Page 136 of Rivals

“Then he said it was just ruined because of the water. He said it wasn’t burnt, but that’s not possible. But the longer I think about it, I’m not so sure it was burnt,” she says the last word in a whisper, like she can hardly believe the words she’s saying.

Chris sits there for a moment, likely taking in our insane story. I’m waiting for him to tell us to get out or say we need to go to the doctor or maybe something more extreme.

“Well, do you think it was all just part of being high?” he asks. The question is vague and difficult to answer. I look at Revna, and she looks at me.

“I don’t know,” she says.

“Wedon’t know,“ I say after her because the reality is, I don’t. Now, I’m questioning everything and wish I had kept it. It just freaked me out, and I wanted it gone.

“Hmm, ok. Well, are you trying to ask me if it’s Him?” He points to the crucifix of Jesus hanging on a cross over what looks like a tub full of water. Does God talk to people who have never talked to him? Is that a thing?

Revna nods, and I look at Chris, waiting for him to launch into some kind of come-to-Jesus-moment, ‘You need to stop drugs,’ but he just nods and clasps his hands. “I’ll be honest with you both, I don’t know either. If it was Him, then it was. And if itis, then maybe it’s for a reason. If it’s the drugs and they make you feel like it’s Him, then maybe you should just go with it. I mean, it can’t hurt. I mean going along with it, not the drugs.“ He glances at her. I find it odd, but clearly, they have been talking.

Revna purses her lips. “I was hoping for something a little more concrete.”

He chuckles. “Aren’t we all, Revna?” he asks. Well, that was unexpected.

“So we’re supposed to just…go with it?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Again, not with the drugs. I would suggest forgoing those, but I won’t pretend to know or understand why He does what He does. That’s above my pay grade.” I grin at his joke. I’m happy he suggested no drugs. I thought Revna was moving in the right direction, but maybe I hoped more than I should have. I know she can do it, but she has to want to. I’m not sure she wants to anymore, and I don’t understand why that is. My head has been so caught up in my father and this impossible decision that I haven’t stopped to think about how being sober has been for her. Except, I know she’s not anymore. I could see it in her eyes.

Even if we could afford rehab, I don’t think she would go. I think it would make her crazy.

“Ok, then. Thanks for your help, I guess,” she says.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.” She stands, and I go with her. “I hope to see you both soon,” Chris says. Revna waves, and I nod my head in thanks. She leads the way out of the church.

The door slowly closes behind me, and Revna sits on the stairs. “Sorry, I thought maybe he would have answers. Or maybe he knows something I don’t, which seemed more likely. Or I am crazy, and this is all in my head. Maybe it’s all downhill from here.”

I sit down next to her and knock my knee against hers. “Have you heard the voice again?” She nods and digs her nail into a crack on the stairs.

“Was it bad or good?”

“Good, it’s always been good,” she says quietly.

“Well, maybe we should listen to Chris, then. It’s not hurting you. It seems to have been good guidance for both of us. I heard the voice, too. I thought it was the drugs, but I guess anything is possible. Based on what happened with that painting, I think it’s fair to say there are things we don’t understand. In this case, maybe that’s ok.”

She nods and looks behind her at the pretty structure. “I’ve always liked this one. It’s the only gothic church in Brooklyn.”

“Yeah, the other is in Manhattan. I went past it all the time as a kid.”

“I like that one, too. I sort of stumbled on it and worked up the nerve to go in. I think I sat there for an hour looking at the details. It’s nothing compared to what we saw in Italy, but it’s pretty.” I nod and put my hand on her thigh. She looks up at me, and I feel that warm and comfortable rekindling fire. For feeling fire constantly, this one is soothing. This one only comes from Revna.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” she sighs.

“Do you think it’s from the depression?” Revna asks me. “I mean, I’ve never been diagnosed, but I’m not stupid.”

“I have, and no, you’re not stupid.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I squeeze Revna’s hand, afraid it’s who I don’t want to speak to.

“Ow, Lach, that hurts,” she grumbles. I immediately release her hand and kiss her knuckles.

“Sorry, baby,” I mutter. She shakes it and lets the sleeve of my hoodie slide over it.

I put my hand in my pocket to pull my phone out and hesitate. If it’s him, will he give me some kind of ultimatum? Will he force me to choose now? I can’t right now, and we still have one last project. We still have to win this thing. What if it’s my mom or my sisters? What if he didn’t tell me everything, and he’s just using this as an excuse to get me back into the family for his own gain? Years ago, I would have gone because I was that lonely. But now it’s different, I’m not the same man I was.

Gritting my teeth, I pull out my phone while we dodge a few people down the sidewalk. Car horns blare, and people hustle to their destination. It’s a text from Elias; my last appointment tomorrow is canceled. I let out a breath and sent him an ‘ok’ back, putting it back in my pocket.