Lessons in Sin - Pam Godwin Page 0,48

in her arms, she laughed, a gloriously musical sound that coursed warmth through my chest.

The opossums climbed to her shoulders and clung from her wet hair, leaving no doubt that these were the critters she called Jaden and Willow.

A shocking amount of relief settled over me as I met Felix’s cloudy eyes.

“I have a theory, Father.” He handed over the duffel bag and grabbed the shoebox, tucking it under his arm. “But you’re not going to like it.”

“I’m listening.” I removed a blanket from the bag and draped it over Tinsley’s shoulders.

Her gaze stayed with the opossums, but I knew she was listening, too.

“There’s been a lot of roadkill between here and the neighboring towns. Lots of opossums.” He stared at his wet boots and grimaced. “Seeing how it’s Monday and the students had visitors over the weekend, it’s an easy assumption that someone collected what’s in this shoebox and brought it onto the campus. Looks to me like these”—he tapped the shoebox—“were hit by a car.”

“I know who put it in my room.” Tinsley growled in her throat. Hot-tempered without being vindictive. Soft and fierce and elfish. Enchanting.

“We’ll talk about it when I do a full investigation.” I turned to Felix. “You found her opossums near the north wall?”

“Yeah. They’re trying to get out but don’t know how to breach the electric fence. Opossums are travelers, never sticking around the same place too long. I know you’ve grown attached, Miss Constantine, but we can’t keep them here.”

“I know.” She gently stroked the creatures, smiling.

I’d never seen her demeanor in such a state of calm serenity. I didn’t want to chance another death with those animals and watch her go through what she’d suffered tonight.

“Do you think they’d be safe in Cypress Lake State Park?” I asked Felix.

“That’s where I would take them. It’s far enough away from the main roads. They’ll head into the mountains.”

“Thanks for your help, Felix.”

He wished us goodnight and left the church with the shoebox.

I met Tinsley’s eyes. “You up for a drive?”

She returned a look of surprise.

I’d never taken a student off the property. Her mother expressly forbade it, and the rulebook stated that no student could leave without approval.

Since I was that approval and Caroline had put her in my charge, all else was moot.

“Yes.” She grinned mischievously. “I’d love that.”

CHAPTER 18

MAGNUS

By the time we stepped outside, the storm had moved on, leaving a frigid chill in the air that would work well to clear my head.

Carrying the blankets, I led Tinsley to my car. An old base-model sedan. No options. The lowest of the low. Nothing like the luxury cars I’d owned in New York.

The tin box was perfect for me.

She didn’t spare it a glance as she slid into the front seat. The opossums absorbed her full attention.

During the drive, she petted and played with their ears and tails. I left her to it, knowing these were her final moments with them.

Twenty minutes later, I parked along the gravel path that led to the entrance of the state park.

“Ready?” I twisted in the dark to face her.

She stared down at the animals on her lap. Her chest lifted with a heavy inhale, but she didn’t cry. Instead, she nodded, and a tiny smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.

Wrapped in blankets and escorted by the moonlight, we stepped onto the path in our soggy shoes and icy clothes. My breath formed puffs of white vapor, and my fingers were so cold they’d gone numb. But I was at ease. Unburdened. Peaceful.

This deep, genuine sense of happiness was new to me. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so content.

It had everything to do with her.

In the space of six weeks, she’d become a coveted presence. I eagerly awaited every word from her mouth. Looked forward to seeing the ferocity in her eyes. Counted down the seconds until she punched back with another witty retort.

As she lowered the opossums to the ground and coaxed them into the woods, I realized this was the side of her I cherished the most.

With her guard down and her soft underbelly exposed, she was an angel beyond her astral form. Her power came from her inner grace and compassion. When she wasn’t trying to raise hell in my classroom, she was innately, wholly, profoundly pure of heart.

Where I was a cold and empty house of bones, she was a vast meadow aglow with lemon-scented blooms and honeybees.

She was everything I wasn’t.

I’d never been so taken with a