Take Heart

Sundays Are For Confessions

Front page news. Again.

"Organ Harvester Continues to Terrorize City."

Emelie let out a sigh as she tossed the newspaper aside. She didn't need to read on. Every article was the same. Morbid descriptions of the murder, grisly photographs of the victim, and the repeated question: who is the Organ Harvester?

What would they think if they found out the murderer was in fact a quiet maid employed by the city's most beloved doctor? And what would they think if they knew the real reason for her crimes?

She turned to Percy. Would they have any sympathy? Would they be able to understand that she wasn't killing people for some sick delight but rather to save a little boy's life? Likely not.

Giving her head a slight shake, Emelie picked up the Bible that laid in her lap and opened it to a random passage. It had been months since she had last gone to church. Mr. Godwin had offered to take turns watching Percy so that she might attend, but she declined. What good would it do her? She was damned to Hell no matter how many hymns she sang or prayers she uttered. Her hands were stained with blood. There was no hope for her.

But that didn't mean Percy should be denied hope. That's why every Sunday, while the rest of the household met with the congregation, Emelie read scriptures to the little boy. Whether he took comfort in the words or not, she couldn't tell, but she liked to think that he did. So she continued to read to him, even as each verse reminded her of her doomed future.

The laboratory door slammed open in the middle of her recitation of a psalm and hurried footsteps descended the stairs. When Emelie saw the state Mr. Godwin was in, she closed the Bible and set it aside.

"Mr. Godwin, you look distressed," she said as she stood and approached him.

He scoffed and ran a hand through his dark hair, leaving it uncharacteristically disheveled. "Distressed? Yes, I am distressed. You are very observant."

Emelie fell back a step at his caustic tone. He noticed her reaction, and his expression softened immediately. "I'm sorry, Miss Waterbrook. I did not mean to speak to you in such a manner. My anger was misdirected."

Anger? In the six months she had been working for him, she had never seen him angry. And even though his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red, she still wondered if this was truly anger. Perhaps frustration or irritation. But anger? Something told her that his anger would be far more terrifying.

"Did something happen at church?" Emelie asked.

"Indeed it did." Mr. Godwin paced the room. "You would think after listening to a sermon, people would be more inclined to show a bit of compassion and tact. But no. Not Emma Beaton. That odious woman doesn't know the meaning of compassion or tact."

He ran his hands through his hair again, this time twisting the locks about his fingers and giving an exasperated groan. Fearing he might hurt himself, Emelie pulled a chair towards him and made him sit. He did so, though he continued to rake his fingers through his hair. Emelie quickly filled a cup with water and gave it to him. He drank reluctantly, but it at least occupied his hands with something other than his hair.

When he had at last calmed down, Emelie knelt before him and dared to ask, "What happened?"

He let out a long breath. "Ms. Beaton approached me after the service today. I was in a rush to return home, but she insisted on detaining me. She said that she was worried about me. That many of my supposed friends are. They believe I have an unhealthy obsession with my son's health. That it's consuming me. That I'm becoming a recluse."

While Emelie could not deny that his interest in his son bordered on obsession, she felt it was only natural. In fact, she found his devotion to the boy admirable. Endearing even.

"She worries that I'm clinging onto Percy because I'm afraid to lose the last piece of Harriet that I have left." His throat tightened, and Emelie could see him strain to get the words out. "They think I'm unfairly keeping him alive. That I'm holding him back from peace in the next life."

Tears were forming in his eyes. Without thinking, Emelie laid a hand on his knee. "That's not true," she said. "You are not being unfair. What's unfair is that a little boy's life should end before it's begun."

Mr. Godwin nodded, although he did not look convinced. "Ms. Beaton says that my preoccupation with Percy's health is preventing me from moving on from Harriet. She says I need to set my heart on other matters. Like finding a wife."

"What kind of an insensitive person would say such a thing?"

"My feelings exactly. I suspect she brought the subject up in hopes of lobbying her daughter as a potential candidate. However, I excused myself before she could do so." He let out another frustrated groan. "I still can't believe the way she spoke to me. Without a hint of shame or sympathy."

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Godwin. Some people don't understand the love a parent has for a child. Even some parents don't understand."

"No, they don't."

He hesitated before laying his hand over hers. Emelie hadn't even realized it was still resting on his knee. He met her eyes, and that warmth and affection returned. It sent a shiver of delight through her. But as the intensity of his gaze increased, panic overshadowed the pleasure.

"You do, though," Mr. Godwin said. "You've been the only one who has shown the least bit of understanding for what I'm doing."

Emelie swallowed hard. "You're trying to save your son. What more is there to understand?"

He squeezed her hand. Emelie twitched, afraid of what he might try to do. "Even more, you care for Percy," he went on. "And not just because it's your job. I remember the day I found you in his room, reading to him while Hope dozed in the corner."

"I could have chosen a cheerier tale than 'The Matchstick Girl.'"

Mr. Godwin laughed softly and loosened his grip on her hand, though not enough for her to pull away. His thumb softly caressed her knuckles, and a sickening fear settled in Emelie's stomach.

"It was the first time since he had fallen into his deep sleep that someone had treated him as a child and not a living corpse. You didn't just see a sick little boy; you saw my son. You saw Percy."

Her stomach clenched. She saw so much more than his son. But she couldn't tell him that. She couldn't tell him just how much she loved him.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Emelie."

Hearing him say her name caused her heart to swell. But she couldn't encourage this. It was wrong. "You're a brilliant man, Mr. Godwin," she said as she pulled her hand away. "You'd figure something out."

He released her without protest, although his face fell. Rising to her feet, Emelie collected the Bible and the cup and made her way to the stairs. Mr. Godwin let out a sigh as he turned to face Percy.

"I doubt I'll be returning to church," he said. "Let them think what they will about me. I will no longer subject myself to their scrutiny."

"I cannot say I blame you."

"You're free to attend on Sundays. I'll sit with Percy while you're gone."

Emelie had to hold back a laugh. "I have no business sitting in such a holy place, Mr. Godwin. My hands are stained with far too much innocent blood to think I'd be welcomed."

"Isn't church the place to confess one's sins?"

"Sins like mine? I don't see the point in confessing them. I'm damned one way or the other. I might as well buy out what time I can to find Percy a heart. At least that way my damnation will not be for naught."

"After all you've done for me and my son, Miss Waterbrook, do you really think I'll let you come to harm?"

Emelie gave a sad smile. "Even with your brilliance, Mr. Godwin, I believe that is a task far beyond your abilities."