“Good morning,” the nun said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I . . . yes. Thank you.” I looked at the two of them and saw no distinction in their faces, a realization that made me feel instantly woozy. “Are you sisters?”
“Yes.” The one in plain clothes smiled.
“Twins. Are you twins?”
“Yes.” She frowned. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure.” I grabbed onto the rail beside me and sat down slowly. “I’m sorry. I just haven’t had anything to eat.”
“It’s okay.” The nun looked at her sister. “Get her some water. And bread.”
The one in plain clothes ran down the stairs and disappeared to the right. The nun sat down beside me.
“You should be in bed thinking about the sacrifice you’ll be making.”
“What sacrifice?” My eyes searched hers.
“It is your duty to fulfill whatever the Chancellor asks of you.”
“I don’t understand. I was already buried. I was already initiated.”
“More may be asked of you. You have a sister, don’t you?” She stood suddenly. “It’s the thirtieth year, Child, and sacrifices come in threes.”
The other woman gave me a slice of bread in a napkin and a bottle of water before they walked up the stairs. I continued my walk down, my sneakers squeaking with each step I took. Why had she asked me if I had a sister? Did she mean I’d have to sacrifice Stella? Or maybe Stella already sacrificed me. I followed the sound of the piano, which was playing a very familiar and very unexpected song. Outside the closed door, I closed my eyes and just listened, the notes transporting me to another time, another place, before Karen started drinking heavily and I was constantly in and out of The Institute. It was so long ago, I had to squint my eyes to get a glimpse of what my life looked like under this lens. I turned the knob, pushed the door open, and Adam stopped playing and looked up. I cleared my throat. I decided not to tell Adam about this yet. It was too much crazy to lay on one person at once.
“I thought you weren’t Catholic.”
“I’m surprised you remember anything about last night at all.” Adam smiled. “Would you like me to play S’vivon?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“I didn’t think you would. Normally people who are married to one religion don’t think about the others.”
“But you do.” I walked to the couch across from him and sat down.
He gave a small shrug. “Let’s just say my mother went through a crisis when I was a teenager and my entire family had to learn about multiple religions as she tried to figure out what she believed in.”
“Oh.” I tried to picture what that would be like, but couldn’t. Between Karen, Full House, and Family Matters, my idea of a family unit was entirely warped, tittering between what I knew and what I’d never achieve. “Which did she decide on?”
“She thought she could be Buddhist for a while, but went back to Catholicism. Apparently, it’s a bitch to give that one up. The guilt eats away at you slowly every second you turn your back on it, and by the time you realize it and go back to confession, you’re so guilt-ridden, you’re almost having another existential crisis.”
At that, I chortled. It was so relatable. Every time I met a guy on Bumble I had to give myself a pep talk about how it wasn’t wrong, truly.
“I definitely didn’t expect you to be playing ‘Ave Maria,’” I said finally. “It was beautiful.”
“Don’t tell me it’s your favorite.”
“It’s everyone’s favorite. I think that song transcends religious belief. You have no choice but to appreciate it when you hear it.”
Adam didn’t say anything, but his eyes were smiling, and I felt myself smile with them. There was a knock on the door and we both faced it as it opened and a priest walked inside. My frown deepened, heart leaped so high it lifted me to my feet. Adam stood as well.
“Please…” The Priest waved his hands. “You don’t have to stand. I’ll only take a second of your time.” He smiled at me as we continued to stand, and walked over to us. It was a kind smile, but after everything I’d seen here, I wasn’t sure I believed the sincerity behind it. When he reached us, he turned to Adam. “Four more called to RSVP this morning. I told them in jest that it was too late, but they didn’t seem to accept that. I just wanted to let you know before you saw my email.”
“That’s fine. Four won’t make a huge difference. Sometimes, people don’t show up.”
“My child.” The Priest reached up and set a hand on top of Adam’s shoulder. “Everyone will show up tonight. I don’t know who you’re expecting, but our people don’t RSVP unless they’re going to show. They’ve waited years for this.”