Fallen

No, tonight was the night. It had to be.

Kandace walked stoically to her room, Aurora shooting her a worried look as she entered. “The guild is here,” she said, looking pointedly at Kandace’s stomach, still hidden beneath the roomy, square uniform, and the oversized black sweaters they’d been given now that the temperature had dropped.

“I know,” she said. She hadn’t told Aurora about what the guild was doing when they came to “bless” the girls of Lilith House. It was better for Aurora that she didn’t know. But Aurora, friend that she was, worried about someone discovering Kandace’s secret, and the more people who saw her, the more likely one of them would be extra observant.

She walked to Aurora and grasped her hands. “It’s going to be fine. And remember, whatever happens, do not worry.”

Aurora’s gaze held to hers as she searched her eyes for several seconds. Finally, she nodded. I have a plan, she wished she could say. But it’s too dangerous to discuss it.

She squeezed Aurora’s hands and then let them go. She wished she could tell Aurora she’d been a good friend when she’d needed one. She wished she could thank her for being the one person she could trust in this hellish place, that if she’d ever doubted her, she shouldn’t have. She couldn’t risk a goodbye, not now, but she’d be sure to tell her all those things when she saw her again.

A friend—just one true one—could save your soul. And the gift of friendship lasted forever, its lingering grace there to draw strength from even when you were alone. Kandace knew that now.

“I’ll see you at chapel,” she said. “I’m going to go early and say a few extra prayers.”

Aurora nodded and Kandace offered her a smile, infusing all the gratitude she could in it. Then she closed the door behind her and made the slow walk downstairs and outside where the building was waiting to be filled by the fallen women of Lilith House and the good men who were there to offer atonement.

She slipped inside the door, a prayer on her lips that she had arrived before anyone else. The room was empty. Kandace exhaled a breath of relief, rushing forward and going directly to the cabinet at the back where she’d watched Ms. Wykes remove the communion wine so many times.

She glanced back, toward the closed chapel doors, before opening the cabinet and removing the corked bottle. Sweat gathered on her forehead and her hands trembled as she reached into the pocket of her uniform and brought out the piece of folded paper, unwrapping it on the floor in front of her, and then creating a makeshift funnel as she tipped it over the bottle and let the powdery grounds of the dried mushrooms flow into the wine.

She’d broken into her mother’s room so many times, and yet she’d never been nervous. She realized now that perhaps she’d hoped to be caught, hoped for . . . what? The attention that accompanied the disappointment? The small burst of satisfaction she’d received by doing something that caused her mother to actually look at her? To see her, if even for a moment? And even if that version of herself had little to do with who she actually was? Yes, she realized now that was exactly what her goal had been. She’d fooled herself into thinking the stakes were high then, when she had no concept of the meaning. God, how naïve she’d been, thinking she was clever, in control of her life. She hated Lilith House with every ounce of her being, but she also had to feel thankful that she’d grown up. She’d been redeemed after all. By the power of her own will.

And by the grace of friendship.

Kandace crumpled the paper, sticking it back in her pocket, and then shook the wine, recorking it and placing it back in the cabinet.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. Kandace stood, rushing off the platform and swinging around the first pew. She went down on her knees, joining her hands in front of her in prayer just as the doors swung open and several staff members entered. Please God, please let this work. Please help me get away.

The staff ceased talking when they saw she was there early, instead slipping quietly into a pew on the other side of the room. Soon the other girls arrived, along with the staff members present. Kandace’s limbs shook with nerves, the baby in her belly kicking her rib so hard she made a small sound of discomfort, covering it with a cough. Gentle, little one. I need your cooperation tonight. Just a few more hours and we’ll be free.

Ms. Wykes’s heels sounded on the floor, that unmistakable click slide that signaled her particular gait. Kandace gripped the pew in front of her tightly, holding herself steady.