The conference was still going on when they arrived at the headmistress’s office. Atticus and Jericho were having an awkward staredown with Sister Josephine, while Thomas stood in the corner, arms crossed, studying the woman down like he was evaluating her performance. They weren’t alone. Another set of parents sat beside two empty chairs that August assumed were reserved for them. They appeared to be around Lucas’s age, both impeccably dressed, not a hair out of place.
Their children sat in their Halloween costumes, lined up on the antique gold sofa like perfect little angels, along with another child who sat with her arms crossed looking just as put out as Atticus, as if she too had been called away from important business. August didn’t know her, but her costume matched the twins. He wasn’t sure if it was a sign of friendship or a poorly-timed coincidence.
“Where’s Alister?” Lucas asked, a thread of worry creeping back into his tone.
“I had Aiden take him home with Theo, Oscar, and West,” Thomas said.
Lucas’s shoulders sagged, nodding toward Thomas, his gratitude obvious. The tightness in his face softened for the first time since the tunnel, like a string finally slackening.
As soon as Lucas and August took their seats beside Atticus and Jericho, Lucas leaned toward Atticus and asked, “What’d they do now?”
“I don’t know, she refused to tell us until you arrived,” Atticus stage-whispered back, glowering at the woman, who responded with an icy smile.
The couple beside them watched Sister Josephine warily.
Another woman hovered behind her, in her civilian clothes and veil just like Sister Josephine. They’d long ago given up thetraditional habit that was mandatory in August and Atticus’s time at St. Aggie’s.
“This is Sister Mary Elizabeth. She’s new, therefore, she wasn’t aware of the Mulvaney”—she glanced at Thomas—“legacy.”
“What did they do?” Thomas asked, voice steely. “We’ve been waiting to hear for almost an hour now.”
Sister Josephine gave each of the children a withering look before turning to their parents. “They attempted to perform an exorcism.”
The woman beside them gasped, while her husband gave a sigh like he’d known this was coming.
It was Jericho who spoke first. “Come again?”
“They were attempting to perform an exorcism,” she repeated slowly, like they were daft.
“Yes, we heard you the first time,” Atticus said. “I believe my husband was asking for clarification. What exactly does that entail?”
Sister Josephine steepled her fingers, leaning forward. “They had another student in the chapel, lying on the altar while chanting at him in Latin while sprinkling him with holy water.”
“Is that all?” August asked, relieved to hear it was something so mundane.
“Is that all?” Sister Mary Elizabeth gasped. “What do you mean?”
“Yes, what do you mean?” the other student’s mother asked.
“Was your child the demon in question?” August asked, tone bland.
She gave him an affronted look. “Excuse me?”
“Mrs. Jones, please calm down,” Sister Josephine said.
“Yeah, Cherice. Calm down,” the man—presumably Mr. Jones—said.
Cherice did not, in fact, calm down. “Calm down? Our child was participating in an exorcism.” She gave him a look that screamed danger to everybody in the room, scoffing before muttering under her breath, “Tell me to calm down again and see what happens.”
“Babe—” the man said.
“Don’t you babe me,” she said. “Now, hush.”
The man shook his head, looking at her pleadingly. “They’re second graders. It wasn’t an orgy.” To Sister Josephine, he asked, “Can we speed this up? The Tokyo market opens at eight p.m. I have clients who aren’t going to care that my child got a little too caught up in a children’s game.”
“Tyrell Jones, don’t you dare call an exorcism a children’s game, or I will have my father call the Archdiocese and request the next exorcism be yours,” she snapped, clutching her Chanel bag closer to her chest like a security blanket.
The man’s name sounded familiar. He was clearly a foreign trader. A good one, if they could afford to send their child to St. Agnes. August assessed their attire in a moment, two-thousand-dollar shoes, eight-thousand-dollar handbag, Burberry coat, Gucci scarf. They didn’t just have money, but pull too, if her father could personally contact the archdiocese.
