“Well, we’ve always said all bad things come in threes,” Karen said. “All good things too. It’s the trinity.”
“You used to know a nun,” I said. “The one who helped you adopt me. What was her name?”
“Sister Marie.” Karen smiled. “Very nice nun.”
“Marie?” My heart pounded in my ears. “Do you have a picture of her?”
“A picture?” She stood, frowning. “I don’t think so. She worked at the front office in your elementary school, remember? She may be in the background of an old album.”
As Karen walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, where the photo albums were, Adam leaned over.
“Was the nun’s name Marie?”
“I’m not sure, but that woman, the one who serves the food and cleans The Manor. She said she’s been working there over forty years. Her name is Marie.”
Adam sat back, stunned. Karen walked back into the room with three albums in her arms. She set them on the table between us. I grabbed the first one, she grabbed the second, and Adam looked between the two of us.
“I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
“Nuns,” Karen and I said at the same time, both in the same short-fused tone.
The three of us leafed through the albums and stopped every so often to show pictures of nuns, but saw nothing.
“Here she is!” Karen held her book up as she stood and laid it on top of ours, pointing at the picture. Adam and I both stood and hovered over the album. It was Karen carrying a baby, her husband Esteban, and a nun. Karen and Esteban were all smiles. The nun had a small smile of her own. She was young, younger, but it was definitely, without a doubt Marie. Adam and I looked up at each other at the same time, our foreheads nearly touching, our eyes wide, horrified.
“That’s her,” Adam said. “That’s Marie.”
Karen brought a hand up to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears.
I took a step back.
Adam looked as shell-shocked as I felt. When he looked back up, he looked at Karen.
“She spoke to you?” Karen asked finally. I nodded. “Did she ask your name?”
“Do you think she’d remember me? I was so small then.”
“Of course she would. She was so proud to have helped us. She sent a card for you every Christmas, every birthday.” Karen exhaled. “I don’t understand any of this. She definitely knew you had a sister. She must have. She never said a word.”
“This is all so fucked up,” I whispered.
“Fucked up doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface,” Adam said. “I have to go to work tomorrow and I don’t even know how I’m going to act when I see Stella again.”
“What room is she in?”
“366.”
Karen and I looked at each other. A chill ran down my spine. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that I always stayed in room 663, could it? I thought hard to that Sunday when I’d woken up there. I was all out of sorts, but it wasn’t like it had been my first time running to The Institute and staying there. I was what they’d call a regular. All of the halls looked the same. All of the rooms looked the same. The staff all wore the same uniform. But something was off that morning. Something I couldn’t pinpoint until this moment.
“I was in room 366 that Sunday,” I said finally.
“Are you sure?” Karen asked.
“Positive.”
She did the sign of the cross and muttered a prayer under her breath.
“She had a tattoo on her right arm,” Karen said suddenly.
“A cross?” Adam’s namesake apple bobbed.
“Yes.” Karen’s brows pulled together. “So you did see her.”
“I did.” He nodded slowly and looked over at me. “And she denied having a sister.”
Those words hit me like a brick. She knew about me, obviously. She showed up at my house and tried to pretend she was me, yet she denied I existed? My head felt like it was spinning and I was beginning to think everyone was setting me up.
Chapter Twenty-One
We were walking toward the church in the woods for my ceremony and I still hadn’t met the Chancellor, but I would tonight. It was odd, wearing a white and gold cloak in the midst of all of the red cloaks in front of us and behind. All of the men walked in pairs. One of them holding a lantern, illuminating the way for their partners.
“Is the Chancellor the highest up in the society?” I asked.
“No. There’s one higher than him.”
“Is there a chance that you’ll become Chancellor one day?”
“Impossible. I’m not a man of God.”
“You mean like a monk?”
“Even monks don’t become chancellor.”
“So you have to be a priest?” I whispered.
“Basically.” He glanced over. “And beyond that to be his boss.”
My mouth fell open. “So like a Cardinal? Bishop? Archbishop?”
Adam nodded gravely as we reached the front of the church. It had double wooden doors and as the right one opened before us, I smelled the familiar incense. Adam placed the lantern in his hand down beside the rest of them outside of the door and led the way inside, walking to the front of the room. What I thought was a chapel was more like a small cathedral, with a dome ceiling and paneled windows. Despite the lack of light, it seemed like everywhere I looked I found something beautiful to look at and I was sure it would take me days, maybe even weeks to see all of the artwork. There was a panel of saints on the other side of the altar. When we reached the front, Adam bowed and did the sign of the cross. I did the same and slid into the second row, right beside him, before focusing my attention on the cross with Jesus on it that sat atop of the altar. A priest walked onto the altar, wearing white and gold like I was, taking in the room as he smiled.
“Welcome, brothers and sisters.” He opened his arms as if he was hugging the entire room. “I see new faces and old, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting wrinkles.” He chuckled as the crowd laughed. “Where are our sisters? I saved the first row especially for you.”
At the sight of twelve red cloaks walking toward the front and taking a seat in the row in front of me, I wondered if I should stand and join them. Adam nudged me, answering my question. I stood and sat directly in front of where I’d been sitting, hating that I was the only one wearing white and gold while they were all wearing red.
“Welcome,” the priest said, smiling at me. I smiled back and bowed my head. There were whispers in the room that he quieted when he began speaking again. “Don’t worry, I won’t be holding Mass today. There are too many sinners in this room and I’m afraid none will be able to take the bread.”
The room laughed again. I felt myself smile. I liked this priest. He reminded me of Father Murray from my church.
“The Swords, has, from the beginning of time, been the most prestigious secret society. Forget the Skulls, forget The Family, forget the Masons. No secret society has been able to wield power in both the church and the state. Together, we are powerful. Together, we are worthy. Together, we have the power to change the world. These were the words spoken by our founder. They are words I say to you today. They are words your presidents and chancellors and leaders will recite for years to come.”