52 | Stalked and Snapped

*“The soul in the darkness sins, but the real sinner is he who caused the darkness.” - Victor Hugo*

**SIENNA**

I had barely eaten for lunch, and after seeing the contents of the envelope, I could barely drink water without spilling or coughing. My appetite has gone for a toss. Even during dinner, I had only taken a spoonful of the meal and tossed the tray into the bin.
I did not fucking care if the MatronMatron saw me dumping it away and put a cross against my name. It was a rule at Mount Carmel that one could not waste food. The Matron kept track of the girls, putting a sign of red cross beside her name during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And once you have three crosses beside your name, you would not be granted a meal for the day.
But, of course, one could easily complain of stomach ache or illness, and in that case, you would be taken to the doctor.
Gabriel had these strictest possible rules framed for the girls of Mount Carmel in order to shape them into a disciplined life. Personally, I never wasted food. I abhorred it even.
But today was exceptional. I could neither share what I was going through nor could I go to the doctor for a medical consultation.
Hence, the *cross*.
I decided that I could live through that.
As I was aimlessly strolling through the passages, I came across the large arched door of the church, and for some reasons unknown to me, I stepped into it. My gaze dragged to the bowl of Holy Water beside the entrance. Gabriel has always made me draw a cross on the forehead, and oddly enough, I followed the procedure.
I have never been a religious or a devotee, one who seeks solace in a church, but I just found myself sitting at one of the pews and staring at the crucifix. I wanted to understand the calmness he drew from this place and the effect of his flickering devotion to God.
How does a man like him, wholly and singularly, offered his heart, soul, and dedication to God just because he thought he was a sinner?
“It is peaceful, isn’t it?” A soft voice cut through the silence of the church as I whipped my head around. It was Father Lucas.
“Huh?”
“Here, inside a church,” he answered my unuttered question, sauntering closer to the pew. “The chaos sometimes gets to us.”
“Yes, chaos,” I said distantly, nodding.
He took a seat across my pew and rested his hands on the lap. “How have you been doing, child? You did not stay long at home during the holidays.”
“No, Father Lucas. I came back.”
I spent the holidays at the school, mostly in Gabriel’s rectory, and made sure no one found out about our secret.
“I don’t mean to intrude, Sienna, but why?” He asked. “I thought you hated being here.”
I chuckled softly, recalling my earlier days here. “For the longest time, I did not know what I wanted. I guess Mount Carmel grew on me.”
“Well, I, for one, am glad to hear that.” He smiled. “A sweet girl like you must always smile.”
We resumed staring at the crucifix, and clearly, we held a different point of view. He understood spirituality while I struggled with the very basics of religion in the first place. I did not disparage it, though.
“Father, can I ask you something?” Breaching the silence, I queried curiously. “I mean, can we keep this between you and me?”
“Sure, go ahead and ask what you want.” He welcomed it.
Shifting sideways on the pew, I lowered my voice and leaned. “I won’t beat around the bush, so, can you tell me something about Father Sullivan? I have been told that you knew him since he was a boy.”
There was a mild surprise on his expression, but he was aged enough to smoothen the look. “I did.” He nodded solemnly. “I knew his mother as well. She was one of my parishioners and a devout Catholic.”
Okay, this was new for me. “His mother?” I gaped. “Wow. I did not know. Is that why he chose to be a priest? Forgive me, I am just curious.”
“Oh, no, no.” he chuckled. “It is absolutely fine. I have seen Gabriel as a boy and then become the man he is now. He had his share of tough times, but the lad sailed through. He was tenacious, determined and most of all — dedicated.”
I could not help but notice the pride in his voice as he described him. Clearly, anyone would be proud of him.
“He said you inspired him to be a priest.”
“Did he?” The old priest threw his head back and laughed abundantly. The sun lines around his eyes crinkled as he slowly shook his head. “I merely showed him the way when he came and confessed, but it was his choice to walk upon the path.” He let out a sigh as his demeanor turned serious. “Priesthood was not easy for him, initially,” he recalled. “Gabriel struggled for a long time before mastering the life of a man of the cloth. He makes me proud.”
“He told you that?”
“He confessed, yes.”
“Umm…why would a priest confess to another?” I was puzzled. “I mean, what could the saintly men ever confess? It’s not like they ever do anything bad or evil.”
“As Oscar Wilde had said: every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future. Every Catholic, irrespective of being a pastor or not, goes to a confessor. They count every sin through their acts or in thoughts.”
“What’s his sin? I mean, I know you can’t directly tell me, but can you at least point me in the right direction?”
He gave me one of those indecipherable looks with narrowed eyes and a mysterious half-smile. “You are worried about him.”
I shrugged. “When I came here, at Mount Carmel, I wanted nothing but to hurt him. I did not mind taking him down because I was angry at someone else. Gabriel, I mean, Father Sullivan was collateral — at least that’s what I wanted.”
I did not know if I spoke too much or gave away too fast, but I needed to know about Gabriel. And the only person who knew about him was Father Lucas.
“He is a good man,” he said. “But he is too hard on himself.”
“Why? I don’t mean to pry, but I want to understand him.”
His eyes were fixated on me, lost and a little distant. It did not make me uncomfortable, but it was a little odd.
I cleared my throat and titled my head to the side. “You are staring at me, Father,” I said sheepishly.
He inhaled a heavy breathe and exhaled. “For the first time in a long time, someone is looking out for him. I am glad to hear that,” he expressed. “And he needs it, too — the love, care, and affection. There’s something you should know about him: he is lost. He has lost himself in the quest of doing the right thing, with his drive to atone for his sins, but elementarily a man should not change. So, I think you can take him where he should be and help him find his way.”
His words were too heavy and too pious for my ordinary brain. “I don’t understand you, Father,” I admitted.
He nodded as if he knew. “His tale is not mine to tell. Someday, Gabriel will tell you about his past, and you have to promise me that you will be considerate.”
“I promise.”
I doubt Gabriel would ever open up about himself. His past was so closely guarded and shrouded in dark vines of guilt that he would rather bury it than dug out the old skeletons.
And I did not ever want to make him uncomfortable by prying out the secrets against his will. The purpose of my conversation with Father Lucas was to help Gabriel, not rile him up further.
I stood up, ready to leave. “Thank you for talking to me, Father.”
He smiled effervescently. “You are welcome.”
As I was turned around and walked towards the exit, he called out. “Sienna?”
“Yes?”
“He trusts you,” Father Lucas revealed. “Gabriel might never tell you this, but I know him. He trusts you enough to confide in you. Help him, please.”
At that moment, I had an inkling that he knew something about us. Not the extent of our sins, but some of it. But there was no judgment in his eyes. He took it kindly and without contempt.
“He is a priest,” I breathed.
“He is also a man who needs help — the right help.”
Hauling in a heavy breath, I nodded. “I will try my level best, Father. Good night.”
“Good night, child. Peace be with you.”
“And with you, Father.”

***
That night, instead of going to Gabriel’s rectory, I headed straight to my dorm. I knew he was waiting for me for our midnight rendezvous, but I could not risk it to anyone. After the warning pictures were sent to me, I could not jeopardize his position until I found out the person behind the photos.
Gabriel would be pissed, I figured, but his wrath was a risk I was ready to take.
And consequently, the new floor perfect, one who had replaced Irene, was at my dorm room early in the morning. Aimee Flores was not exactly the kind of bitchy personality that her predecessor was, but she did not like me either.
Not that I cared, once again.
“You have to see Father Sullivan before the Morning Mass,” she informed.
“Why?” I grumbled in my sleepy voice, still in my PJs.
“How am I supposed to know?” She scowled. “I have been notified to send you over. But I saw MatronMatron talking to him last night about your ‘red crosses’. Apparently, you have too many of them now.”
“What the hell,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
This was definitely not about MatronMatron or her stupid crosses. It was about my appointment with Gabriel last night, and he was just looking for excuses to ‘punish’ me. But, of course, he had to come up with a valid reason.
“Yeah, well—hell,” Aimee said, flickering her snotty finger at me. “Go and meet Father Sullivan.”
“I will meet him after the Mass,” I said, shoving the cover and abandoned the bed. “We have the first-class with him anyway. If he has to tell me anything, he will do it then or after the class.”
Her jaw practically fell on the floor. “Are you stupid or plain deaf? He has specifically asked for you in his office. What am I going to tell him?”
“Tell him I said later. I have to get ready now.” I did not wait for her response, simply walking past her and towards the washroom.
“Fine, have it your way then,” she barked before storming out of the dorm while all the other girls in the room just gawked at me with the same incredulous eyes.
*Ugh, hell.*

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**Who do you think is the snitch? Thank you so much for all your amazing support and love. Chapter 52 and 53 will be uploaded later today. So, yeah, triple update for the last day of September, guys.
Sending lots of love and hugs. XOXO**