I do.
More than I want to admit.I remember that night behind the chapel.The brick wall at her back.Her breath against my throat.Her fingers gripping my shirt.
The electricity between us, a heartbeat from something neither of us had any right to want.But I pulled away.Because she was the Reverend’s daughter.Because I was already drowning in sin.Because he wanted me with her.And that alone could keep me from her forever.
But now the memory claws at me.But not like regret.Like grief.I jolt awake, gasping, sweat cold on my spine.
The room is dark.
Empty.
Too quiet.
I don't know what freaks me out more.That Becki is out there with Royal.Or that I don’t know how to move on while she’s here.
One thing's for sure, though.There's something in Hell.Stealing our women.
Chapter 35
Sophie
I find it buried where monsters always hide their sins in plain sight.
The desk in Mrs.Crowley’s old office looks like it hasn’t been touched in a decade, dust thick enough to choke on.But when I pick the lock and slide open the bottom drawer, something shifts.
A manila folder.Unmarked.Thin.
But somehow heavier than a ledger thick with debt.My pulse hammers.The room smells like paper, mildew, and lies.I shouldn’t be here.
Not alone.Not with Royal gone and Becki missing from her cage.Not with Legend wound so tight he’s ready to shatter.
But if I wait…if I tell myself, it’s too dangerous.
I’ll never open this.
So I do.
The first page hits me like a fist.Intake forms.Photos.Names.Girls.Dozens of them.
Some are teenagers.Some younger.Some older.All of them stamped with Pearly Gates letterhead or no letterhead at all, just signatures and records meant to make them disappear clean.
“Mission work.”
“Rehabilitation.”
“Placement.”
Lies.Every word.
Redacted documents.Thick strokes of ink hiding something uglier underneath.But the dates are clear.The patterns are clear.
Girls arrive.Girls serve.If girls leave.Girls vanish.My stomach twists so violently I grip the edge of the desk to stay upright.
Becki wasn’t lying.
Not about this.
Not about the rot spreading under this town like mold.I blink hard against the sting in my eyes.I don’t get to cry.Not now.Not when girls are suffering right under my nose.
