She was young, nineteen, and had been the top student of her class at Saint Leo’s, nothing but straight A’s. Beside brains, she had long brown hair and curves. Teenagers and adults – she was used to seeing them staring at her. Not only here in Belgium, but also when she had gone backpacking after finishing high school. After she had told her mom, ‘Find someone else to pick on. I’m out of here,’ and had gone on a trip around the world. A trip on which she had gotten pregnant.
She stopped to look over her shoulder. She didn’t see him yet, the guy following her. Soon he would be there, though. She could feel it.
Damn. She had never run from anyone before. If only it had been just her, then she could make a stand, show this guy she knew how to fight.
She was running east now, the sun at her back, her body throwing a long shadow in front of her. That was good. This way the guy hunting her would not be able to follow her that easily.
She turned left and arrived at the convent with its bleak facade, bars in front of the windows, massive wooden door, and pushed it open.
Only a little. She didn’t want to be seen. But it was okay, no one inside the entrance hall. Good. She had hoped there wouldn’t be, convents these days being pretty much deserted places.
She slipped inside and closed the door, her hand holding and turning with the knob so it wouldn’t make a sound when it fell back into the lock.
Five steps and she was at the glass screen behind which Sister Bienvenue usually sat, no one sitting there now.
Probably having supper, she thought.
She lifted the basket to the granite stone in front of the glass window, then took it down again to place it on the floor and knelt down beside it.
As she looked inside, a lump rose in her throat. God, the way he was lying there, her treasure. Long lashes on closed eyes, a sleeping face that was unaware Death was looking for him.