The Chamber of Sins

“I am doing this for you, you know?” Robert hissed between his teeth and, clearing his throat, grabbed a box full of delicious apples.

After finishing the unloading, they retreated to the backyard. Sister Mary invited them to sit on a wooden bench in the shade of an old tree as the sun was getting stronger. The woman sat next to him.

“Tell me about her. How have you met her?” the woman inquired, her eyes checking Robert’s lean features. There was a sadness in her deep-set eyes.

“Hmm, it is hard to tell. I think it was at school,” the boy stuttered.

“So, you are colleagues at St Mary the Benevolent College?”

“Look, Sister Mary, how I met Margo isn’t important. I will help you find her. Actually,” he said with a touch of a smile on his face, “I will ask my father to help me. He has a former uni colleague who works in the police.”

“Thank-” Sister Mary got to say.

“There is nothing to find. Margo had just got bored and ran away with her lover,” a harsh voice interrupted their conversation.

Both Robert and Sister Mary turned to see the person who impolitely interrupted their conversation. Anna was facing them with a hollow grin on her small face. Nature had not been so generous with her — her prominent front teeth pushed her thin lips out, her bulging eyes were decorated with marsh-coloured pupils, and a dark, rough bang of hair covered only half of her broad forehead. She moved her limbs lethargically and stood in front of Robert.

“She said nothing about a friend like you,” she said inquisitively.

“It doesn’t seem that you two were on such good terms,” Robert replied.

“She was my friend!” Anna said.

“WAS? I doubt that,” the boy muttered, his narrowed eyes studying her face. “Anyway, it has been a pleasure meeting you,” he addressed sister Mary, totally ignoring Anna. Suddenly, he sensed someone staring at him and turned. A few steppes away, Alexander shifted his focus, pretending to be preoccupied with sipping his hot tea. Children whispering about the missing girl grabbed Robert’s attention for a few moments, but then he scouted around for Margo. He spotted her walking towards Alex. Robert suddenly felt unsettled for some unknown reason.

He stood up and headed in their direction.

“Hi, I couldn’t ignore that you were looking at me earlier,” Robert said, gazing straight into Alexander’s eyes. The boy’s hand trembled for a second, and a few hot splashes of tea escaped from the cup. The boy twitched at the contact of the hot tea with his pale skin. Margo jumped, trying to clean his burned skin, but her palms got through Alex’s flash. Robert watched her, unsettled. He stepped towards her, but the girl walked away.

“Hey,” Alex said with a trembling voice. “I would like to speak with you in private if that’s okay.”

The two boys went under a bald tree.

“I think you are lying about not knowing what happened with Margo. You see, Margo is my best friend. Something bad happened to her. She didn’t run away. She loved this place too much,” Alexander said, the inside corners of his eyebrows slanting upward. Robert looked at the boy’s tensed facial muscles. He wished to tell him what had happened, but Margo had forbidden him. Instead, she hoped to delay the news of her death as much as possible.

“I know what you’re going through, but it’s not my news to share. But, look, I am sure that we will find where Margo is,” Robert ended.

“By the way, she never told me about you. And we shared everything,” Alexander said.

Robert sneered.

“Really? I am hurt. Our bounding is something extraordinary, something to tell your best friend. Or not,” Robert said harshly. “And speaking of relations, who is that little girl from earlier?”

“She is my sister, Anna,” Alex replied, avoiding eye contact.

“Did you notice she used the past tense in the sentence earlier?”

Alex frowned, confused.

“She said -’ she was my friend’, which is inaccurate at this very moment, don’t you think?” Robert explained as he was examining the peculiar girl from afar. “This is my phone number. Call me if anything happens,” Robert said and gave Alex a piece of paper.

“Sister Mary, can you help me with something?” Robert asked loudly and stepped away from Alexander.

“Yes, my child?”

“I would like to see Margo’s room if possible,” Robert said.

“Of course, darling. Follow me,” Sister Mary guided him. Robert followed her through a shadowy hallway. The girls’ room was at the end. Large and airy, it couldn’t keep away the shabbiness and tediousness of the orphans’ life. Robert felt nervous and helpless.

“Here it is, her bed.” Sister Mary’s voice sounded like a poorly tuned guitar. Simple and quite dismal - a thick, grey cover coated the bed. Robert ran his hand over it - the material was rough and mended with a white thread from place to place. A coverless book was lying on a wooden cube made from a used pallet. ‘Love you till I die,’ he read. The book had worn yellowish pages. A book sign was hidden between the last pages.

The boy opened it.

‘Would you die for me? she asked.’ Robert read and moved the book sign slightly right. He remarked its quality - it was soft when touching, with exquisite blue-ocean embroidery representing a sea landscape. There were two initials at the base.

C.B., the boy murmured while laying down the book. A pair of plastic slippers was waiting by the bed for its owner to return. A small bag containing a few shirts and one pair of trousers was lying on the floor.

Robert glanced around. That was all - a human life so simple that made him feel ashamed only thinking of his vast dressing room from his place.

“I’ll shoot off,” he said, and, passing by a lovely hand-carved table, he went outside and gulped for air. Margo was there, leaning against his car, looking somewhere in the distance. Liquid essence was flowing from her defiant eyes, underlining her helplessness.

“Do you want me to tell them?” Robert whispered as he touched her icy hand.

“Just take me out of here,” she uttered.

A week had passed, and coming back to school after the horrifying events helped Robert relax. A gentle breeze tried its best to ruffle the fleshy, vernal leaves. Still weakened after a long winter, the sun was casting a soft yellowish light through the continuous floor-to-ceiling classroom windows.

“Hi, Roby,” a voice startled him.

“Hey,” Robert said, forcing a smile onto his face.

“You good?” Arden wasn’t for sure on the short side - his young, lean shaped body concurred with one of a basketball player.

“So and so,” he answered, avoiding the classmate’s stare.

Somebody hawked behind him.

“Your friend is so serene. Unfortunately, his grandmother will die this afternoon,” Derek whispered close to Robert’s ear.

“What have you just said?” Robert plunged to his feet, his eyes following the source of the voice.

“I said nothing.” Arden blinked rapidly.

“Not you,” Robert murmured, clenching his jaw. “I need to go to the toilet. Talk later.” He excused himself and nodded in Derek’s direction.

The boy gazed at his reflection in the mirror while running his hand through his hair. He wanted to verbalise something but realised that he might not be alone, so he checked the cabins one by one.