Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Gabriel? Come see this!”
She always tried to protect him from Sister Beatrice and managed to do so without antagonizing the nun. Bless her kind heart.
The truth about his past had awakened a monster deep inside Gabriel, but this wasn’t the time to let it run wild, so he marched toward his former teacher with words of anger burning at the back of his throat. “Good morning.”
“She’s in a foul mood today,” Mrs. Knight whispered to him. “Best steer clear. But I did actually want to show you something.” She led him from the bushes and down a rhubarb patch. The leaves were half eaten in many places.
Gabriel kneeled on the ground. “Oh no! What happened?”
“Some kind of pest. Who knows? What counts is that it’s not locusts. Everything else we can deal with.”
Gabriel’s throat dried, because Mrs. Knight saying that when the Lord of Locusts himself was around made for the creepiest synchronicity.
Mrs. Knight’s soft face twisted, which created more wrinkles, but the signs of worry were gone when a small shadow obscured the rhubarb. “What is it, Maddie?”
Gabriel froze, for a moment unsure whether he should even turn his head to acknowledge the child, He’d been labeled unfit to interact with the orphans for so long that he’d almost believed it himself, but the truth was now out, and if a monster like Sister Beatrice could be here then so could he.
The girl was small, and while he had too little contact with kids to assess her age from size and speech, he guessed that she was around ten, not much younger than he had been when his life had been sacrificed in the name of a blasphemous ritual. Dressed in orange sweats with a cartoon pig at the front of her top, she looked innocent despite the worry marring her sweet features.
“Um… you are the cook, right?” she asked, twisting the front of her sweatshirt.
Gabriel smiled and scooted to be at her eye level. “I do work in the kitchen, yes.” He was aware of Mrs. Knight watching him, but she didn’t scold him. Maybe she, out of all the people working here, understood that the only one he’d ever endangered had been himself.
The girl bit her lip. “Um… and you make food for everyone here?”
“Yes, do you have a special request?”
She shook her head, making her two ponytails shake. “No, but my friend Ella and five other children are gone. Have they been adopted? I just want to make sure they get dinner too.”
“Maddie,” Mrs. Knight pulled the girl close. “I told you they got a virus and needed to be isolated in a clinic for some time. I’m sure they will be back with you soon.”
Breath caught in Gabriel’s throat. So it was beginning already. His own memories were a blur, but he recalled being separated at some point and forced to fast… “I will make sure they are treated to the best food,” he said with a stiff smile before adding. “I hear they’re doing great. They’ll be back with you in no time.”
This time, no child would get hurt. Not on his watch.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Despite all the confidence he’d recently gained, Sister Beatrice’s voice still hit him like a lash, and he stepped back in time to avoid colliding with her. The nun grabbed the little girl by the hand and roughly pulled her away. “Have you already forgotten what you’ve all been told about talking to strange men?”
“But… Mrs. Knight is here,” Maddie protested, opening her mouth wide enough to show the gaps in her teeth.
If glances could cut, both Gabriel and Mrs. Knight would have long bled out into the soil. “Mrs. Knight also ought to know better. And you should be watering the plots,” Sister Beatrice said, pulling the poor girl away.
Once the devil in nun’s clothes had gone, Gabriel cleared his throat and looked at Mrs. Knight, ready to ask her about something that had been on his mind for a while now.
“You wouldn’t happen to recall what happened to a friend of mine from before my incident? He was called Harry.” And should be alive, unlike the other four souls tortured and murdered before Gabriel’s unexpected amnesty.
The teacher’s mouth curved into a soft smile. “Yes, the only one to survive that terrible car accident where four other children died,” she said, clearly too good-natured to not notice the connection between a set of six kids being taken away a decade prior and the ‘sickness’ that required putting the same number of students in isolation. “Dark hair.”
“Do you remember his last name? I was wondering what happened to him, to maybe reconnect over this experience we’ve had together.” His palms were getting clammy just thinking about it.
She played with the rim of her straw hat. “Hmm… I don’t recall, I’m afraid, but I’ll see if I can find out what happened to him.”