Page 90 of The Sinner and the Priest: Part Two

I now sit on the basilica’s grand steps, facing the piazza. “Ciao, Wesley. I have questions about Beelzebub.”

I hear him take a breath, but then rustling and interference travel across the line. Dominic’s thick, deep voice comes on next.

“What happened over there?” he asks in Italian. “I’ve had messages from new contacts in Rome.”

“It’s probably better for you that I don’t answer that yet.”

He pauses. “I need to tell you something⁠—”

More rustling and interference.

“Give me the phone.” Raven’s voice cuts across Dominic’s. I hear his muffled protest, then a grunt as if he’s been winded, or punched. Two seconds later, her clear, unhindered voice fills the line.

“I did a reading on her belongings,” she says.

“Who?”

“Hannah.”

My pulse skips. “Has she returned?”

“No. I meant that I did a reading on what she left behind.” Annoyance clips her tone. “Before she came to the States, she was in Spain.”

“Yes, we⁠—”

“Let me finish. The Hildegard Sisterhood keeps records of everything. Hannah was in Spain for years before heading to the States, but there’s no record of her being there before age fifteen. This is normal for an orphaned Sinner. What’s not normal is that, when I did the psychic reading of her personal items, I didn’t see a little girl in Spain. I saw her in Italy, at the beach in summer, surrounded by flies and gelato dripping down her hand.”

“How can you be sure it’s Italy?”

A lengthy pause fills the line. “Because I saw you.”

My breath halts. “What?”

“I mean, you were younger. But I’m certain it was you.”

I drag my palm down my face, mind reeling.

“What personal items did you use for the reading?” I ask, tensing and bracing for her answer.

“Ballet slippers. Old ones. And a pink ribbon.”

The piazza grows very quiet, as if all life ceases to exist except for the buzzing swarm growing in my mind. I pull the phone from my ear and tap it to my forehead, trembling, trying to reject the reality.

Maria was a ballerina.

Raven is many things, including a liar. But in this, every cell in my body knows she tells the truth. Too many things haven’t added up since I returned to Rome. I even suspected this myself only moments ago.

Sound punches through the buzzing. The fountain is still running. Somewhere behind the church, a car revs its engine. Raven shouts through the handset to see if I’m still here.

But I’m not.

I’m back in Naples, that summer on the beach in my dream. The sky is blue, not gray. The flies are thick. The heat is forcing us into the gelateria. Maria reaches for a cone, and the shopkeeper’s oily gaze drops to her mouth. She doesn’t move when I tell her to go outside, and the delay cost the man his life.

She accused me of stealing the mark.

She went into the water.

Went down.