Page 298 of Sinister

Silence descends in the dining hall. All the nuns turn to stare at the exchange. The other two friars don’t seem very surprised. In fact, each one turns to the nun next to them and engages in conversation.

What’s a little uncomfortable is the way they do it. They all lightly touch the nuns’ hands.

Perhaps I am reading far too much into it, but surely that touch is not required, nor is it something a friar would do?

“H-how did you know?” Sister Prudence asks.

He smiles softly. “I know a great many things.”

“Oh.”

“Sit. Tell me about her,” he advises.

Surprised, but not at all displeased, Sister Prudence takes a seat next to Frey Antonio and proceeds to tell him about her mother.

I watch stupefied as she recounts details no one else has heard in the convent—with an unnatural ease and lack of discomfort. As if Frey Antonio were not a stranger who does not need to know this about her.

I turn to the other friars and note similar conversations happening around the table.

Frey Miguel engages Sister Mary about the difficult birth of her niece just a few months ago. The little girl has been sickly since birth, and the midwife does not believe she will make it through the winter.

Tears flow down Sister Mary’s cheeks as she tells him the many times she’s tried to pray to God, to appeal to him to save the little girl, but instead her situation has just gotten worse.

In this short exchange between the two of them, the friar has managed to get Sister Mary to admit to having doubts about God, about her faith, and even about her calling as a nun.

On the other side of the table, Frey Pedro probes at Sister Celine’s insecurities, too, getting her to confess she misses her family and that she might have made a wrong choice in taking the veil. Sister Celine is young, only twenty-two, so it makes sense why she would have doubts.

But the way Frey Pedro coaxes the confession out of her is . . . odd.

“Why did you take the veil, Sister Celine?” Frey Pedro asks, his hand atop hers.

She’s staring into his eyes, almost hypnotized. She doesn’t blink as she responds, “I married at eighteen. But my husband turned out to be a bigamist. He had another family before he married me. Our marriage was annulled, and his wife made it her mission to destroy my reputation back home.”

“Do you still love that man?”

She releases a low sob. “Yes.”

“If he had not been already married, a bigamist, you would not have taken your vows, would you?”

“No,” she chokes out.

“Would you like him back? Would you like him to be yours and only yours?”

“Frey Pedro, I do not think this is a proper conversation,” I interject.

“No one asked you,” he counters in a rough voice before turning to Sister Celine and being all smiles.

My mouth opens in shock. He continues to press her with the questions until he has what he wants.

“Yes, I would like him back if only he were mine and mine alone . . .”

“What would you do to make that a reality?” he asks smoothly.

“Anything,” she whispers. “I would do anything.”

“Even give up your soul?”

There’s a split second of silence as I think she’s not going to answer that. But then she does.