Lessons in Sin

“I don’t know.” A tall blonde stepped toward the door and paused. “Remember what happened to Jasmine last year?”

A wave of discomfort rippled through the room. Some of the girls drifted into the hall. Others stared at the floor.

Clueless, I tried to interpret their expressions. “What happened to Jasmine?”

“She stayed after class, took off her clothes, and straddled his lap. She told us she was going to do it.” Carrie lifted a shoulder. “She was gone the next day. No one’s seen or heard from her since.”

“But she doesn’t have all this.” Nevada slid her hands along her voluptuous figure. “I’ll succeed where Jasmine failed.”

“You’re going to get your ass expelled, bitch.” Carrie laughed on her way out.

Expelled.

I didn’t have the curves, confidence, or sex appeal to seduce a man like Father Magnus. But I didn’t want to succeed. I wanted to get thrown out.

As I wandered back to my room, I turned the idea over in my head.

Not gonna lie. He still scared the bejesus out of me. But if his corrections were as bearable as the girls claimed, I could power through them to earn the one punishment that would send me home.

CHAPTER 8

MAGNUS

The buzz of eighty chattering girls filled the front lawn of Sion Academy. I stood at the entrance of the main building, invigorated by the energy in the air.

White shirts and plaid skirts gathered in four groups, representing each of the four grade levels. Each group of twenty students was assigned to a teacher, an escort, who would lead them off campus for the short walk to the church.

I glanced at my watch, and right on time, the groups began to file through the gate. Plaid uniforms bounced and twirled, wriggled and skipped, constantly moving. Teenage girls and their endless energy.

The trail of green plaid streamed through the gate and down the street until one group remained.

I checked my watch. 7:50.

The last group didn’t move.

“Father Isaac?” I met his eyes over the crowd of students. “What’s the holdup?”

The elderly priest adjusted his glasses and squinted at his phone. “I’m missing one.”

“Who?” I made my way toward him, scanning a few of the faces in his group.

Seniors.

I knew who the no-show would be before he said, “Tinsley Constantine.” He looked up at me. “I’ll go get her.”

Father Isaac was a brilliant music teacher, exceptionally attentive and good-natured. The students adored him.

Tinsley would eat him for breakfast.

“Wait here. I’ll deal with it.” I turned to the girl at my side. “Carrie. With me.”

I walked fast, cutting the ten-minute trek in half. Carrie tried to keep up, her shorter legs forced into a jog.

“Have you seen Miss Constantine this morning?” I hit the stairwell and took the steps two at a time.

“Yes,” she panted behind me. “She was with us when we left our rooms. She must’ve turned back.”

I glanced over my shoulder, marking her winded breaths and the sweat beading along her brow. “Add thirty minutes of cardio to your daily routine.”

“I have a full schedule this year.”

“Get up earlier.”

She blushed. “Yes, Father.”

The girl was an extraordinary vocalist in the church choir. Highly intelligent. Strong work ethic. Her mother was the first African American senator in New Hampshire, her father the state attorney general. A powerful political family, and my investigator had yet to uncover any corruption among them.

Carrie was mostly well behaved, but she needed to choose better friends. She spent too much time with Nevada Hildebrand, heiress to the multinational Hildebrand pharmaceutical corporation. Nevada was wild and desperate for attention. I gave her a month before she was suspended.

When I reached Tinsley’s dorm, I pounded on the closed door and stepped away with my back to the room. I wouldn’t put it past her to come out undressed.

She didn’t come out at all.

“Open it.” I nodded at Carrie, keeping my back to the door.

She obeyed and slipped into the room. Her footsteps halted. Then she whispered, “Girl, you’re in so much trouble.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Is she decent?”

“Define decent.”

“Is she wearing her uniform?”

“Yes?”

Why did she answer that like a question?

I turned and found Tinsley sitting on the bed and shoving cookies into her mouth. She hugged a box of them to her chest and reached in to grab another handful.

“If you take one more bite, your punishment will double.” I glared at her.

She glared back and crammed the cookies into her mouth. Crumbs tumbled down her untucked shirt and gathered on her skirt. A skirt that wasn’t long enough to cover her thighs.

“Stand up and join me in the hall.” I clasped my hands at my back with my feet braced apart.

She took in my stance and slowly rose.

Jesus. Most of the skirt had been sheared off. It was so short that only a strip of plaid peeked out from beneath her shirttails.