Sinful Purity (Sinful Series) by K.A. Standen

edge of my bed, tying his shoes. “All right, Sherlock. You ready to unlock some secrets?”
    He couldn’t be serious. I had lived at this orphanage for over thirteen years. I was never able to discover one clue to my existence. That is, other than the whole Perkins thing, and I knew how that had turned out. What made him think that on a whim he could uncover every answer I yearned for my entire life? This was ludicrous, but I didn’t have anything to lose.
    “Hey, Brett. About last night—thank you.”
    “No problem, Liz,” Brett said casually.
    The whole air about him was easy, casual, like the emotional chaos of last night had never happened. I loved that about him. He made me feel better, really better, just like he’d promised. If it weren’t for my red, puffy eyes, I would have sworn I had dreamed the whole thing.
    As I dressed, my mind rambled. I couldn’t believe Brett was still here. My behavior the night before was deplorable. He had seen me at my very worst. Yet he hadn’t run for cover. In fact, he hadn’t even flinched. Last night was one of my classic episodes, the very same outbursts that had ostracized and isolated me when I was younger. But unlike all the kids at the orphanage, Brett didn’t fear me. He didn’t even seem to care that I had mutated into a raving, hysterical lunatic before his very eyes. He didn’t look down upon me or judge me in any way. He just wrapped me securely in his powerful embrace and waited for the storm to pass. Words couldn’t describe how grateful I was to him. I wasn’t the freak or leper I felt like, at least not to him. I was just Liz. How I wished I could see myself throughhis eyes. Brett always looked at me like I was more than just a ward of MIQ. He saw me as a real person, flesh and blood, full of idiosyncrasies. I appreciated Brett’s kindness and acceptance more than he could ever know.

Empty Secrets
    That Sunday morning after Confirmation was bright and unusually warm for springtime in Chicago. As Brett and I walked down the front stairs of the orphanage and out into the courtyard, I could feel the radiant heat from the sun seek out my face with its ferocity. Instinctually I tilted my face upward to catch all the light and warmth I could, hoping it would warm my wounded soul. I sighed with delight as I basked in the warm brilliance of the sun. It was a rare occasion that the sun would break free of the low-hanging clouds and fog that consistently lingered above the areas adjacent to the river.
    When we were graced with a clear, sunny day, the neighborhood would buzz with activity. Everyone left their habitually dim, secluded homes and businesses to sweep down upon the streets and parks for their own personal piece of sunlit paradise. The sounds of laughter from the children at play echoed through the streets with an intensity so great and voluminous thateven the dismal silence of Mary Immaculate Queen was no match. The neighborhood was rich with color, from the leisurely bicyclists and skateboarders to the random children at play. To me it seemed like a perfect day, so filled with promise and happiness. I thought to myself that this was the ideal atmosphere to unlock the secrets of my past, so that the bright light of the glorious day could shine down and illuminate all my questions. I felt as if God himself was blessing our mission. A deep smile broke through, making my whole body feel gleeful, almost giddy at the thought. Realizing that I was not alone, I slowly cracked one eye, taking a cautious peek to see if Brett had been watching me. Of course he had.
    “Well, Liz, if a regular old nice day makes you this happy, I can’t wait to see what you’d be like at the beach.” Brett mused.
    “The beach?” I’d never seen a beach, let alone been to one. “Why did you say that?” I inquired, my curiosity piqued.
    “I’d love to see you at the beach, Liz. Right now you have a look of complete perfection, like you’re utterly content just because