“We know your sister,” Sybil said, then wished she had been less abrupt, but fatigue and urgency did that to a person. “We’re worried about your sister.”
Patience’s eyes flared and a hand, which had been cradling her belly, covered her mouth. She glanced behind her to her front door, as if Sybil had summoned something evil, and Patience was waiting to see if that evilness were about to emerge. When nothing happened, she stepped down the stairs and onto the driveway.
“You know Elizabeth?” Her voice was low, covert.
Sybil dug her phone out of her pocket. Pulled up the commercial Natalie had texted. Patience watched wordlessly, her face both pale and astonished. When it ended, Sybil swiped through her photos and showed her the photo of Betty and Pluto on Thanksgiving.
Patience’s hands were shaking.
“I haven’t seen her since…” She glanced around.
“I haven’t taken them to the church site yet,” Annabeth said. “At night, I’m not sure how much there is to see.”
Sybil thought of the photos from Julian’s files, now up on their makeshift evidence wall. The pile of ashes, that there were charred bodies underneath, a heap of burned wood planks where an altar used to stand, the top of a cross still slightly recognizable.
“Is she okay?” Patience asked, and now her voice matched her hands. Quaking, maybe terrified.
“She’s gone,” Zeke said from behind Sybil. “She’s disappeared, and we thought you might know where she went?”
“No,” Patience said, and now she was firmer. “I haven’t spoken with her since the fire.”
“So she wouldn’t have come back here?” Sybil pressed.
“Or maybe Levi has?” Zeke asked, and Patience’s eyebrows darted downward, her jaw setting.
Very suddenly, Sybil realized that it was indeed much colder than she first thought. She could see Zeke’s breath; she could feel the goose bumps on her every limb. Around them, forest bloomed up across miles, animals scuttled and whined and chirped. Everything about this situation felt isolated, odd.
“We’re just concerned she could be in real trouble,” Sybil said again.
“I haven’t seen Levi in years. I don’t understand…you know him too?” She hesitated, looked at Annabeth. “I’m sorry, whoarethese people again?”
Just then the front door swung open.
“Steady,” Annabeth whispered to them. Then brighter, “Pastor Morrow, nice to see you again.”
Matthew Morrow was handsomer than Sybil had expected. She had absolutely no experience with pastors, but Matthew Morrow had a striking resemblance to a movie star whose name was escaping her but who starred in some holiday smash rom-com that Eloise had insisted they watch together. Blond, light eyes, a jawline with a hint of a five-o’clock shadow. He was in a white button-down, freshly ironed, and dark pressed jeans. If he were cold, as the night dipped even darker, he didn’t betray it. He slung an arm around his wife.
“Ms.Collins,” he said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“Investors,” she said, and Sybil was impressed with how quickly the lie rolled off her tongue. “We were waiting online together at Starbucks today; they mentioned they were curious about Revivalists. I told them I knew just the man to introduce them to.”
Matthew stuck out his hand toward Zeke, squinted as if his face looked familiar, but then seemed to move past it. “Pastor Morrow,” he said. “Welcome to our humble church.”
“I hear it’s not so humble,” Sybil said. “I hear it’s pretty impressive.”
She caught an ever-so-slight flare of his nostrils, that he had to address her, which delighted her. She thought of Mark and how much she’d sacrificed for his career. She wondered what Patience had sacrificed for Matthew. Or maybe Patience didn’t consider any of it a sacrifice. If you’d asked Sybil twenty years ago, maybe she’d have lied to herself about that too.
“Just serving the Lord,” he said.
“Amen,” Patience echoed.
Sybil wasn’t sure which one of them believed that.
Either? Both? Or neither of them.
48
Night Nineteen
