question is … who and where is number seven?
Chapter 17
Eli
“YARGGHH!” The voice shrieks, and all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight.
I throw the palms of my hands up against my ears and grumble to myself. The instruction manual on my lap is of no use if I cannot read it in peace and quiet.
When the yelps have stopped again, I sigh out loud and lower my hands so I can continue reading. There’s much work to be done, and I will need my father's teachings to know what to do.
Another scream has me sitting straight up in the chair. The book tumbles from my hand onto the floor.
“Soren!” I yell.
My eyes roll into the back of my head. The painful howls of the man are too hard to ignore, so I get up and march out of my study and head straight into the dungeon just beyond the corridors behind the stairs.
It’s dark and damp in this place with only light bulb fixtures to illuminate the brick walls and ceilings, and I’d barely find my way around if it wasn’t for those incessant cries of pain guiding my way.
When I finally get to the chamber I’m looking for, I fish my key from my pocket and ram it into the lock, kicking the door open as fast as I can.
Soren’s whip stops midair, splattering blood across the wall. His body blocks my view, but I know exactly what he’s doing.
“Can you please stop the noise?” I growl. “I’m trying to read.”
Soren merely replies with a grunt.
“Thanks,” I reply, and as I close the door again, another THWACK sound follows, but no more cries.
Good. I don’t like being interrupted, especially not when I’m trying to figure out what to do.
Because no one else before me has done what I’ve done. No man has ever contemplated, let alone tried, to bring in a sinner who wasn’t sent to us.
But I did. And now I don’t know what to do with her.
The answer seems simple, but it never really is. Because for a sinner to be redeemed, there must be one to judge. There must be forgiveness. But who am I to forgive her for a sin she did not commit against me?
The other girls … they have family who sent them here. Parents. Grandparents. Aunts. Friends. Foes. Someone who thought they needed this in order to redeem themselves.
But not Amelia. No one is waiting for her to apologize. How in the world am I going to trigger her to confess?
I return to my study and sit back down in my chair, rubbing my eyebrows. There must be someone in the history of this House who has done the same, right? But no matter how many books I read about our family, the more I’m lost to the question I don’t have the answers to. Because what do you do with a sinner who cannot even remember her own sin? Let alone the fact that she wasn’t sent … she was invited. She said yes because deep down, she knew she had to … even if she cannot remember why.
But I will help her.
It’s what I do best.
Twelve years ago
The first day I was allowed to go down the stairs into the cellar made my heart pump so hard it felt like it would burst out of my chest.
For years, my father had been teasing me with hints of what went on down there. Because I was too young, he never fully disclosed what his job was. Whatever happened behind closed doors stayed there even though I could always hear the groaning, the cries, and the whispers.
They lured me again and again to come and have a peek, but the minute I did, Father’s guards would be there to keep me from trying.
And now the day has finally arrived that I get to join my father in his work. The one thing our family has been doing for centuries. Divine work, he calls it, and the responsibility of it has been handed down from generation to generation.
And I can’t help but feel as though it is finally my time to shine. My time to learn what hides behind these thick, wooden doors.
I pause in front of the stairs, the guards eyeing me up as though they’re reminding me that my father can take back permission at any time, and they will intervene. I must do everything I can to ensure my father is content with me.
Just as he