I start at the beginning, gazing at the grainy snapshot of Adam holding a bundle of near-black roses. His fist hovers over the door, trapped in time mid-knock. What would he have done had I answered? Or did he know I was a scared little lamb and was playing with his food?
None of this is apparent in the photo, so I detail the color of his hair—dark blond, height—five-eleven, and his weight—a slight one-eighty. He wore glasses during our face-to-face encounter, but they didn’t magnify his eyes. Adam, if that’s really his name, was out of place. Compared to the black pants and shirt he’s wearing in the photo, his attire that afternoon at Benny’s seemed forced, like he was playing dress-up.
“Are you sure you’ve only seen him twice? Once at Benny’s and again on that fucking run?” Lydia’s cussing too much, even for her standards. She types as fast as I talk, sending short messages to Talent one right after another. I’m not surprised when my phone rings, and I don’t need to check who’s calling. The ropes around my heart tighten, and I can’t breathe. “Don’t you dare fucking answer that motherfucking phone until you’re done telling me everything.”
With no air in my lungs, I remind her of the night she and Talent had to relight my candles after they’d gone out and I’d woken up in a fright. She’d given me the next morning off to rest, but instead of staying home, I called an Uber to the office. We made a pit stop by her favorite coffee shop for caramel fraps and cake pops.
“It was my attempt to butter you up,” I say sheepishly. “I was afraid you’d send me home when I showed my face at the office.”
She snorts and sends another text. “You sure do worry about that a lot.”
“The line was out the door, but that’s the place you love, so I waited. One moment I was fine, eavesdropping on the girl’s social media post in front of me, and then suddenly I wasn’t okay. It started with this heavy sense of dread, and I thought maybe it was because of the bad dream I’d had the previous night. I’d broken into a cold sweat, and my palms tingled. I was so convinced someone was standing at my back. Not for coffee, but to watch me—to get a closer look. But when I turned around, no one was there. The sidewalk was empty.”
Lydia inhales impatiently through her nose and asks, “Is that it?”
“No,” I mumble.
Yael has an entire family at home. A wife he’s been married to for decades, adult children, and growing grandchildren. I’ve asked him numerous times why he hasn’t retired, and his answer is always the same,“If I stop moving, I’ll die.”Surely, there’s a better job tailored for a man his age in the workforce. A position where he doesn’t chauffeur mafia lawyers and prostitutes from point A to point B all day. “That’s between you and God,”he’d said.“It’s not my place to judge, Miss Camilla. The money is good, everyone treats me kindly and fairly, and I get to drive around this beautiful city day in and day out. I have nothing to complain about.”
But when his dark brown eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, they’re full of judgment. He’s our driver, and if someone is following me, someone is following him. That’s not only between God and me. It involves all of us. The entire institution is in danger.
“I forgot that I have to explain every single fucking little thing to you,” Lydia snaps, and Yael has the decency to look away. “I hate talking. I really fucking hate hearing the sound of my voice. Because to me, it’s common fucking sense. If I ever felt like I was being followed, I would tell someone. You should have said something, Camilla.”
“I didn’t—” I start.
“Let me fucking guess,” she seethes. “You didn’t want to be sent away? Did it not cross your mind that I wouldn’t even have the opportunity to send you away if someone took you from me?” Lydia’s phone chimes. She reads the text, and her voice cracks when she asks, “When was the last time this happened?”
“Two weeks ago,” I admit with the taste of ash in my mouth. “The morning after my birthday party.”
“This is my fault,” she says after I’ve recapped the story.
I went on a run with Dog. We missed the turn. Someone was hiding behind a van. I didn’t think there was time to knock on a door for help, so my plan was to scream and hope it was loud enough. But Talent appeared out of thin air and saved the day. Instead of saying, “You know what, Superman. I think there’s someone crouched behind this minivan, maybe you should pick it up and check for underbosses or mafia gunmen,”I got into the car and we drove away, and I didn’t say a single word.
“Lydia, I’m sorry.”
Her phone chimes one last time, and mine hasn’t stopped ringing.
Lydia’s lips curve into a slight smile before falling flat. She drops the phone into her lap and says, “He told you his name is Adam, but that’s a lie, Camilla. The person who’s been following you is Vincent Coppola. He’s Luca’s youngest brother.”
“Ithink you should be baptized,”Elijah said on a sweltering North Carolinian Sunday afternoon.
The air conditioner in the small classroom had burned out. Ministry brought in portable fans that offered no relief, moving hot hair around like a blow-dryer. I’d swept my long, stringy hair off of my neck and bundled it into a bun on the top of my head, securing it with a pencil. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck, pooled between my breasts and behind my knees. Daddy would have killed me had he known, but I folded my jeans to my knees and pushed my shirtsleeves over my shoulders. Compared to the other girls in Sunday school, in pastel dresses and skirts, I was still the most modestly dressed.
“I was baptized as a baby,”I’d said, catching the way his icy blue eyes lingered on my exposed skin.
“You were dedicated, not baptized. And your parents made that decision for you. It’s time you decide for yourself, Cami. God places judgment on children and adults differently, and you’re going to be eighteen in a few months. I want to get married as soon as we’re able, but we can’t just announce our engagement on your birthday.”
“What do you mean?”His wandering eyes and talk about marriage felt intrusive in ways showing him parts of my body hadn’t.I pulled the sleeves of my shirt down and covered my bare shoulders.
“If you turn eighteen, and we come right out and say we want to be married, what will everyone think? They’ll think we’ve been fooling around for a while.”
“They’d be right.”I meant it to be lighthearted, to alleviate the sick feeling I had in my stomach.
Elijah’s expression hardened, and he looked around the room for unwelcome spectators before he’d grabbed my elbow. The tips of his cold fingers dug into my skin, and he bared his teeth when he said,“I’ve put my fucking soul on the line. I’m at God’s mercy because of you. Are you so selfish that you’d have me risk my position with the ministry, too?”
I shook my head.
He’d let me go, and I rubbed my arm.“Didn’t I just tell you God judges adults and children differently? Well, I’m an adult. He isn’t just going to forgive me for being with you, and neither will the church.”
