The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,28

returns to his seat as Reuben slips out the door.

It’s as if the provost had already forgotten Reuben was here. I’m not surprised; despite his size Reuben makes less noise than a cat, especially on these carpets. Is he one of the kids that have been at Saint Amos for so long he’s just another gear in the machine?

“Well, it’s still early days, of course, but I really do think teaching is something I’d like to do.”

Gabriel takes a sip of his wine. Where my plate is practically splitting under the weight of all the food he piled on it, there’s oceans of white china between his servings. I’ve never seen a chicken breast look so lonely before.

“You should attempt a full class during summer break.”

I almost drop my fork. “Yeah. I’ll look into that.” I gulp at my soda and try to think of something to change the subject again.

My only intention is to score brownie points. But if I’m not careful, I’ll have agreed to run a summer class for half the school before dinner is over.

“Does the school host anything fun during summer break?” I ask before shoving a fork full of food into my mouth.

Gabriel shakes his head, and then frowns up at me. He tuts quietly. “That’s right. I must have forgotten to mention it. Saint Amos is closing over summer break. First time in almost five years, actually.”

Closing?

Closing!

“Closing how?” I sit back in my seat. He wasn’t wrong about my appetite—it comes and goes with my mood. I never eat when I’m uneasy, and for some reason his announcement fills me with dread.

“The students are leaving.” Gabriel chews on a piece of chicken for a moment, looking thoughtful. He washes it down with a sip of wine and then puts down his cutlery. “We have extensive maintenance work to undertake. Several sections of the building will be cordoned off. It’s just safer to send the students away until we reopen in the fall.”

I put my cutlery down too. “Where are they going?”

“Some of our students are going home, or visiting extended family. The rest will be boarding at Sisters of Mercy in Devon.”

Those that don’t have homes.

“Like me?”

He nods. “Maybe you’ll like it so much you decide to stay.”

I swallow down more soda, but my mouth is still dry.

I’ve been codependent my entire life. I didn’t have a choice, really. Not with parents who refused to send me to a regular school. The thought of what Father Gabriel’s telling me sets my heart to racing.

“But I can stay here if I want?”

“Not during the break, but if you decide to return with the other students…” he spreads his hands, that absent smile of his not shifting one iota.

Then he pushes away his plate in favor of nursing his glass of wine. He takes a few sips as I try to get back into my meal, but it’s impossible with him watching.

After a minute or so, he stands and goes over to the fireplace. He keeps his back to me as he lights a cigarette and takes a long drag.

“I’m not pushing you away, Trinity.” He turns, smoke jettisoning from his nose. “I just want you to be happy. You’re not happy here.”

I hastily swallow. “But I am, Father. Really, I am.”

“Don’t lie to me, child.” He puts his head to the side, his smile turning hard. “I know it can’t be easy, a girl—woman—like you—” he points at me with the hand holding his cigarette “—surrounded by men.”

What the hell am I supposed to say to that? It feels like a trap, like he wants me to admit I can’t make it. That I want him to treat me like the friend I thought I was. That I need him to make an exception for the poor little girl who just lost her parents.

“I know these boys too well.” He runs his fingers through his hair, takes another drag. His exhale obscures the fire for a moment. “So many troubled youths beneath this roof, Trinity. It would turn your hair white to hear their stories.” He reaches out and flicks his cigarette ash into the ashtray.

“I know it won’t be easy,” I say as I slowly get to my feet. I hesitate, and then join him by the fire. “But…”

Lord, why is this so difficult to say?

“You’re all I have left.”

He glances at me for a second before his eyes go back to the fire. “You know that’s not true, Trinity.”

My chest fills with