“In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit,” the woman began, eyelids fluttering shut as she bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, we thank you for the food we are about to eat, for the hands that prepared it, and for your abundant provision. Bless this meal, nourish our bodies, and cleanse our souls. Amen.”
“Amen,” Nathaniel said.
“Amen,” I forced out.
She nodded to our bowls, permitting us to eat.
I took small, hesitant sips while Nathaniel devoured his like a man starved for days instead of mere hours. The woman remained by the entrance, watching us.
“What’s your name?” Nathaniel asked once he’d finished his soup and returned his bowl onto the tray.
“You may call me Agatha,” the woman replied, lifting her chin.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Agatha,” Nathaniel said. “How long have you been with the God’s Soldiers Church?”
“Three and a half years,” she answered.
“That’s a long time,” Nathaniel hummed. “Is your family here with you?”
Her eye twitched at the word ‘family’, the tapping growing louder as she shook her head. “My family are non-believers. They are not welcome here.”
“I see,” Nathaniel said, softening his tone, “I am sorry to hear that.”
Agatha shook her head and pinned her gaze on me. I wasn’t sure why until she asked, “Have you almost finished your meal?”
I opened my mouth to respond when Nathaniel’s next question cut me off, “Do you know Mary Saint?”
The sound of my mother’s name on Nathaniel’s tongue caught me completely off guard. I dropped my spoon, the splash of water as it sank to the bottom echoing along the walls as I glanced in between my boyfriend and the woman sending daggers in his direction.
“Mary Saint?” she repeated.
“Yes,” Nathaniel nodded, “do you know her?”
“I’ve never heard of her,” she said, stepping forward to retrieve my spoon whilst snatching the remainder of my soup from my hands.
“I don’t think he’s finished—” Nathaniel started, only to fall silent when Agatha fled the room, leaving only the jug of water behind as the door slammed shut.
“It wasn’t that good anyway,” I mumbled.
Nathaniel sighed. “Do you think she’s lying? About not knowing your mother?”
“I don’t know. What reason would she have to lie?”
“She’s only been with the Church for three years,” Nathaniel thought aloud, “your mother could have left before then. We need to speak with someone who has been here longer.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” I asked. “It’s not like we can just go around interviewing people.”
“Well, no, but—”
“Look,” I cut him off, “it doesn’t matter anymore. We just need to get out of here. Let’s just focus on the plan, alright?”
Nathaniel released a long, reluctant sigh. “Alright, yeah. Focus on the plan.”
***
Midnight entered the mirrored room like spilled ink, its shadow carrying the nauseating scent of charred flesh and sulphur. Joe stood before me, priestly attire abandoned and replaced with a long black robe, a frayed rope tied around his middle.
Nathaniel stiffened beside me, his lips parting in silent protest as Joe raised a wooden crucifix in my direction, the end sharpened to a stake.
