“Bea Denham?” I ask faintly.
He nods, looks at me more closely. “You must be her sister … Lo?” I step back, stunned, as he holds his hand out. “Forgive me—I’m Father Michael.”
I stare at his hand, the wide-open space around us shrinking down to nothing. His voice is deep, soothing, but it doesn’t make me feel any less unsettled. He lowers his hand uncertainly. I raise my eyes to his, trying to understand.
“How do you know Bea?”
“I met her last year.” He gestures to the headstone. “She was visiting your parents, like you are now … we struck up a conversation…” I bring my hand to my chest, trying to calm its frantic rise and fall, imagining myself walking through the gate sooner, finding her here. He studies me. “I’m sorry … am I upsetting you?”
“And she told you about me?”
“Yes.”
“What did—what did she say?”
“She mentioned your miraculous recovery after the accident…”
I take a clumsy step back, bringing my hand to my forehead. There’s a rage bubbling inside me, threatening to take over. She was here. She told him about me.
But all she had for me was—
Good-bye …
“Did she tell you she turned her back on me?” I ask and he blinks, taken aback. “Does she still come by? Do you see her?”
He opens and closes his mouth, seems to realize he’s inadvertently walked into a minefield. After a moment, he gestures to the church. “Lo, would you like to go inside to talk? Maybe there’s something I can offer you—”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not—there’s nothing you can tell me I don’t already know. I’m tired of hearing about my sister from other people. But maybe—maybe you could tell her something for me.”
He frowns. “I’ll do my best.”
“Tell her—” I pause. “Wait. Do you know she has a daughter?”
Father Michael nods. “Emmy.”
I close my eyes briefly.
“Okay,” I say, bitterness stretched across my voice. “Okay, well. Tell her me and Emmy and Lev—we’re doing just fine without her. That’s all.”
“I think I can relay that.” He sounds sad.
“Thank you, Father.” I glance back at the road, see the SUV making its way toward us, and knowing that I’m not that far from being with Lev settles me down some, quiets some of my rage. But its absence leaves me mortified. I turn back to the priest. “I’m so sorry that I—”
“It’s fine. I understand.” He pauses. “Lo, if I tell Bea these things and she should want to reach out to you…”
“She won’t. But thank you.”
I turn, making my way to the road.
“But if she does,” he says at my back, “can you tell me how she could do that?”
I stop at the question, pressing my lips together.
Don’t, Lo.
Just let her go.
It’s what you’re supposed to do.
“If she really wants me,” I finally say, “she can find me at Chapman House. She knows where that is.”
The sky breaks open, the sound of the rain cacophonous against the cabin’s roof. Lev is caught in the onslaught. The door flies open and he hurries through, soaked, his curls plastered to his forehead.
“You think Emmy’s okay?” I ask, startling as a loud clap of thunder sounds above us, trying to fight the urge to go to her, just to be sure. I put her to bed earlier but now I imagine her terrified awake by the sound. I hate not being close enough to comfort her.
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Lev asks, peeling out of his coat and boots.
“The grumbles,” I reply. He gives me a blank look. “Foster said she’s afraid of storms … she calls them grumbles—”
“Right.” His shoulders sag. He palms his eyes. “Grumbles. She’ll be fine.” I can feel his exhaustion in my bones. I watch as he moves around the kitchenette, putting the coffee on, which is the last thing he needs. “How was Morel?”
I hesitate, wondering if I should tell him about the priest. I don’t think Bea will reach out, no matter my message. And I know Lev would not condemn me for my weakness, but he would be disappointed in it. I don’t want him to look at me and see someone who isn’t ready for the final step. I won’t let Bea take more from me than she already has.
“I feel lighter,” I tell him. “I won’t miss it.”
“Good,” he says and moves to me, pressing his damp palm against the outside of my face. I cover it with my own. His eyes are proud, and his pride warms me. He says it again, tenderly: “Good.” After a moment, he lowers his hand. I miss his touch almost immediately. “I’m temporarily relocating staff to various residencies this week. It will just be me, Casey and Foster here—and you and Emmy, of course.”
“Why?”
“I need to get an understanding of the op-ed’s impact across the wider membership. It’s shaken some of our people. Staff will be my ears and eyes. If there are any misgivings, doubts, fears, concerns … this is the most expedient way I can address them.”
“Makes sense.”
“Oh, and before I forget—” He digs into his pocket and holds something up. At first, I don’t know what I’m looking at and then I slowly understand. My phone. Or what was my phone. The screen is completely cracked. I take it from him and try the power. It’s dead.
“What the hell happened?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. We found it in Emmy’s room,” he says. I close my eyes. “I’m sorry, Lo. Casey will get you a new one.”
“Okay,” I say tiredly. “Thanks.”
His eyes drift over my body in a way that I understand. I set the phone down and I turn away from him, slipping out of my pants and then unbuttoning my shirt, feeling his eyes on me as I undress. I like the feeling but when I turn to present myself to him, he’s facing away, staring out the window, lost deep in thought. I can guess what he’s thinking about.
“Who’s Rob?” I ask. He stiffens. “I heard the name this morning, when I was coming up the hall … you think he wrote the op-ed?”
He turns to me. “I told you I wasn’t idle.”
“I thought you said you needed the name—”
“I said I needed a retraction. I didn’t say I didn’t know who wrote it.” He crosses his arms. “Faith is trusting in what you don’t know with the understanding that it will prepare you for all the unknown asks of you. You need to trust in me, Lo.”
“I’m sorry.” My face burns. “I do.”
He holds to the silence, lets me sit with the shame.
“Rob is a former member,” Lev finally answers. His tone is careful, guarded. “And he is the only member I have ever asked to leave The Unity Project.”
I process it slowly. It’s hard to imagine Lev turning someone away from The Project, when all he’s wanted was to offer people refuge inside it.
“Why?”
“Because he was dangerous. He was a threat to members. It was a last resort. I never wanted it to come to that.”