Lessons in Sin

by Pam Godwin

I braced for the pain that I knew her response would inflict. But it was Father Magnus who reacted. He stepped forward slowly, menacingly. I tried to hold my ground, but his powerful strides crushed the distance, forcing me to retreat. He crowded my space, his towering frame putting me at eye level with his chest. No part of him touched me, but I didn’t give him a chance, my spine bowing, my entire body recoiling as I fought to refill my lungs. He stayed with me, bending closer. I shuffled back, and he advanced again, and again, every step trampling my boundaries and incinerating my bravado. If I wanted to survive this, survive him, I couldn’t let him bully me. But my limbs flinched without conscious volition, my feet sliding in reverse, instinctively fleeing the nefarious vibes radiating from him. Tight cords and ridges of muscle—too much power lay beneath his unassuming clothes, ready to back up that threatening scowl. Was he angry? Or did he look at all his students like he wanted to break them over his knee? “What are you doing?” Pulse racing, I continued to retreat until my spine bounced off the doorframe. “Back off. Don’t touch me.” He didn’t lift a finger. No physical contact between us. But he didn’t ease up, either. His steps were deliberate and unhurried as he forced me into the hall with nothing more than his proximity. I couldn’t ignore how tiny and breakable I felt next to him, how physically inferior I was compared to his strength and size. But it wasn’t just...