Page 61 of The Curse Breaker

“I do,” Benny whispered, her fingers tingling as they stared at one another. “And the part about kneeling has to be about the pews.”

“Nope,” he said, working his jaw again, his shoulders strengthening as he threw open the door, which was unlocked. “She means the hassock.”

“What’s a hassock?” Benny hurried inside and shut the door behind them.

The chapel was quiet, the windows giving them plenty of light. The room reminded Benny of Kimble’s boat cabin—all wood paneling and wooden pews with tufted cushions in red velvet. There was no altar. No crosses or signs of a particular religion. But there was a row of pews near the floor-length windows overlooking the Long Island Sound that were perfect for reflection. Kimble walked through the rows of pews, running his hand along the wood and ducking his head down under the pews, clearly searching for something.

“A hassock is a kneeler,” he explained. “I built some of these for Evelyn. I remember doing it.”

“Oh!” Benny said, getting excited now. “So you think Evelyn hid something in one?”

“That would be my guess.” Kimble overturned cushion after cushion, pushing the hassocks in front of pews out of the way. “This was a big project, so I didn’t make every one, but the ones I did have my mark on them. I leave a symbol on all my work.”

“Mark,” Benny repeated, doing the same search in the row behind him. “Do you mean initials? A shape? If you tell me what I’m looking for, it would help me search.”

“It’s a small compass,” he said. “Something no one would notice but me when I came back to visit long after others were gone.” She could hear the heartache in his voice.

A compass. Something etched in wood. Benny’s backpack felt like it was on fire. She took it off, placed it on the pew, and tried not to look at it. You’re reaching. It can’t be. “Can you show me what yours looked like?” She grabbed a small offering envelope and a tiny pencil from a pew, and handed them to him with trembling hands.

Why did you tell Evelyn I was the one who could break the curse? she recalled asking Aggy that day on the island. I know she and I are related, but I still don’t understand why I’m the key.

Aggy had bit back a smile. I can’t tell you that. But I promise the answer is coming soon enough.

Benny watched as Kimble drew a circle with lines resembling a star pointing north, south, east, and west. He’d left off the letters, but Benny knew she’d seen this symbol thousands of times before. That mark is on the bird Mom said my dad made me. She would recognize the symbol anywhere. Her heart beat faster. It can’t be. He can’t be.

“It’s a compass,” he said, looking down at the sketch. “Because life is a journey, and I have no idea where mine will take me next. I like to say the journey is more important the destination.” He looked at her then and offered a rare smile.

Benny’s voice was strangled. She couldn’t find the words. There is no way he’s… The symbol on the pew won’t match the one on my bird. I’m wrong. “I like that. A lot.” She could hear how her voice sounded shaky.

Kimble’s scowl returned, but Benny could tell it was for show. “Get back to work.”

They both did, Kimble tossing cushions, Benny neatly stacking them behind her. She tried not to think. Tried to ignore the thoughts screaming in her ears. She wished more than anything Zara was there so she could tell someone. Anyone. How am I going to tell Mom? How am I going to tell Kimble?

Fingers trembling, she searched on top of and underneath the pews, shimmying underneath them to run her finger along the beautiful lacquered wood. Finally her eyes landed on the hassock by the front windows. She went straight for it.

This hassock was different, the kneeler resembling a beam, with a cushion sitting on the ground in front of it. Benny ran her hand along it, the cushion pinned to the beam, forcing Benny to remove tiny buttons that the cushion was looped around. A quick look at the top revealed nothing. Same with the sides. She went to the end to flip the beam over, and that’s when she saw the mark.

A gasp escaped her lips before she could stop herself. The compass branded into the wood, the lines deep, dark, and meant to last forever. Just like the small bird in her backpack. A bird he—Kimble—carved—for her mom, never knowing Benny would eventually claim it as her own. The symbol on the wood wasn’t as worn on the hassock. No one had spent years rubbing their thumb over the mark wondering about the wood-carver.

Captain Jonas Kimble is my father. Benny felt like she couldn’t breathe. I have to tell him. I have to say something.

“Kid, you okay? Did you find it?” Kimble asked, ambling over.

Benny couldn’t speak. She pointed to the symbol.

“That’s me, alright,” he said, his voice softening for a second. “Good work. Let’s see if Evelyn hid the treasure here before Gracey shows up with that Rudd kid.”

Benny felt like the room was spinning as she scooched back, watching as Kimble dropped down beside her, his once neat tie now hanging loose around his neck, sweat creasing his brow. They had the same nose. And possibly the same chin. She definitely had his stubbornness. He’s my dad.

Kimble traced his finger along the tiny symbol. “Evelyn made me put a compartment in one of the kneelers. Now we know why.”

Pop! Kimble rapped the wood with his fist; then with a push of two fingers on the symbol, the end of the beam popped open. Benny’s throat went dry as Kimble pulled the narrow compartment out of the side of the pew. He reached a hand in and fished out a velvet pouch.

Inside was a stack of papers, folded together and tied with red ribbon. This time, Benny could see there was no invisible ink. Evelyn’s handwriting was clear as day. Kimble handed her the pages and opened the pouch. A single coin was inside.

Kimble held it up, and Benny heard voices as if the coin was speaking directly to her.

Welcome, Everly Benedict! Welcome home!