Birdie took a long sip of her coffee. “We were already goin’ to the church in Perry when the worst of it started. Didn’t like how things were changin’ in Willow Grove…too much heat in the sermons, too many girls bein’ singled out for ‘temptation.’”
I moved to take June’s hand, remembering what she’d told me at the clinic:they asked if I had kissed a boy. I said no. But they didn’t believe me, and they kept asking, and they…they kept me tied up and starved me and…
Amelia had never said anything…but had the Remnant done that?
Had they done that toher?
Francine picked up the thread next, and I could tell from the look on her face it wasn’t good. “There was this…cruelty,” she said. “You remember that girl, Sara? Got caught holdin’ hands with a boy from out of town and they made her confess in front of the whole damn congregation?”
“She was thirteen,” Loretta said quietly. “And she wasn’t the only one—they told folks not to trust outsiders, not to seek help. Said doctors were false prophets, social workers demons in disguise.”
June gave a small, tight nod. “I know the type.”
Loretta peered at her. “You’ve walked through your own fire, haven’t you?”
Junedidn’t flinch. “I have.”
“And you’re not scared to stand in that pulpit?”
June met her gaze, calm and collected. “That’s exactly why Ihave tostand up there.”
And there it was.
The moment it hit me…not like a lightning strike, but washing over me like a wave, like a fact that had been quietly, inevitably true the whole time.
I was in love with this woman.
I didn’t just want her. Ilovedher. And that love was full and terrible and brighter than any light I’d seen in years.
I barely knew anything about her—there were a million little facts and habits to learn, a whole lifetime of history—but I knew that she was someone who stood up for people who needed help. That she was someone who’d walked through hell herself and come out on the other side like a goddamn avenging angel.
That she was someone who would have protected Amelia from the men who wanted to hurt her…that if June had been the reverend in this town fifteen years ago, Amelia might still be here.
Francine was saying something, but I wasn’t listening anymore; I was looking at June,staring at her, because I couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. Not just her face, her body…but her soul.
I hadn’t believed in God in a long time, but God was most certainly in her.
Given that I was speechless, the rest of the conversation carried on without me—talk of flyers and casseroles and folding chairs, of who had the right connections to borrow an amplified from the county high school, and of who got the privilege of baking my Grandma Hazel’s pineapple upside-down cake. Plans were made. Names were written down. Birdie pulled out a highlighter and started quoting scripture, for fuck’s sake.
And all I could do was sit there, useless, stunned.
Completely in love.
It wasn’t until we were lingering by the door in a true southern goodbye that Loretta stepped up beside me, watching June talk with Francine and Birdie. Loretta didn’t look at me right away—just adjusted the hem of her cardigan and gave me a long, considering sort of look.
“You know she’s the real deal, don’t you?” she said.
I didn’t stop looking at June—couldn’t. “I think I do.”
She nodded. “You’ve both been through hell,” she said. “But it seems you might be able to heal each other’s burns.”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat, forcing myself to nod. “She’s already startin’ to.”
Loretta gave me a soft smile. “You remind me of Hazel in that way. Took her a long time to believe she was allowed joy, especially after she lost your grandfather. But once she did…Lord, that woman lit up this whole town.”
I let out a breath. “I miss her.”
“I do too,” Loretta said—then she turned to look at me fully. “But I gotta tell you, baby—if Hazel could see you right now, with that look on your face? She’d be over the moon.”
