Page 91 of Revere

“Stay away from me.” I step back. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

To my surprise, he listens, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Still, that isn’t enough. It doesn’t erase who he is or what he’s done.

The Interrogator. A man instrumental in sending my brother to a psychiatric ward for two years. A man who ruined my life before I ever met him.

“Let’s go somewhere, and I’ll explain.”

“No.” I nearly choke on the word. “I never want to see you again.”

I turn before the first tear falls because I know, once I start crying, I won’t stop.

Maybe my mother is right. There’s something sick inside me after all. Because just like her—just like all my friends, I fell for a monster.

Clenching my stomach, I run from the room. I run until the maze leads me up and out of a strange building. Until I find the street, and clean air finally fills my lungs.

I run, and I don’t look back.

Take the bite of the apple and feel the bite of the snake.

It hurts like hell.

31

BURN IN HELL

PATIENCE

“You’re keepingto the edge of the room tonight.” Deacon Beech stops beside me, his blue gaze freezing me in place. “Not a fan of your parents’ parties?”

I scan the room, filled with money, fake smiles, and high expectations. “They’re fine.”

They’re not, but Mom has trained me well. To lie. To play the part. I know my role at these events, to be meek and quiet and not to piss her off if I don’t want to pay for it later.

She trained me like my father trained my brother.

Across the room, Alex is standing beside Dad, smiling as they speak to the Donovans. But there’s no light in my brother’s eyes. Only deception. A perfectly painted façade so no one notices the monster inside him.

Rolling my shoulders back, I remind myself to do the same. Lancasters don’t crumble under pressure; we turn into diamonds.

Mom catches my stare from the other side of the room. Her frown deepens when she sees me not smiling. Especially considering who is at my side. She gives a cue to stand taller and smile widely, so I do. If there’s one thing my mother caresabout more than how she appears to Sigma House, it’s how the church sees our family. Like God won’t see through the masks and lies.

“I hear your brother is enrolling in Briar Academy next semester.” Deacon Beech pulls my attention back to him.

“He is.” And now I’m frowning again because the thought of him leaving me alone at my parents’ house is difficult to swallow.

“You’re going to miss him.” The deacon reads my expression.

“He’ll visit when he can. It’s only a fifteen-minute drive.”

Deacon Beech hums, scanning me over. “I haven’t seen you at any of the church events this week.”

I shift on my feet, not sure what to make of the fact that he noticed. “I usually only attend service on Sunday.”

“Most people do. Faith is fickle like that.”

“My beliefs aren’t fickle,” I snap, not quite meaning to as I rub my elbow with my fingers. “I pray plenty between services.”