I don't go straight home after leaving Calista's house with a cucumber gift in my bag.

My mother always stays behind at church on Sundays. She isn't an usher like Calista's mom, and she doesn't have friends to gossip with in the courtyard.

She simply likes sitting alone in the empty pews, whispering endless rosaries to Mother Mary.

My father, on the other hand, rarely steps inside the church. Sunday mornings are reserved for drinking with his friends.

Which means the house is empty-and the whole day is mine.

First, I have business in the cornfield.

As I reach the edge of the tall stalks, soft laughter echoes through the...