The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,6

even been overseas with him more than once. They would stay away for up to months at a time. Dad always seemed different when he came back, but I could never figure out why.

I guess spreading the gospel changes you.

“Judging from your grades, your parents did an excellent job homeschooling you.” Gabriel chuckles. “Our classes are slightly larger, but trust me, your academics won’t suffer. We have excellent teachers. Some of them past students, in fact.”

Dad taught me scripture. Mom taught me everything else. But I don’t say anything—I’ve never been one to pick a fight.

We descend a stairwell and arrive in a vast hallway. Several yards away, it ends in a set of double doors. Through the small windows set in them, I can make out a bustle of activity beyond.

The dining hall? My stomach grumbles. When was the last time I ate something? It might have been yesterday, but I can’t remember if it was breakfast or lunch. They’d served supper on the train last night, but I’d been too nervous to eat anything.

I start forward, expecting Father Gabriel to move ahead. I come up short when he grasps my elbow and gently turns me around to face him.

My chest grows tight at the look on his face. “What?” I ask quietly.

He releases me and grasps his hands in front of him.

I know Father Gabriel well. He looks older today. He’s still far from an old man, but his face has lost some of its youthful glow.

“Anyone can lose their faith, Trinity.” Tiny creases form at the corners of his eyes. “It happens so quickly. So, so easily. But that’s exactly what the devil wants.”

My chest closes. I can’t speak, or think, or breathe. Pressure builds behind my eyes as Father Gabriel presses his mouth into a thin line.

“We can never comprehend the full extent of God’s plan. Especially if we turn our back on Him during difficult times.”

Difficult times?

Sadness turns to anger. The pressure is still there, scalding my eyeballs. Moisture builds, but these aren’t tears of mourning.

These are tears of rage.

Not the first I’ve shed. I’m sure not the last.

There are so many things I want to say to Father Gabriel right now. Bad things. Blasphemous things.

Hussy.

But I don’t.

If he senses my anger, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“One last stop before lunch,” he says as he sweeps out an arm. “In case you ever need to get something off your chest.”

There’s a small alcove a few feet away. The arched door set within has a brass crucifix hanging at eye level.

Father Gabriel opens the door, revealing darkness beyond.

He steps inside.

I can either follow or stay out here, stranded and alone. As much as I want to fade into the shadows, I’m done with being alone.

I trust Gabriel.

I know he wouldn’t allow harm to come to me.

I follow him inside despite my tight chest and my pounding heart and my dry mouth.

I follow him into the darkness, and it swallows me whole.

Chapter Four

Trinity

Candles emerge from the gloom once my eyes have adjusted to the low light. They don’t do a good job of illuminating this place—but there isn’t much for them to light up anyway.

This is the tiniest chapel I’ve ever seen. The nave consists of six short pews, three a side, with a narrow aisle leading to the chancel.

The person on his knees in front of the altar seems too big and brawny for this intimate space.

Candle flames flicker as we move deeper inside.

As if sensing us, the figure in front bows his head a little deeper and slowly gets to his feet.

“My apologies for interrupting, Reuben.”

The figure turns.

I thought it had been a man, perhaps another priest, but as the flames light the stranger’s face, I realize he’s a kid like me.

Okay, kid isn’t the right word. Young man works better. He couldn’t be more than a year or two older than me, but he’s tall and broad and the darkness in his eyes doesn’t come solely from this shadowy room.

He’s dressed like Jasper was, but without the blazer. On him, his dress shirt skims defined muscles and his collar hugs a thick neck. The top button of his shirt is undone, and his tie slightly loosened, as if he was getting hot.

Unlike Jasper, he’s handsome as hell.

I suddenly feel much too small for my age.

“Trinity, this is Reuben. He’s in the same grade as you.”

“Hi,” I manage, although I doubt he can hear my whisper all of a yard away.

His dark eyes take me in,