The Passage by Irina Shapiro

Author:Irina Shapiro
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Merlin Press LLC
Published: 2015-04-15T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Perhaps things would have seemed brighter in the morning had I not been woken up in the middle of the night by desperate screams. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was hearing since the sounds were muffled and swallowed up by the thick walls, but as I lay quietly for a few minutes, I heard Frances’s pitiful crying. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it sounded as if she were pleading with her husband. It got quiet for a moment, and I thought that maybe he’d finally had his fill, but then something went crashing to the floor and the sound that filled the narrow corridor was one of someone being torn apart limb from limb. I flew out of bed and ran for the door in my nightdress, but Hugo’s strong arms grabbed me from behind and lifted me clear off the floor, pinning my arms to my sides like a vise.

“You’re not going anywhere, especially dressed like that,” he said quietly as he set me down, turned me around to face him, and took me by the shoulders. “What were you planning to do?”

“She’s hurt,” I screamed at him. “She’s fourteen, for God’s sake. I have to do something.”

“Neve, have you considered that you might actually make things worse? Finch can’t take his anger out on you, so he will take it out on Frances and punish her for your interference, and will continue punishing her long after we are gone. Think, woman!”

“I am thinking, and I can’t just stand by and watch a helpless girl get abused by a man who’s more than twice her age just because he can. He beats her to punish her for his own sexual impotence, and eventually he will either do irreparable damage or kill her. Or, she will kill herself, regardless of the consequences. I don’t really believe in Heaven and Hell, but she does, and she will die knowing that her soul will forever be damned, and her body will be buried at a crossroads; her grave condemned to eternal desecration and shame. What kind of God allows that to happen to a mere child who has no say in her own fate?” I raged, staring Hugo down and daring him to give me one good reason for ignoring what was happening just down the corridor.

Hugo suddenly went very still, his eyes opening wider as he took in what I said. “You can see this?” he asked. “You see her taking her own life?”

“Yes, I see it. I see it as clearly as I see you in front of me,” I spat out, suddenly aware of the powerful weapon at my disposal. Hugo would not interfere in a domestic dispute between husband and wife, but if he believed that Frances was going to commit suicide, a mortal sin in the eyes of a Catholic, then he might be induced to act, driven by his faith to save her soul from eternal damnation and torment.

“Stay here.

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