Sinful Purity (Sinful Series) (10 page)

Héritier d’enfants disparus
Quatre ans, héritier de la LeFluer Chateau fortune a disparu.
Les autorités soupçonnent un acte criminel.

The article was torn out, making it obvious that much of it was missing. Along with the remnants of the cryptic French article were four receipts for twenty thousand dollars each. Each receipt was blank except for the dollar amount and Sister Christine’s signature to acknowledge receipt.

“I don’t understand. This can’t be my folder, Brett. It doesn’t make any sense. I’m not French. I’ve never even been out of the state, let alone to Europe. I don’t speak French or look French. And why would anyone pay eighty thousand dollars to leave me in this dump?”

“Hey, I didn’t say this was your file, only that it had your birthday on it,” Brett said defensively.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Brett reached out and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “I took a little French when I was first in high school. As far I can understand the article says that a child went missing. An heir to some fortune and the police are involved.”

“I appreciate your help. But that’s not me. I really thought we’d find something. Anything would have been nice after the risk we’ve taken even being here. I’m just a little ticked off, that’s all. Can we get outta here now, please?”

“No problem. Let me just get this cabinet locked back up. Did you clean up your mess over there?” He gestured to Sister Christine’s desk.

“Yeah, I think everything is put back. As much as I can remember, anyway,” I admitted, defeated by our failure.

Brett and I snuck out of the office undetected, as quietly as we had entered. Mass at St. Matthew’s was just letting out. What perfect timing, I thought. A few more minutes and we’d surely have been discovered.

Brett’s demeanor suddenly appeared mournful. “I’m sorry, Liz, but I really have to go. I have a lot of packing to do.”

“It’s okay,” I assured, hanging my head, the self-pity already settling in.

“I’m really sorry we didn’t find more. But think about my offer, okay? You’d love California.”

“Okay,” I conceded, lost in my own self-pity. Yeah, right, like that was ever going to happen.

Brett gave me a huge hug, lifting me off the ground. Then he kissed me ever so quickly, this time on the lips. I was sure that, like me, Brett thought we’d never see each other again, so why the hell not kiss me goodbye? He let me back down to the ground and swept the hair out of my eyes with his finger.

“Oh, Liz. I almost forgot. I found this up in the warden’s office.” He pulled a small, folded piece of paper from the front pocket of his jeans. “I don’t know what it is. It looks like a contract or something. There were a bunch of them in an unmarked folder up there. I know it’s not about you, but I thought you might want to take a look anyway. Don’t worry, she’ll never miss it.” He slid the paper into the front pocket of my jeans. His words completely evaporated as I felt his hand slide down my hip and into my pocket, sending a shiver of emotion through my body.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll take a look,” I replied calmly, trying not to let my ecstasy show.

Brett turned and walked off across the courtyard, only turning back once he reached the gates. “Think about it, okay?” he yelled.

I nodded and waved. Yeah, I’d be thinking about it. About all of it—the previous night, Confirmation, the Perkinses, Brett holding me while I slept, the failed break-in, and all the questions that still lingered. I’d be thinking of all of it. My mind lingered on Brett’s admission. He and Kelly were leaving. I was never going to see them again. I knew that I would never make it out to California, that my life was forever intertwined with MIQ and St. Matthew’s. I was sure Brett knew it as well. He was just being nice, following protocol by inviting me.

Monday arrived soon enough. Today would be the day that decided the course of my future. The day I had my meeting with Mother Superior and Father Brennigan. Just like a child being called into the principal’s office, I fidgeted, filled with dread. This time would be different, I told myself. This time
I
had requested the meeting, not the other way around. I assured myself that I wanted this. Above all else, I wanted this, needed this. I was not here to receive my punishment or have my character belittled. That was, unless they knew about my unauthorized activities yesterday. Trepidation filled my body. Maybe they did know. Was it so outlandish to conceive that Father Brennigan and Sister Christine would play along with the charade? For the opportunity to watch me writhe in my own guilt and discomfort in the very room where I’d committed the abhorrent act? No,
that was preposterous. However, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed not only plausible but also likely.

I imagined the way the capture would play out. Sister Christine would walk in, Father Brennigan trailing behind her. She would say something like, “Good morning, Mary Elizabeth. How can we be of service today?” Then she’d sit down behind her ransacked desk, folding her hands knowingly on the stack of once neatly organized papers, strumming her fingers, waiting for me to confess my transgression.

Then Father Brennigan would cut the game short by saying, “Come now, ladies, no need for theatrics. We know what you’ve done, Mary Elizabeth. But why?” All sad and hurt, like my wrongdoing was a personal attack against him and the kindness he had always shown me.

The thought of his face broken, pleading for understanding, standing in front of me innocent and vulnerable, almost saintly…I imagined I could hear his heart break like a plate smashing to the floor. How could I have done this? How could I have done this to the only people who had ever taken care of me? I imagined Sister Christine taunting Father. Rubbing it in about how I was his favorite. How wrong he had been about me. Maybe they’d even have a bet going. A bet to see how I’d turn out, and Father Brennigan had picked the losing side. I could visualize him pulling a twenty out of his pocket to pay his debt. I’d see his humiliated face defeated by reality as he handed Sister Christine the money.

My agonizing rendition of the upcoming events was well underway when the two main players entered, taking their spots for the performance. As Sister Christine began to speak I thought,
Oh my God, here it comes
.

“Good morning, Mary Elizabeth,” she said, taking her seat just as I’d predicted.

“Hello, Sister, hello, Father,” I began.

“It was a beautiful day yesterday, wasn’t it? I hope you did something enjoyable,” Father Brennigan remarked.

My mind raced.
Oh, my. This is really going to happen.
I braced myself for the worst. “Yes, I enjoyed the sunlight very much. Thank you, Father.” It wasn’t a complete fabrication. I really had enjoyed the warm sun radiating down upon me before my unscrupulous escapade.

“Well, good. Then let’s get down to it, shall we?” Father remarked casually, looking toward Sister Christine.

“Oh. Well. I requested your audience so that I may speak with you about…” My words, weak and nervous, were cut off by Sister Christine’s stronger, more assertive interjection.

“I am well aware of your reasons, Mary,” she said, clasping her hands like in my vision. “You have been here with us longer than any other ward of MIQ. Which leaves us in a very new and uncertain arena. We have never had the burden of seeing a student into adulthood. Nearly all of our charges leave us when they are still children. Their new families introduce them to the world.” Sister’s words were stern, leaving a stinging sensation that I couldn’t quite describe.

“Well, Mother, I wouldn’t say burden,” corrected Father Brennigan, trying to anesthetize the wound.

“Fine, well,” Sister Christine continued, unwavering. “Father Brennigan and I have consulted at great length. We have decided that you are highly gifted intellectually and mature enough for your age to attend university.”

The words rang out with such force, I felt my knees grow weak and my vision blur.
Don’t pass out
, I ordered myself. Regaining some clarity, I edged my way to the small chair in the corner, not at all fearful this time of sitting in front of my lifelong tormenter.

“I have permission?” I asked gingerly.

“Of course, my dear, you have permission,” Father Brennigan boomed.

“Yes, well, there are many details we must work out,” Mother Superior said. “You will have to continue to help out here. Your duties will remain largely unchanged.” She was much more reserved than Father Brennigan. As I glanced over at Father, he looked more like a proud parent than the pastor of a neighboring church.

“Will I be able to live off-premises? On campus, maybe?” I asked, doubting that I was going to be given that much freedom.

“Yes,” Mother Superior answered quickly, looking decidedly at Father Brennigan.

I couldn’t believe all my dreams were coming true. Sister Christine must have wanted me gone more than I thought. I was amazed that she was giving up her reins so easily. I was sure she would torture a few more years of servitude out of me.

“Well, wait, dear. Don’t get too excited,” Father said. “Not only will you have your duties here for Mother, you will also be expected to put in quite a few hours over at St. Matthew’s. That is, if St. Matthew’s is going
to be giving you that scholarship.” Father’s face beamed with excitement. I imagined a new parent watching their child open her first presents at Christmas.

Father Brennigan had just given me the best gift ever. Not only was I allowed to leave MIQ, I would be allowed to attend university, an opportunity I had longed for all my life. To top it off, St. Matthew’s would foot the bill. The excitement I felt radiated through my body and across my face.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” I cried, losing all sense of decorum.

“Yes, well, Father Brennigan will go over the conditions with you. I have work to do,” Mother Superior retorted, void of any real feeling. She gestured to the door, a nonverbal request for us to leave her.

As I walked out, I glanced back to thank her again before shutting the door. I saw her rifling around on her desk as if she was in search of something, something she couldn’t find. My mind quickly raced back to my disrespectful assault on her desk. I jerked my head back around to view my escape route and quietly pulled her office door shut. I thought it better not to interrupt her search and attract attention to myself.

Father Brennigan and I exited into the courtyard. He continued to describe the details of my release. None of them were anything I didn’t expect. The conditions were simple: I must continue to work at the orphanage and St. Matthew’s. I must attend Mass weekly, including confession. I must be a good student and a good Catholic. In exchange, I would be permitted to stay on campus during the term and during the Christmas and Easter breaks. Arrangements for the summer had yet to be decided and partly hinged on my being able to secure some form of financial support. Father Brennigan wasn’t completely against my getting a part-time job, but I would have to prove that my responsibilities at MIQ and the church, along with my studies, were not too demanding.

Father Brennigan appeared to be genuinely happy for me. He must have wanted me to be happy as much as I wanted it for myself. After all, he had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange everything for me. Surprisingly, he never asked what I planned to study. Father knew I had a passion for the written word; maybe he just assumed I would choose literature. He did ask that I take some theology courses at the university. I didn’t mind his request. Religion had always been a massive part of my life. Plus, the nearby university I would be attending had a Catholic foundation. Being founded a couple hundred years ago by Franciscans, I was sure the university probably
already required at least a year or two of religious studies. Part of me surmised that Father Brennigan held out hope that I would return to Mary Immaculate Queen after graduation as a teacher or even a nun. Regardless, I knew he never had any intention of fully letting me go.

When I got back to my room, I couldn’t concentrate at all. My mind was racing and swerving like a high-speed car thief trying to evade the police. So much had happened in the last couple of days. I knew that eventually I would have to stop and try to piece everything together. But right now I just couldn’t. I was immersed in blissful confusion. I danced about my room, picking up this and moving that, more in nervous action rather than a productive cleaning of my room. I straightened my bed, secured my unauthorized reading material safely in its secret crevice beneath the floorboards. It was only as I went to retrieve my dirty clothes from their peaceful resting place on the floor that I remembered the paper Brett had tucked in my pocket. I grabbed it out and unfolded it. Brett was right, it was just a blank adoption contract from MIQ. Of course there wasn’t one of these in my file. Hell, if I even had a file. We hadn’t really found anything. What we had found made no sense and was undoubtedly not my file, although it did have my date of birth on it. I folded the paper back up and tucked it inside the cover of my Bible. I figured I’d look it over again if I had the chance. There really wasn’t much point in it anyway.

My mind raced back to my promised parole. My freedom had been pledged to me. I wished that Kelly or Brett were here so that I could tell them. But they were gone. My heart sank, but only momentarily. The revelation of my going off to college was more than exciting enough to brighten my spirits. Never before had I so much hope for the future. I permitted my mind to wander, envisaging my new life, the university, the classes, my dorm room—it was the best fantasy I’d ever had. I tried to imagine the feel of being on the other side of MIQ’s iron gates, being able to walk down the street and keep walking. It was the perfect fantasy, one I never wanted to end.

The weeks that passed turned into months. Before I knew it, summer was nearly over and August was more than halfway through. All the arrangements of my departure had been finalized. My things were now packed. Come Monday morning, I would be a college freshman, living outside the confines of MIQ and away from the sisters’ prying eyes. For the first time in my life, I had a chance to be normal.