ANA’S POINT OF VIEW

Had sneaking into the shelter been a sport, I would not have won gold. I would not even win silver. Bronze, perhaps—had the judges been in a generous mood. Alright, lying is still a sin.

I would most likely fall over my own dress, run over a nun, and be kicked out before I could even take the first step. A little more, I said to myself. My heart was beating like the bells of church on Sunday.

Then my sock betrayed me. It glided over the smooth floor, and I hissed, "Shit!" before I could help myself. My hand shot across my mouth. A nun cussing? Straight ticket to hell. Forget purgatory.

The ancient staircase creaked with each stride I made, each creak more and more. I trembled at the voice, and I was already picturing the face of Madre Rosa in case she should see me. Her stare was enough to strip a wall. I was halfway up when I froze. There were footsteps along the corridor. Oh no.

I swung my head, agonizingly slowly, and there she was. Madre Rosa. With her arms crossed and her face as hard as glass. “Ana.” “Madre Rosa!” I smiled, trying to look innocent. I was, uh, looking at the floorboards. She lifted one brow. “This is my home.

The more important question is why you are creeping like a thief. I heard her rosary beads clicking, and my stomach was sinking. I stomped lightly on the wood. “See? Still strong. No collapsing tonight. ”Her face did not move. Those eyes said everything. I wanted to renew my commitment. “Why are you soaking wet?”

Her eyebrow was up, higher than heaven itself. Damn rain. “Baptism,” I blurted. She came up, and I turned away, leaning against the wall. I started up the stairs before she could dig deeper. “Ana.” I froze mid-step.“ Yes, Ma?” I replied, turning slowly, my smile fixed on. “ Where. Have. You. Been?”

I answered that he could help us. Would you trust me to say I went out for a walk? I shuddered, her eyes glaring at me. “At this hour?” "It is morning," I said feebly. She crossed herself, and her hands shook. “Ana. Tell me the truth. ”I sighed, my head dropping. No way out. “I went to the chapel. ”Her gasp was so great I thought she would faint. “The chapel?

The abandoned one? The one we do not allow you to approach? I nodded, bracing myself. “Why?” Her voice went up, high and disbelieving. “It is dangerous! Men like wolves there are. You know what has happened before—” “I know!”

My cheeks were heat-burned as I interrupted. Her eyes narrowed. “You saw someone.” “No!” The word flew out too fast. Her stare deepened. “You are lying.” “I am not—” My voice cracked. Her hand was on my chin, and I had to look at her. “Ana, liars burn in fire. Who did you see?

”The language was thick on my tongue. “Yes,” I whispered finally. Her face went pale. She caught me by the shoulders, shaking. “Who?” “The owner.” Madre Rosa sighed and laid a hand to her heart. Her eyes widened. “The man who owns the chapel? You spoke to him?” “Yes. ” Her lips spoke no words, but prayed. “Did he hurt you?” Her hands turned me round and round in search of marks. “Tell me, child, did he hurt you?”

“No!” I pulled away. My voice dropped. “He didn’t hurt me.” Not in the way she feared. Finally she asked, "What kind of offer?" “Thank God.” Then her eyes narrowed again. What did he want if he did not hurt you?

I chewed my lip, unsure. “He… made an offer. ”The room was vacant, and I walked as though I was being followed. But his face... his voice... his presence came back to me. I melted at the sight of Maeve with her stuffed bunny in her hands and the drool streaming down her pillow. “That he has a place in Albany. Somewhere safe.

”She said the word as though it were sacred. “Albany?” “Yes.” I twisted the edge of my coat. “But I told him no.” Her head snapped up. “You told him no?” “Yes.” “Why?” Because he unsettled me. By the time I closed my own door, I was tired.

Each look of his seemed to me like temptation cut into the flesh. "I simply do not believe we can trust a man like that," I said to myself. Madre Rosa crossed her arms. “That is true. But we prayed for help, Ana.

What if this is God’s answer? And what should we be able to bring him to God in the process? I bit my lip. She was right. The shelter was disintegrating. Time was running out. But to go was to be close to him, and that idea horrified me more than anything. "I do not wish to discuss this any further," I said to myself and turned away. “ We will pray,” she said softly. We may not be able to choose; it is His will. I did not answer

I turned around a little, but his finger touched my lips, and I was quieted. That was the thing about nuns. Always watching. Always judging. And if not them, then Him. I crept round the children’s room and looked in.

They slept, and their little breaths were sweet. I was holding the tub by the edge, knuckles white. I leant down and kissed her forehead. "Good night, Cookie Monster," I said. She stirred but did not wake. I kissed two others and slipped away.

His shoulders were mine, and they were hard and stiff. My wet clothes clung, heavy and cold. I leant against the wood and sighed. Half prayer, half oath, I said, Sin. A nun is not to feel this, I said to myself as I unzipped my sweater.

The vow of poverty was easy. The vow of chastity? A cruel joke. I got out of my skirt and threw it on the floor. The little tub in the corner was boiling, waiting. I was sinking down, feeling warm, relaxing my muscles, not my mind. Forget him, Ana. Just forget him.

But I could not. I knew I would see him again. And worse—I knew I could not resist. A faint creak split the quiet. I froze.

Then it was warm breath at the back of my neck. “Miss me?” My blood surged hot, then cold. His voice, low and dark, slid straight into my bones. I did not turn. I did not need to. “Sin, ” I whispered. He chuckled, amused. That is my name, is it?

God knows you belong to me, sweetheart. His shadow was near and heavy. I hated how my body was leaning into him, begging him to do more when my mind was screaming no. His voice brushed my ear. I turned a little, and his finger touched my lips, and I was quieted. “Go away.” “Liar,” he whispered.

“You do not want me gone.” His fingers touched my shoulder. My breath caught. His lips hovered near my ear. You cheated me today, did you? “No,” I stammered. “I did not—” “Do not lie to me.” His hand slipped down my arm, leaving fire in its trail. “I saw the way you looked at him. You wanted him.” “I did not!”

His shoulders were pressed against mine, and his hands were tough and uncompromising. “Shh.” That single sound owned me. Sin is half prayer, half oath. “Relax. Let me take care of you.

”God knows you are mine, sweetheart. “That is my girl,” he whispered. His lips touched the back of my neck. My body betrayed me. My heart pounded. I should have pushed him away. I never did. “Where have you been?” My voice trembled.

“Waiting,” he said simply. His hands slipped down and held me by the waist. “Watching.” I hated how my body was leaning into him, begging him to do more when my mind was screaming no. His lips followed the line of my neck, slow and possessive. "You have been good?" he said. “Other than today.”

“I—”He threw my head back, and his masked face hovered over mine. “Tell me, Ana. What do you pray for?” My chest heaved. His hand touched the water, sliding down. “I pray…” My voice cracked. “Yes?” “For God to forgive me.” laugh cut sharp, cruel, and soft at once. His lips pressed my forehead. You are mine, sweetheart; even God knows.

Then his mouth smashed into mine. His kiss was voracious, seizing all. His hands moved over me and burned every inch they touched. And I let him. Some sins never leave you, because some sins never leave you.

But the question that dogged me as I hung on to the side of that tub was this--What would become of my sin when it at last required everything of me?