Angel Burn (Book 1 Of Angel Trilogy)

Chapter 8| Church Of Angels

Chapter 8| Church Of Angels

Lucy's POV

ON FRIDAY, I'd gone to school early so I could catch Lisanna before classes began. I sat in my Subaru in the student parking lot for over half an hour, watching all the cars pull in one by one, until the parking lot was a sea of glinting metal. Lisanna's car never showed. I waited until ten minutes after the final bell had rung, and even then I walked into the building slowly, glancing over my shoulder and hoping—but a tight, anxious part of me already knew that it was too late.

Then, later that morning, Lisanna's parents must have called the school, because someone overheard Mrs. Scarlett talking about it in the office. By lunchtime Pawtucket High was buzzing with the news: Lisanna had dropped out of school to join the Church of Angels.

All that day, I walked around in a daze, hoping it was a mistake, that Lisanna just had a cold or something, that she'd turn up later, smiling and perfect, just the same as always. But of course it didn't happen. Finally, between fifth and sixth periods, Levy showed up at my locker. "You know something about this, don't you?" she demanded.

I stared into the messy depths of my locker, suddenly close to tears. Around us, the hallway jostled with people. "Yeah, sort of," I said softly.

"Come on." Levy grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the school. As we left the building by a side door near the art room, we passed a couple of seniors, and I stiffened as I heard what they were saying.

"Well, I think Lisanna's really brave."

"Yeah, my cousin joined, and so did one of my mom's friends. They all say that angels really exist and that—"

I hunched my shoulders in my jean jacket and hurried out the door after Levy.

In the parking lot, we sat in her car and talked. I told her everything that had happened . . . except for the part about Lisanna's angel turning up on my doorstep. She wouldn't believe me, for one thing, but more than that I didn't really want to think about it myself. Anyway, she was stunned enough. She sat silently for ages, shaking her head. "Lucy, this is just . . . I mean, my God."

"Yeah," I said, and tried to smile. "That sort of sums it up."

"Well—what are you going to do?"

"Do?" I was sitting curled in her Corvette's bucket seat with my head against the window. I looked up and stared at her. "What can I do? She's already joined; she's not going to un-join."

Levy's hazel eyes were accusing. "And you know this how, exactly?"

I scraped my hair back, frustrated. "Because I saw it! She just stays there, getting sicker and sicker, until . . . something happens." I trailed off, seeing again the cold gray cloud that had drifted over everything.

"Something happens," repeated Levy, drumming her fingers on the dash. "Lucy, listen to yourself! It's not like you know."

"I do know!"

"You do not. All either of us know is that Lisanna has joined the Church of Angels and that it's because of your reading somehow and that you've got to help her before she ruins her life. Did you know that she was going to try for early admission at Stanford?"

I blew out a breath, wondering why I'd even told Levy. "Look, I have to go," I said, uncurling myself and grabbing my bag.

"Lucy, wait! You can't just—"

I was already out of her car by then, heading for my own. But I should have known that Levy wouldn't let it go.

The next morning, Saturday, she turned up at my house early. "OK, here's the plan," she said briskly, flipping her bangs out of her eyes. "I checked the Church of Angels' website, and the nearest church is in Schenectady. That must be where Lisanna has gone. There's an afternoon service today at two o'clock—you've got to go there and talk to her."