“The reverend said it was the Lord’s hand that led him to the Branson place. He said it was his hand that plucked the eye out of Frank Branson as a souvenir before he threw on the first shovelful of dirt. He said he would do it again if he had to, seventy times seven, no matter who died, and God would forgive him.” I hold my hand in the air, fingers spread wide, like Trumanell’s. “He said it was this hand, my hand—and the head slam into the bathroom floor—that wiped away his memory of exactly what happened to Odette that night. I’m not going to let him get away with that.”
Evil reverend is evil. Got it.
