Page 96

My fingers curl against the edge of the pew. Wood cuts into my palms.

I hear Levi again. “He was there at the beginning… he’ll be there at the end.” Was he talking about Trent Miller? Why else would he keep that picture tucked away in his Bible?

Trent raises his hand as if inviting the heavens to applaud. “But even when we fail, because we will, we must seek forgiveness. From God, yes. But also, from those we’ve wronged. That’s where true integrity lies.”

Forgiveness.

I’ve seen what men like him ask forgiveness for.

They beg with trembling lips and blood on their hands, like grace is a switch they get to flip when it suits them.

Harper whimpered beneath his threaded closed lips, piss-soaked and shaking in the corner of the shed. He thought quoting scripture would buy him mercy. He didn’t understand, his last prayer was never meant to be heard.

Wolfe fought. Hard. Kicked, bit, cursed until his throat went raw. He died loud. Violent. The pigs didn’t mind. They never do.

Three men.

Three monsters.

Three graves no one’s digging up.

And now… Trent.

Another man standing behind a pulpit pretending his sins don’t stink. Another voice booming forgiveness into cold air like it’s his to give.

But I’m not here for repentance.

I’m here for reckoning.

The sermon ends, and the organ sings to life again. Voices rise in song. I don’t sing. I watch Trent close his Bible and bow his head. The service ends like nothing’s wrong. Like he didn’t just breathe hypocrisy into the lungs of the faithful.

People rise, pulling scarves tighter, gloves tugged on again. Coats buttoned.

I follow the crowd, silent. Ghostlike.

But just as I pass the pulpit, I hear it.

“Lydia.”

One word.

One name.

My name.

I stop.

Turn.

Trent is watching me. His hand rests gently on the pulpit. His eyes, clear and sharp, lock with mine.

Recognition isn’t just in his face. It’s in the shape of his mouth when he says it. The reverence. The certainty.

I stare back at him.

My breath hangs in the cold air, a thin cloud between us.

Even from across the room, the space feels tighter, smaller, like it’s pulling in.