The Virgin

Page 110

Dear Mom,

By the time you get this letter I’ll be gone. I can’t stay here at the abbey anymore. I don’t belong here and we all know it. But thank you for taking me in and giving me shelter. I promise I’m not going back to him. He’s not the reason I’m leaving. You won’t like hearing this, but there’s a literary agent who is interested in my book. I used to dream about being a writer when I was a teenager. I hope you never found any of my journals that I was scribbling in constantly. They would have given you a heart attack. I’m only telling you this so you know writing was my first good dream I ever had for my life. The nicest thing he ever said to me was that I was a better writer than he was.

You might not believe me when I say this, but I love you, Mom. I’m sorry the choices I’ve made in the past have scared you and disappointed you. I would be lying if I said I had any regrets, but you should know, I don’t feel good about hurting you. In my world, the pain is supposed to be consensual.

Please don’t be angry with me, and don’t be afraid. I’ll be fine. You always told me growing up that God had a plan for me, a plan to give me a future and hope. If it makes you feel any better at all, for the first time in my life, I think I believe that.

Love,

Elle

She didn’t add a postscript at the end. What more was there to say?

At 10:00 p.m., after everyone had gone to bed, Elle put on her jacket and her shoes and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She walked out to the oratory and found Kyrie waiting there for her. She had on her habit, her full habit. She hadn’t even changed clothes for bed. Elle had never touched her intimately while Kyrie had her habit on. She’d never touched Søren when he wore his vestments, either. They were sacred garments, and Elle felt awkward seeing Kyrie in them.

“I have clothes for you to change into,” Elle said.

“Good. I’ll put them on as soon as we get outside the gate.”

Kyrie smiled big and bright, but something about her smile looked fake and fragile. Elle didn’t blame her too much. They didn’t have much of a plan or much money. They were scared, both of them. Elle’s hand trembled and her breaths came faster than usual. Her voice sounded higher than usual, even to herself. Her mouth was dry and her muscles were tight.

She couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of here.

“Well, I have everything,” Elle said. “What about you?”

Kyrie had a suitcase. Elle reached for it but Kyrie held it to her chest. “I can get it,” Kyrie said.

“Sure. Great. Ready?”

“You first,” Kyrie said.

She reached out and took Elle’s hand. Elle squeezed Kyrie’s fingers and took a harsh, scared breath.

“Okay. I’ll lead the way.”

“Elle?”

“What?”

“Kiss me,” Kyrie said. “Please?”

Elle laughed. “Absolutely.”

She felt strange kissing Kyrie while she was wearing her habit and veil. But how could she say no to such a humble request? She put her bag down and placed her hands on Kyrie’s face. The kiss was exactly what Elle needed. It reminded her that Kyrie had put herself into Elle’s hands. She had to take care of them now. She had to take care of both of them. Kyrie was young and she needed Elle to be strong for her. Strong and in charge. Elle could do that.

When Elle pulled back, Kyrie had tears on her face.

“Don’t be scared,” Elle whispered. “I’ve got this. You believe me, right?”

“I believe in you. You’re going to do amazing things out there in the world.”

“We both are.”

“I wanted to tell you...” Kyrie began. “I figured out how your book ends. I know what Daphne did when the light turned green.”

“You did?” Elle asked. “What do you think Daphne did?”

“I think she went out on her own and had an amazing life. And I think John Apollo had a good life too, even without her.”

Elle grinned. “I think you’re right. More than one kind of happy ending.”

She kissed Kyrie quickly on the lips again and picked up her bag. Elle took a deep calming breath and walked to the back door of the oratory. Kyrie unlocked it and opened it for her.

Elle looked over her shoulder and smiled at Kyrie. Elle stepped out of the chapel and into the real world again.

The night was cool but not cold, and the moon was high and full and bright. She could see everything—the cluster of white oak trees and the silver maples that stretched along the edge of the worn dirt path, the abbey glowing gray in the moonlight, and the road in the distance lit by a single streetlight.

She took a deep breath and inhaled. Of course the air smelled the same out here as it did behind the fence, behind the gates, but she didn’t care. She breathed it in again. It was almost summer. That’s what she smelled—the coming of a new season. Everything smelled alive. And the world was alive. She heard owls and crickets, a car on the gravel far away, the wind sweeping over the farmland behind her.

She turned around and held out her hand for Kyrie.

“Green light,” Kyrie said. Then she shut the door to the oratory.

“Kyrie?” Elle knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked again, harder and louder, called Kyrie’s name again. Still no answer.

Panicked, heart racing and sweating, Elle pounded even harder on the door. She ran to the side of the oratory and peered through the wrought-iron fence.

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