Then to her surprise, only the Thief and one of the prison guards was in the meeting room when they arrived. The Thief rose to his feet at the sight of the Orphan Girl, their gazes colliding.
“Where is everyone?” Sister Catherine asked.
The Thief shrugged, not taking his eyes from the Orphan Girl. “They didn’t feel like coming today.”
The Orphan Girl thought that was strange, but she was too distracted by her proximity to the Thief, with so few people between them, to pay it much mind.
“If we’d known, we wouldn’t have trekked all the way out here,” Sister Catherine groused. She was one of the older sisters, and she had a bad knee.
The Orphan Girl helped her find a seat and made sure she was comfortable, aware of the Thief’s gaze on her the whole time. She realized it would be up to her to run the meeting that day, since Sister Catherine usually napped through most of the prayer sessions.
She took her seat, and the Thief did, too. They gazed at one another.
“Let’s turn to Peter, chapter four,” the Orphan Girl said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
She and the Thief took turns reading the chapter back and forth, verse by verse. Sure enough, by the second reading, Sister Catherine was already drifting off. Still, the Orphan Girl carried on, knowing that she might stir, or the guard in the doorway might start to pay attention. This could be her best opportunity to have an important conversation with the Thief.
So she made sure that she was the one reading aloud once they got to verse eight: “And above all things, have fervent love for one another, for love will cover a multitude of sins.”
She paused and forced herself to meet the Thief’s gaze, to check whether he’d understood. What she saw in his eyes made her shiver. What she saw in his eyes made her burn.
A loud, piercing shriek cut through the building. The Orphan Girl jumped. Her first, irrational thought was that God was calling out her sin—but she quickly realized it was an alarm. The lights in the room were flashing with warning.
The guard bolted into action, one hand moving to his gun, the other pulling his radio to his mouth. Through the garbled voice on the other end, the Orphan Girl could make out the wordsprison riot.
When the Orphan Girl looked back to the Thief, she saw guilt flicker across his expression. He’d known this was going to happen. The other prisoners must haveknown, too, which was why they hadn’t come to Bible study. But the Thief had still chosen to attend. Why?
The Orphan Girl thought maybe she knew why, but she didn’t want to give that idea too much hope. It wouldn’t hurt as badly when the Thief grew tired of her or disappointed her in some other way, if she didn’t hope too much for something else.
Her attention was drawn back to the guard, who was having a hushed but frantic conversation over his radio. Somewhere, not too far off, she could hear shouts and the sounds of destruction. Clamoring. Shouting. Screaming.
Suffering, Uncle Aaron’s voice reminded the Orphan Girl.This is what you asked for.
The Orphan Girl looked to the Thief, but for once he wasn’t looking back at her. He was watching the guard, too. “Go,” he told him. “Lock us in. I’ll keep them safe.”
Indecision played out across the guard’s face. Frantic calls for backup coming over his radio seemed to make up the guard’s mind. “Don’t let anyone in until you get the all clear,” he instructed the Thief briskly.
He left them there, locking the door behind him. As the Thief moved to barricade the door with some desks, the Orphan Girl’s mind was whirring. She didn’t understand what was happening. The guard shouldn’t be leaving a prisoner on his own with two civilians, should he? And why had he and the Thief exchanged such a long, deliberate look?
Sister Catherine stirred, squinting up at the flashing lights overhead. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a prison riot,” the Orphan Girl informed her quietly, trying not to let her panic bleed into her voice.
Sister Catherine blinked. “Ah.” Unfazed, she put her head back down on the desk and, to the Orphan Girl’s astonishment, went back to sleep.
When she turned back, the Thief had finished stacking desks in front of the door. They faced each other, no barriers between them now, and (almost) nobody else in the room.
There were so many questions the Orphan Girl wanted to ask. So many things she wanted to say.
Instead, what she blurted out was, “Why would the guard leave us alone with you?”
A strange, conflicted look flashed across the Thief’s face. He blinked it away, meeting her gaze earnestly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” the Orphan Girl returned quickly, and meant it.
They gazed at each other for a long moment, until more shouts sounded from nearby, followed by what sounded like scattered gunfire.
The Orphan Girl gasped in surprise. The Thief closed the distance between them, pulling her under the conference table with him. “What about Sister Catherine?” the Orphan Girl asked.
