CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Curly ConfessionKit accepted the head teacher’s handshake and tolerated the fascination of the smaller children. A line of girls took it in turns to hug her around the hips, pressing their cheeks to her stomach as though farewelling a long lost aunt. She patted them on their heads, muttering, “Bless you, my child.”
“You don’t need to say that.” Jerry’s black eyebrows drew into a line. His height and flowing robes intimidated the smaller children, and they dodged his offered handshake with wide eyes.
“Bless you, my child.” Kit patted another hugger. “They like it.”
Jerry grimaced. “You’re not Catholic.”
As though to illustrate his point, a tiny boy tugged on her tunic. “Can you hear my confession?” His thin voice piped from rosebud lips.
Kit snorted. “Sorry, dude.
