“I thought Karen didn’t know your adoptive mother?”
“She didn’t. Marie facilitated the whole thing.” I raised an eyebrow. “What a coincidence.”
“I’ll tell you what, this is a lot more than I bargained for. I’m here for the connections.” Will sat on the couch, his wide eyes bouncing between Adam and me.
“So am I, but what will that matter if our legacy is tarnished by priests who rape?” Adam asked.
My phone vibrated in my hand and I glanced down to see Karen was calling. I answered quickly.
“Did you get my text?”
“Where did you find that?”
“At . . . it doesn’t matter. Doesn’t she look like someone?”
I bit my lip, glancing back up and meeting Adam’s gaze as I waited for Karen to say she agreed with me. Or not. You never knew with Karen.
“Of course she does. She was your daycare teacher.”
“What?”
“At the parish church. That’s Ms. Penelope.” Karen paused and I could hear someone speaking in the loudspeaker. She was probably calling me from work. “People always used to say you looked more like her daughter than mine, which was obvious with your complexion and features, but I didn’t think much of it.” Karen paused. “Oh my God, do you think that’s her? Your mother? It can’t be, can it?”
“I don’t know. How old would I have been in daycare? Do you have pictures?”
“I’m sure I do. I put you in there at Deborah’s insistence. You must have been four? It was the year Esteban’s health took a turn for the worst.”
I took a seat in the leather chair behind me. “Can you look for pictures when you get home?”
“Sure. Where did you find this? That secret society place?”
“Yes.”
“I think you need to get out of there,” she said.
In the past, I’d taken comfort in Karen’s discomfort. This time, I was crawling with it and I didn’t like it one bit.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Adam
When I received an ominous white envelope with my name on it, I was immediately skeptical. It only deepened when I actually showed up at The Manor and was told I’d be given fifty grand for joining The Swords, but then I heard the stories about how they came to be. How a group of men who met in a lab came together because of their joint interests. Their interests being cadavers, the human body, and how it functioned. They were grave robbers at first, borrowing the freshly buried for the purpose of science. They were making a real difference with their findings. Later, a man bought The Manor and his wife bought the house next door and it became the home of The Eight, our brother society. The secret societies on campus learned early on that if they didn’t stick together, they’d go down. The Skulls went down. There was no anonymity there. The Eight have nearly gone down countless times, including last year, when they were nearly exposed. Somehow, they’d stayed afloat. The Swords were the most secretive of all and I never fully comprehended why until now.
They were cloaked by the monks and priests and possibly the archdioceses. They were swimming in their blood, rotting in their lies and I knew that no amount of handwashing would ever make me feel as though I didn’t have blood on my own hands. Not the kind of blood I’d gotten on my hands when I’d been allowed to cut open a cadaver last year—something only medical students were allowed unless you were a Sword—no, this was the kind of blood I’d never rid myself of. I’d accepted their money, I’d bought into all of their lies, recruited people for them, and sold them the same twisted dreams. It wasn’t the money that attracted people to these societies, though it helped. It was the prestige. It was rubbing shoulders with world leaders and having certain people on speed dial. They weren’t in these societies for what they could get out of them right now. This wasn’t a movie. They weren’t driving around Lambos and partying with rappers. They were in it for the favors they could and would cash in later, for the connections, for the honor. I knew about the monks. I was told by the person who recruited me, just as I’d told Will. The monks were there. The nuns were there. Why they were there or what they were doing was a mystery to me, but I didn’t meddle.
I was never normally at The Manor. I had my own apartment, after all. An apartment I had barely visited after Eva showed up on our doorstep. Now there I was, worried about Eva and what she may be in for. After a long shower, I dressed and sat at the edge of my bed, thinking. I needed to think. I needed to remember everything that was said the day they named me president of this chapter. Everything that was asked of me. Everything that I swore I’d do for them. And I would. I knew deep down that I’d signed myself over to The Swords when I accepted everything they’d given me, but if that included giving them Eva, I’d have to draw a line. Thirty years, they’d said. A sacrifice, the nun told Eva. They were obviously functioning on some sort of code. I only hoped I could crack it before it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Eva
What was the correct thing to say to the twin sister you’d never met? A sister who may or may not have fed you to the wolves. I wiped my clammy hands over my jeans and stood up, pacing the parking lot for what seemed like the millionth time. Adam told me to stay in the car. He told me not to go inside under any circumstance. He also stuck Will with me and there was no way I could outrun him, so I was staying put.
“What’s taking him so long?” Will huffed, crossing his arms as he looked toward the building.
“The daytime staff leaves at six,” I said. “He’s probably waiting for the main doctors to clear out.”
“How often do you come here?”
“These days? Twice a month.”
“And before?”
“A lot more than twice a month.”
“What were you in for?” He eyed me sideways.
“Everything under the sun.” I faced him. “From anger issues to hallucinations.”
“Hallucinations?”
“When I was little, I saw a little girl who looked like me. I chased her halfway through the mall and got separated from my mom. I lost sight of the little girl and security found me, but I swear it was my twin.”
“And they said you hallucinated it?”
“They said I wanted to have a sister so badly, I made one up.” I shrugged, looking away.
“Well, joke’s on them.”
“I think the joke is still on me.” I shook my head. “I’ve spent my entire life seeing things through fogged-up lenses and they’re starting to clear up.”
“You think they knew about your sister and were purposely lying to you about her?”
“I think they lied to us both.”
“Do you think they lied about your anger and all of your other issues too?”
“It’s hard to say.” I looked over at him again. “When someone tells you who they are, do you believe them?”
“Do you?”
“I guess so.” I looked away and blinked the unexpected tears that burned my eyes.