The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,25

at the rows of boys. Sister Miriam pops in on our meals as randomly as if she’s doing a spot check. The boys seem to have developed a sixth sense around it. Seconds before the dining room doors or kitchen doors swing open, the entire hall hushes.

As soon as Miriam’s walked up and down a few times, she leaves. Seconds later, noise levels return to normal.

Maybe I can get the hang of this place. It can’t be that hard—not if all these boys manage to coexist.

I don’t have Psych today, and that suits me fine. If I did, I’d probably sprain my ankle on the way to Zachary’s class and arrive late…again. Heaven knows what penance he’ll assign me.

Is he the kind of teacher that would go old school and draw me over his knee? I don’t think that shit’s allowed anymore, but Jasper didn’t look like he was kidding about getting lashes.

I head to my room just before three. I don’t want Jasper to wait for me in case he loses his nerve and bails on our first lesson. Honestly, I’m a bit nervous. I paid close attention today in each of my classes, trying to figure out if there was anything specific I needed to do if I was going to start teaching. But nothing really jumped out at me, so I’m going into this blind.

“Not here,” Jasper says as soon as he steps into the room.

“Oh, okay.” I stand up, my notebook and math textbook pressed to my chest. “Then where—?”

“Library.” He flicks his fingers, and I follow him.

He leads me out the building and across the grounds. I slow down when I realize where he’s headed.

“That’s where the library is?”

“Relax. It’s not haunted or anything.”

“But…”

Who in their right mind puts a library in a cemetery? Thankfully, our path doesn’t lead us too close to the gravesides, but it’s still eerie having to walk within sight of the gravestones.

The inside of the crypt is emptier than I thought. There are some chairs in the center, as if this place is used for bible study groups or AA meetings. Most of the space is filled with columns.

He leads me to the back of the enormous room and then down a circular stairwell. When I clear the stairs, I pause for a second to gape.

This chamber is huge. It’s not in a cross shape like the crypt, so I’m pretty sure it extends beyond the upper building’s walls.

I guess they didn’t have enough dead bodies to put in here, so they decided to use it as a library instead.

Row upon row of books line the walls and form narrow aisles. Closer to the stairwell are two sections with overstuffed chairs and sofas for people to read or study. A few feet away is a podium with a large, leather-bound bible on it. A spotlight set in the ceiling illuminates it. Dust motes disturbed by our presence catch fire in that beam of light.

It’s so quiet down here.

As if the books are all waiting for something…or someone.

I guess the only thing a book ever wants is to be read. It’s sad to think no one ever comes down here—that’s obvious by the film of dust on everything and the staleness in the air. If I ran a place like this, I’d make sure it was clean and filled with curious minds.

“We’ve only got an hour,” Jasper says.

“Sorry.” I run my hands down my thighs, grimacing at the touch of the coarse fabric. “Just…taking it all in.”

He takes a seat on one of the couches and leans back, watching me expectantly. “Do that on your own time.”

I roll my eyes as I take a seat on the chair closest to him.

Lord, I hope this isn’t a big waste of time.

Chapter Thirteen

Trinity

I’m in the laundry room, suds up to my elbows, when a boy comes inside and walks straight up to me. He’s young, perhaps no older than thirteen.

“Father Gabriel is looking for you,” he says.

“Now? I thought he said I’m having dinner with him.”

The boy frowns at me. “It is dinner.”

I must have lost track of time. There’s no bell until six again, and the last one signaled the end of my lesson with Jasper. I snort quietly to myself as I flick suds off my arm and start rolling down the sleeves of my dress.

Lesson?

What a joke.

Teaching Jasper had been like trying to talk to a tree. He moved about like he had ants in his pants, but from his