"That scholarship was my only way out, when that professor sabotaged me, he stole so much more than he realized." She shook her head. "Or maybe he did know, maybe he knew exactly what he was doing, unravelling my sanity and stealing my future one well-placed sword at a time."
"No one can steal your future, Tressa. Defeat is a powerful emotion, don't allow it to make your decisions for you."
She was still at my side, snow swirling. "It's hard to hold your head high when the storms just keep coming.”
I frowned before uttering, “so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
"Never pegged you for an F. Scott Fitzgerald kind of guy.” She sighed. "All that glitz and melancholy doesn't suit you, Father.”
I cracked a wry grin. “He was wise in his self-awareness, foolish in his love for doomed things." My words hung in the air between us before I finally asked, “Your dad, did he ever come?”
She shook her head, eyes finally pulling away from the circle window over my shoulder to meet mine. “Never.”
SIX
Tressa
My footsteps echoed on the wooden floors as I wound my way through the hall and down the last Stations of the Cross. It was a few nights after our talk about family and fathers and all the other pathetic parts of my existence, and I still was feeling knocked off-kilter by all of it. Being back in this part of town had triggered unexpected memories, a past I thought I’d long buried. I wished again that I could retreat to my mom’s house, ask her questions and believe the answers she gave in return—but the things that came out of her mouth were rarely truthful and often soaked in a drunken slur. I’d come to figure her own memories were half-baked at best—but even with that all of that reality—I still couldn’t shake the drive to find out more about my dad.
Moonlight slivered through stained glass as snowflakes swayed on the wind outside, thoughts about the truths that could be snaked between my mother’s lies eating me up. It felt like I’d been living a life of chaos in all the years leading up to now as I tried to figure out my place—trying to discover myself through a cracked glass frosted with pain and rejection. Calm had only begun to find me when I’d come back here.
A gust of air made the vestibule doors shudder then. Father Bastien was usually around before now, locking the adjacent outer doors just after the sun went down. Maybe he’d gotten caught up with work tonight, though. I’d already given Lucy a copy of the cottage key—which technically meant that we both now had easy access to the church and rectory—Bastien’s way of welcoming us fully into the church family. He was generous—but sometimes I wondered if even his generosity had limits.
He’d been spending a lot of time in the tiny office upstairs the last few days, desk and lamp and boxes of church records at his feet as he siphoned through decades of history. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, exactly, but whatever it was, he did it with all of his focus. And when he didn’t have his head in a church record—he’d walked like a ghost around the rooms, quiet and deliberate—my eyes only catching his long enough for a brief nod before he was on his way.
Pushing through the vestibule then, I found the outer doors cracked open, Lucy’s sneaker wedged deftly in the doorway to prevent it closing.
“I didn’t realize you were out here.”
Lucy whipped around, eyes big in the soft moonlight.
A dark shadow over her shoulder moved away, icy eyes piercing my gaze before skittering off. “Is that someone you know?”
Lucy nodded, pushing the door closed and ducking around me.
“Do they need help? We have plenty of blankets and food if—”
“No, he doesn’t. I don’t even know how he found me.” Her voice was just above a whisper, some chill buried deep inside echoing through my bones.
“He? Was he bothering you?” I ventured softly.
She shook her head quickly, but her chin trembled, betraying her brave face. “Casey—he’s from my high school. I hadn’t seen him for a few years until we ran into each other at a party a few weeks ago. We spent time together, but then we lost touch. Until lately. Lately, he’s been finding me more. Tracking me down, and I’m not easily trackable.”
“Has he ever threatened you or…?”
Lucy’s dark eyes narrowed, then she looked down at the floor, head shaking. “No.”
“If you ever want to… Well, I’m here. For anything at all. Okay?”
Lucy nodded, littlest of smiles turning up her lips.
She’d never looked so young, despite the few short years that separated us.
“I’m going to grab my jacket and go back to the house.”
I nodded, sighing as I watched her small form retreat down the last Stations of the Cross. Something about her soul struck me as sad, still healing, in need of so much love. I hoped I could help raise her up to the woman she could be.
The bells high up in the tower chose that moment, the top of the hour, to chime, echoing around the old stone walls and sending vibrations through my nerves. That calming, soothing sensation I hadn’t known I’d missed. My mom had moved us in and out of so many houses that this, this sound, this feeling filling me right now, felt more like home than anywhere else ever had.
