit, I need to open this door.
The fire burns through my hands and out my fingertips.
I need this door to open now.
I need to get out of this house.
I have the power to see every fucking thing that’s happened in this house.
Give me the power to get the hell out of here.
The fire burns my eyes and I have tears coming down.
I try the door.
I try the door again.
I try it again.
And then the door opens.
The fire is swallowed up in my body.
I step through the door.
The power is out and it’s all dark except for the lightning making the sky bright reflecting through the corridors of the house. I feel my way along the walls—bumping into dressers and end tables, only able to see when the lightning splits the sky wide open.
Blackness is followed by the strobe of lightning and then blackness and then lightning and then blackness. Thunder follows the lightning. The thunder makes the floorboards shudder beneath my feet. And then there is more blackness. And then lightning. And then blackness.
I reach the corner of the hall where I turn and feel my way down toward the front door. The rain is like a war being fought on all sides. The wind is like the howling of wolves after a kill. The thunder sets my teeth chattering.
The lightning strikes.
I see the silhouette of a crouched figure moving.
It is far away, down the end of the hall.
In the drowning blackness I call out, “Hello?”
Thunder takes the words from me.
I walk slowly toward what I cannot see.
And like a camera flashbulb popping, the hallway ignites with a lightning strike. And then I see my dad’s face. His eyes are wide open and darting in every direction. Blood, dark and syrupy, is streaked across his mouth and dripping down his chin. He brings his arm up, his hand holding a knife with a long, curved blade covered in more black blood.
Then there is the dark.
It comes rushing in around me.
The thunder wrenches a sob from me as I startle and gasp for breath.
I hear the heavy blows and my father speaking in a whisper—very fast, like he’s speaking in tongues.
I wait.
The lightning ignites the sky.
Bleeding out on the hardwood floor, Sheriff Jarrett lies unconscious, his eyes rolled back so only the whites are showing, his mouth gaping. My dad buries the knife deep in his chest.
I can’t hold my scream back.
My dad’s eyes fix on me and he removes the knife again and begins to stand. I turn and run as fast as I can, my lungs straining for breath. I hit a table and go down but then am up again and running faster—my way lit only by the lightning. I don’t stop. I reach the stairs and run up them, sprinting,