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Why bring him back into my life only long enough to die saving me?

I stare at the candelabra beside the towering organ pipes, holding my thoughts there to keep from unraveling.

If someone comes for me again, the Boltons won’t stand a chance. They’re simply too gentle for the violence following me. Kindness won’t stop the man who dragged me out of my home.

I’m cut off from my parents, and the strangest part is that I don’t miss them. Not even a little. But sitting here, surrounded by families who know how to be warm with each other, I feel lonelier than ever.

I’ve slipped loose from my own life and landed in the middle of someone else’s, trying to catch up on everything I’ve missed.

Shadow Bluff is its own small world.

And I’m already lost in it.

After the service, everyone spills down into the church basement, where it smells like coffee and warm pastries pulled fresh from the kitchen. I cling to Calista because I don’t know where else to go.

People keep looking at me.

Up close, they smile and greet me politely. But once they move a few steps away, their heads tilt together and their voices lower. I can feel the weight of their interest skimming my skin even when I can’t hear the words.

It’s been years since I’ve had real social interaction, but I still recognize judgment when I see it. Apparently, church muffins provide an excellent stage for gossip.

Calista stays glued to her phone while Wayne is only on the other side of the room. They barely acknowledge each other now. I suppose that’s part of their strategy. Stay separate in front of Evelyn. Pretend the body has no desires as long as no one sees them being fed.

The line forms to shake Frank’s hand and offer compliments after the service. Evelyn moves beside him with grace, greeting everyone by name, laughing softly, making each person feel seen.

When the crowd thins for a moment, Frank leans close to say something in her ear. Whatever it is wipes the brightness from her face. Only for a second. Then she smooths the expression away and crosses the basement to a man I noticed during service because his mullet was hard to miss.

Evelyn draws him into a hug, and her hand trails down his arm as though she’s appreciating the shape of the muscle beneath his sleeve. He clearly enjoys it. She tips her head back laughing and lightly swats his chest in a way that feels too intimate for a man who’s not her husband.

Across the room, Frank watches.

His eyes track her until another man approaches him. This one stands out immediately, with the posture of someone who thinks the ground belongs to him wherever he walks. Frank says something to him, then leads him into a different room.

It probably means nothing. I don’t know these people. I don’t know the rules between husbands and wives here. But the image stays lodged in my mind anyway.

Why would a minister allow his wife to flirt with another man?

Across the basement, Wayne finally glances at Calista. That’s all she needs. She shifts her weight like she’s already halfway out the door.

“Tell my mom I went to the diner with some friends.”

She turns to leave, but Evelyn spots us and motions us over.

Calista sighs under her breath. “Fuck.”

We cross to Evelyn just as the man with the mullet excuses himself.

“Zaiya, this is our charitable acts board,” Evelyn says brightly, gesturing to a large cork board covered in pinned flyers and handwritten sign-up sheets. “We encourage everyone to do something for the community each month. Would you like to choose one?”

Calista rolls her eyes. “Mom, she doesn’t want to do that right now. She just got here.”

“I think it may help take her mind off her troubles.” Evelyn smiles at me with such warmth that refusing would be cruel.

I scan the options carefully.

My parents always treated charity like a performance. Something to prove to others how wonderful they are, not to actually help anyone. But here, people seem to approach it differently. The flyer for visiting the senior home catches my attention.

I was never close to my grandparents. They gave gifts instead of affection. When I was younger, I used to wish it could be different.