Tell Me No Lies
“Go on in and sit down,” Missouri said. Faith had no doubt the only reason she was allowed entrance was because Ellen Harvelle sent her. “I’ll be along in a minute. My tea’s almost ready.” Missouri headed down the hall, leaving Faith to her own devices. She’d barely managed to sit before Missouri was calling, “Girl, don’t you be puttin’ your feet on my table.”
Faith raised an eyebrow, foot raised a few inches off the floor. She glanced around before dropping it with a soft thump to the ground. She wasn’t stupid enough to ask a psychic how they’d known what was going on in their own home and she supposed that, if she ever had a home of her own, she’d demand those that entered respect it.
Missouri came in holding two glasses of iced tea, settling one on the coaster in front of Faith before carefully flopping back into her own chair with a quiet, contented sigh. “Now. What’s it you need?”
Faith pursed her lips, picking up her glass and putting it back down without taking a drink. She had shit that needed doing and it wasn’t going to get done until she’d finished this…business. “I need a confessor.”
Missouri raised an eyebrow. “Honey, I ain’t a holy woman. I’m just a psychic.”
Faith sighed and kneaded her brow. “The top Councilmen, the top ten in charge, they passed a rule. Anybody who’s committed a grievous act against a human has to speak to someone. Psychics preferred because you’ll know if we’re lying.”
Missouri studied her. “You don’t seem the type for playing by the rules.”
“I wouldn’t,” Faith said, annoyance roiling through her. “Except somebody I respect asked me to set an example. And it’s not a bad idea. If they talk about it, they can maybe come back from that place.”
“But not you,” Missouri said, jerking her chin at her. “You keep saying ‘they’. You can’t come back from that bad place?”
“I did my time,” Faith said with conviction. “I took my punishment like a big girl. And I’ve reconciled with what I did. It’ll never be okay, but I can live with it and I can atone for it and I know how not to go back there.”
“So you don’t really need a confessor, do you?” Missouri said, smiling a little.
“I don’t need somebody to hold my hand,” Faith said, shrugging. “But I have to do this so that the other girls know that talking about things isn’t bad.”
“And why me?” Missouri asked, watching her carefully.
“Ellen suggested you. She told Xander that you’re a shoot straight kind of woman and I appreciate that kind of honesty,” Faith said, fidgeting a little. Compliments of the nonsexual nature were out of her comfort zone.
Missouri nodded. “Alright. You’ll come have tea with me every other Sunday and we’ll talk about things.”
Faith coughed. “You, er, have to sign some paperwork.”
Missouri gave a little laugh. “Of course I do. You just leave it on the table. If you don’t run along now, you’ll be late for the party.”
Faith blinked, then snorted. Right. Psychic. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.