“Well aren’t you just the perfect pious angel praying at the altar,” a familiar voice says directly behind me, every word barbed bitterly with sarcasm.
I stumble to my feet and snap my head around to face the last person I expected to see.
Ezra Van Gelden.
He's stepped out of the shadowy darkness surrounding us, into the halo of light cast from the seven candles at the altar. The candlelight glimmers off his dark bronze hair, and I realise with a start that he's changed out of his school uniform into black skinny jeans, brown leather boots and a dark royal blue sweater that perfectly matches his eyes.
He's a day student, though, not a boarder - so he should have gone back home, wherever that is, a long time ago. What's he doing here?
Ezra studies me, peering behind me for a moment.
