The Swindler and the False God

The corpse was covered with a white sheet, one ankle exposed. Around it was tied a red cord identical to mine. The man escorting me said, “She was the last female swindler who stole the sacred relic.” I lowered my head and looked at my own ankle. The red cord was soaked through with rain, clinging to my skin like a thin ring of blood. The Saint looked up at me. He wore a white robe, a silver cross pinched between his fingers. His eyes were so clean they made you want to throw mud into them. “Name.” I smiled faintly. “Miya.” “Crimes.” “Theft, fraud, forging miracles.” I paused. “And seducing a member of the clergy.” The escort s**ked in a sharp breath. But the Saint only looked at me. “The last one hasn’t happened yet.” I raised my head. His voice was very soft. “Don’t be so quick to confess.”