The Grace Year(44)

When the lodging house door creaks open, I hold my breath, hold myself still. A single set of boots comes toward me. I feel like that possum Michael and I found on the road leading to the meadow a few summers back. We thought it was dead, but it was just pretending. It seemed like such a useless survival skill at the time, but what else can you do when you feel completely defenseless. Outnumbered. Beaten.

The footsteps stop just short of my lower back. I’m bracing myself for impact when there’s a soft tap on the floor, followed by a quick retreat. Picking up the lamp, I manage to catch a glimpse of the hem of a moss-green cloak leaving the lodging house. Gertie.

And where she stood, there’s a small potato.

Snatching it up, I sink my teeth into it. The skin is scalding hot. It burns my throat to the point that I can’t even taste it, but I don’t care, anything for a moment of warmth. It takes everything I have not to devour it in one fell swoop, but I have to be smart about this. After all, I’m not sure how long my punishment will last. Tucking the remaining half into my pocket, I feel the smallest shred of hope.





“You,” Kiersten says, loud enough to wake the entire island. “You stole from the larder. How dare you.”

“What?” I struggle to prop myself on my elbows. “I did no such thing.”

“Empty your pockets,” Kiersten yells at me.

The potato.

“Hold her down,” Kiersten says.

The other girls grab me while Kiersten rifles through the pockets of my cloak.

A satisfied grin spreads across her lips like wildfire as she pulls the cold, half-eaten potato from my pocket.

“She’s the one that told us we need to ration, trust in each other,” Jenna says.

“She only did that so she could steal from us,” a voice hisses against the back of my neck.

“I didn’t steal it. I swear—”

“Then who gave it to you?” Kiersten asks.

I shoot Gertie a nervous look. “I … I just found it.”

“Liar,” she seethes.

The girls tighten their grip.

“And what happens to girls who spread lies?” Kiersten asks.

“They lose their tongues,” the girls answer in unison.

Kiersten smiles down at me. I know that smile. “Get the calipers.”

As the mob drags me out of the lodging house toward the punishment tree, I scream for her to stop, but I know it’s no use. Kiersten is the only God here, and she wants everyone to know it.

Ellie skips over to us with a rusty iron clamp.

Kiersten then grabs my face, squeezing so hard that I can feel my teeth cutting into the inside of my cheeks. “Stick out your tongue,” she commands.

I’m shaking my head, tears are burning the back of my eyes, clouding my vision, but I hear Gertie yelling, “Stop … I did it.” She pushes through the crowd to get to us. “I gave her the potato,” she says, pulling Kiersten away from me.

“How could you?” Kiersten seethes. “After I gave you a second chance? After I forgave you?”

“Forgave her?” I blurt. “You’re the one who should be begging Gertie for forgiveness. I know what you did. That was your lithograph. You took it from your father’s study and blamed it on Gertie. You ruined her life.”

Kiersten raises a brow. “Is that what she told you?”

“Come on, Tierney, let’s go,” Gertie says, locking her arm through mine.

“Yes, it was my father’s lithograph,” Kiersten says. “But that’s not why she was charged with depravity.”

“Please … don’t.” Gertie shakes her head, a haunted look on her face.

“Do you know what she did?” Kiersten asks, her eyes welling up.

“Don’t listen to her…,” Gertie urges, but I hold my ground.

“She tried to kiss me. And I knew then and there what she was … what she wanted,” she says, her chin trembling with rage. “She wanted me to do the dirty things that were in that picture. Sin against God.”

I feel the weight of Gertie’s body and I realize her knees must’ve gone soft. Clenching my arm tighter around hers, we take our first step back toward the lodging house, when Gertie’s head jerks back.

The sickening sound of a blade scraping against the back of her skull makes my blood turn cold.

I turn to find her crouched on the ground next to me, Kiersten standing over her with Gertie’s ribboned braid coiled around her fist. At the end, a bloody patch of scalp drips in the moonlight.





“You’re a monster,” I whisper.

“And you’re a fool,” Kiersten says, rolling her shoulders back. “But I am not without mercy. I’ll give you a choice. Embrace your magic … or face the woods.”

The girls stand there, watching in anticipation.

I look to Gertie, but she’s huddled in a tight ball on the ground, rocking back and forth like a broken seesaw.

“I can’t…,” I whisper back. “I can’t accept something I don’t feel.”

“So be it,” Kiersten says with the wave of Gertie’s scalp. “Good-bye.”

“Now?” I ask, fighting for control of my breath. “I can’t … it’s dark … at least give me until morning.”