Page 39 of The Idol

“Who left this unlocked?” Malachi’s frustration bled into his words as he walked deeper into the room.

My body tensed on instinct, ready to fight if it came to it.

But, after a long, suffocating pause, Malachi let out a displeased breath, turned sharply, and walked out, closing the door behind him with a thud. I stayed frozen, listening for the telltale sounds of the lock. To my surprise and relief, they never came. Instead, I heard him walk back around the side of the building.

I didn’t risk moving until I couldn’t hear even the faintest trace of his steps, then carefully snuck to the door, putting my ear against the wood to make sure there were no signs of someone waiting to ambush me outside. Concluding that it was almost certainly clear, I slipped quickly out the door, walking in the opposite direction that Malachi had gone.

Eventually, I made it back to the dorm without being spotted—at least I was 95% sure. And considering the night I’d had, I’d take it.

Inside, the old wood groaned as I shut the door behind me.

I flicked on the small lamp by the bed, the dim light filling the room. I sat down hard on the mattress, running both hands over my face until I felt the beginnings of a headache pulse behind my eyes.

I should’ve been celebrating a successful night of gathering intel. I’d found some rock-solid info that was sure to please everyone working the Covenant case.

And yet, I found my mind focused on one thing only.

Oneperson.

One sweet, innocent angel, whom I could no longer pretend was someone I could keep as a friend or just an asset.

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

Most of the kids born here had at least some medical records and immunization logs. They had documents about homeschooling requirements, and some even had custody paperwork. The kids that had been born on the outside had school transcripts and a bunch of other shit from when their lives were normal.

But Elior?

Nothing.

Nothing except a single piece of paper to say he existed.

“What kind of education did they give you?” I muttered to the ceiling.

I already knew the answer. I’d spent enough mornings with him to piece it together.

Elior wasn’t stupid. He probably had more emotional intelligence than anyone I knew. He was able to read and write, and he spoke well. But he’d been taught nothing except Malachi’s doctrine and whatever scraps of basic learning were necessary to keep him obedient and functioning.

No math beyond the elementary school level. No history except the version Malachi preached. No outside literature, and there was a high likelihood of there being no sex ed. He’d never watched television, gone on social media, or played video games. I highly doubted he knew what taxes were, let alone that they existed.

Simply put, he was sheltered beyond belief, and it made something primal curl hot in my gut.

Because the second I started thinking about how innocent he was, how untouched and unaware andgoodhe was—

Something inside me desperately wanted to take advantage of it.

I’d spent half my life burying this part of me. Locking it down so deep that even I barely acknowledged it existed.

I was bornwrong.

I was a child who would rather break a toy than share it.

The breaking point for my mother had been when I’d offhandedly remarked that I wanted to push another kid off the monkey bars on the playground. When she’d asked why I wanted that, I was truthful. I’d told her that I wanted them broken so that I could put them back together.

She’d looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time. She was scared of me.

She dragged me to her church and begged Father Kent to exorcise me. He’d refused, thankfully, but had agreed to counsel me regularly on the down low.

She hid it all from my father, scared that he’d insist on taking me to a doctor who’d declare me insane. Her biggest fear was being known as the mom with a fucked up kid.