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The Girl Behind the Red Rope Page 13


  What if Jamie was right? What if Eli was the wolf in sheep’s clothing? What if Ben had been infected by the Fury and sent to deceive us all? But I just couldn’t bring myself to condemn the boy. He reminded me too much of Lukas. And of what my own child might one day be.

  “No,” I said. “I only spoke with him for a moment.”

  Rose didn’t seem convinced, and I suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. I felt sick.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not feeling well.”

  Rose reached out to steady me. Her expression softened. “It’s alright,” she said. “Maybe you should sit.”

  She gave my arm a tender squeeze, and I was certain she knew I was pregnant. My mother must have told her. Which made sense, because no one cared as much as Rose did about creating new, pure life and raising up a generation of faithful. Protecting the children was her sacred calling.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m okay.”

  The door opened and Andrew was escorted inside. He found me and walked to my side. “You’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “She’s healthy,” Rose said. “And so is the baby.”

  And just like that, she’d stolen my thunder.

  “I thought he should know immediately,” Rose said. “This makes two pregnancies this week. Alice is also with child.”

  Just as she’d hoped. I moved my gaze back to Andrew, who was staring at me as if unsure what to think.

  “You . . .” He glanced at Rose. “She’s with child?”

  “Ask her.”

  To me: “You’re pregnant?”

  “Yes.”

  His upper lip quivered. “Praise God,” he breathed. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Praise God.”

  It was too much for me. I no longer knew who I should give my loyalty to. Rose, yes, but what about the boy? Andrew, yes, but would I really have to move in with him now? My father, but he’d abandoned us and was an outcast. Jamie, but he was bitter. Bobbie, but Bobbie was warning me about everybody.

  In that moment, I identified more with my mother than with anyone else in the room.

  Rose placed her hand on my other shoulder. “You can move your things to his house next week. We’re all very happy for you, Grace.” And then, maybe sensing my apprehension, “Do you and Andrew need a moment?”

  “No,” I answered quickly. Maybe too quickly. I cleared my throat. “We can discuss it later.”

  I looked back at my father, unmoving inside the care room. Silence settled over us.

  “The boy is key here,” Rose said after a few seconds. “He must know something.”

  My mother spoke for the first time, voice frail. “Let me care for the child in my home. He’s only here because of me and my children. And if he is Ben’s son . . .” Her voice faded as she considered her own statement. She looked over at Rose. “I’ll shoulder the burden of caring for him until we know more.” She paused, and I watched the right side of her mouth turn up slightly. “He favors Ben, don’t you think?” she asked no one in particular.

  “You saw him?” I asked.

  “Only for a moment. He looks like Ben looked in old childhood photographs.”

  “The boy will be placed in custody,” Rose said matter-of-factly. “Don’t you understand, Julianna? Jamie has spoken the truth. Evil is among us. Please don’t let sentimentality compromise your better judgment.”

  My mother quickly returned her eyes to Ben. “Of course.”

  She would never argue with Rose, but she couldn’t hide her disappointment and I couldn’t fault her. If the boy was Ben’s son, then he was our family.

  When I looked back at my father, Bobbie was standing by his bed, arms crossed, looking at me through the glass. I gasped.

  “What is it?” Rose asked.

  None of them could see Bobbie, but they’d clearly heard me. I went with my gut. “I just remembered something else my father said.”

  “And?”

  “Eli.” I faced Rose. “The boy’s name is Eli.”

  She searched my eyes. “Does that mean anything to you?”

  “No. Should it?”

  Rose held my gaze for another moment, then turned for the door and left without saying another word.

  “Do you trust them, Grace?” Bobbie’s voice reached me through the glass.

  I jerked my head to stare at her. Blinked. Should I?

  “You should trust no one.”

  And then she vanished.

  ROSE HURRIED TO THE CHAPEL, DESPERATE FOR counsel. Her children were still in school and the town was distracted by the strangers who’d appeared out of nowhere.

  She remembered Ben well. He’d questioned their faith at every opportunity and tried to convince his wife to leave their church, to abandon her belief in what he called nonsense. He was a drunkard with a foul mouth who cursed God openly.

  And now he lay comatose inside the very safe haven he’d spoken against. They were keeping him alive, a kindness he hardly deserved but one she would extend in good grace. He had already paid a steep price at his own hand.

  Then again, what if he was overtaken by the Fury? How else could he have survived all these years?

  She needed to see Sylous. He would know.

  Rose unlocked the single door that led to the Chapel’s basement, stepped onto the landing, locked the door behind her, and descended the staircase. She flicked the small light to life and walked to the center of the room.

  She’d waited less than ten seconds when the atmosphere of the room shifted. A shift she never tired of. A shift she would never get used to. He had come. Her body tingled with relief and satisfaction.

  “Sylous,” Rose whispered.

  He moved into the light, his white attire crisp and his face draped in shadows.

  “You called for me,” Sylous said.

  “Yes,” Rose replied.

  “You’re concerned about the trespassers?”

  “Yes.”

  “You should be.” His eyes were dark. He clasped his arms behind his back and took another step toward Rose. “They don’t belong here.”

  “The man is unconscious,” Rose said. “We’re safe.”

  “You are never safe from the evil that lurks in darkness.”

  She hesitated, not sure how to feel about his tone. “He’s their father.”

  “He wasn’t chosen. The blood that runs through his veins doesn’t change what he is.”

  “And what is he?”

  “Ask yourself how he came to be inside Haven Valley. How has he survived so long? And why is the boy unharmed? Then you will know what he is.”

  A Fury. But she couldn’t see the Fury in the boy. How could something so innocent be so evil?

  “I don’t think you understand the way evil works, dear Rose.”

  “I do,” Rose said. “But he’s a dying old man.”

  His eyes narrowed. “If you knew how evil worked, righteous rage would replace your pathetic human sentiments.”

  “The boy is just a child who . . .”

  His hand flashed, slapping her cheek with an open palm before she saw it moving. The force of his blow snapped her head sideways. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  She stood stunned for a long moment, fingers trembling, trying to understand Sylous’s actions. He’d never dealt a blow to her before. She wouldn’t have even considered him capable of such a thing.

  He reached up, slid his hand behind her neck, and pulled her ear close to his lips. She could feel his hot breath against her skin.

  “Have you become so full of yourself and the power I’ve given you that you think you understand better than I? That you could see better than I?”

  “No . . . No, please.”

  “I realize this show of force is unsettling to you, but the wrath of God is designed to get your attention. Do not forget that you’re alive today because of me. Do not think you can survive without my protection and guidance. Doubting God and his servant will seal your fate.”

/>   He released his grip and calmly clasped his hands behind his back. Rose stumbled back, gasping. She was afraid to look him directly in the eye, but also afraid to tear her eyes away from him.

  “Fear me alone,” Sylous said in a soothing voice, “and I will always protect you.”

  Rose swallowed, bottom lip trembling. “I will never stop fearing you.”

  His face softened and he spoke in the gentle voice she’d grown so accustomed to. “I’m sorry I had to do that to you. But fear has its reward.”

  She tried to calm her breathing, mind still reeling.

  “Try to understand, my love,” he said, reaching his hand up to gently wipe away her tears.

  The moment his skin touched hers, the terror building in her chest began to ease, sedated by her deep longing for him, her desire to feel him close.

  “I must protect Haven Valley from the deception that would consume it, however loving or kind it might appear at first,” Sylous said. “The fate of humanity depends on it.”

  “And I am your servant,” Rose replied, melting into his touch.

  “The intruders must be dealt with.”

  “How?”

  “After five days the sheep will show themselves as wolves. If you don’t kill them both before they reveal the truth of what they are, Haven Valley will be lost.”

  Her pulse quickened. Five days . . . It was a new revelation.

  Rose glanced up and met Sylous’s gaze, only inches from her face. She didn’t want to doubt him again, didn’t want to feel his wrath replace the warmth that now held her. But she couldn’t imagine murdering anyone, much less a boy.

  He knew her mind. “Was the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah murder?”

  “We could send them away,” Rose dared to say.

  “To return in yet another masquerade of light? You still underestimate the power of the Fury.”

  Rose searched her mind for a solution that didn’t require violence, but nothing came to her.

  “Can you kill them?” she asked. “The way you killed my father?”

  “Fear doesn’t work against the Fury. Even if it did, God seeks your obedience, dear Rose. Pleasing him is all that matters now.”

  Sylous reached up and held Rose’s face in his large warm hands. His deep green eyes pulled her in. “The bride looks to you for guidance,” he said.

  For a few moments, Rose stood in his presence, torn by conflicting emotions. “Kill them,” she whispered, as if saying the words out loud might give her courage.

  Sylous leaned in close and placed his lips against hers. Tender and warm, his kiss buzzed inside her mouth. He held her there, caught up in a perfect moment, and when he released her, a new resolve had flooded her chest.

  “Don’t be deceived by their show of innocence. If the Holy Family allows the boy to live, all of heaven will weep for your souls.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes, her body still caught up in the pleasure of his mouth.

  Listen to me, and I will always guide you, his mind sang to hers.

  She felt him leave, felt the dankness of the room return at his departure, but she didn’t move.

  I will do as you say, she sang back.

  And so she would.

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  I STOOD INSIDE THE PIERCE KITCHEN THE NEXT AFTERnoon, watching the children, but my mind was on my father, dying in the clinic not far away. And on Eli, who’d been secluded somewhere, and on Jamie, who was hardly the caring brother I’d once known, and on Bobbie, who told me to trust no one. Rose would sense if I was distracted, so I tried my best not to show any concern. I was beginning to see what Bobbie meant when she said I would need help, because my whole world had been turned inside out in the last few days and I didn’t know where to turn.

  My father had told me he’d come to bring Eli. The boy was his gift and I was to keep him safe. A gift in what way? Where was he? What if he would be the undoing of all that was sacred in Haven Valley? What if he’d been sent to save us?

  I felt like I was walking on thin ice, and it was already cracking.

  My father had called Eli my brother. Brother. I’d brought it up to Jamie the night before as we sat silently for dinner, and again he’d cut me off. But I pushed.

  “Do you know where they’re keeping him?”

  “In the deepest hole, where he belongs,” he snapped.

  “Really? Where’s that?”

  “For all I know, they’ve already sent him packing. Forget him, Grace. You’re in dangerous waters already.”

  And with that, he’d pushed away his plate and left.

  Mother had said nothing, though I suspected she wanted to support me. She just couldn’t bring herself to upset Jamie.

  The news that Rose needed me to watch the children for a couple of hours that afternoon had come as a relief. She’d welcomed me into her home ten minutes earlier. Now I stood in their kitchen as Levi worked on his daily reading at the table and Stephen finished his lunch.

  Rose was attending to Evelyn upstairs, where she’d been sequestered. The poor girl’s rash was continuing to spread, and cooling ointment had to be applied several times a day to give her relief. Rose was terribly concerned that the rash would spread to others in the community.

  Strange, I thought, how Evelyn had contracted the rash even though she hadn’t left the approved path, while Stephen, who had, showed no sign of it. I hoped Dr. Charles would be able to identify what might have caused such a mysterious outbreak and the way to cure it before it spread.

  Footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned to see Rose descending the last few steps to the main floor. She walked past me and placed Evelyn’s dirty lunch dishes in the kitchen sink before staring out the small window above the sink.

  “I shouldn’t be gone long,” she eventually said, turning. “Keep the children inside.”

  “Of course.”

  Rose held my eyes, offering nothing but a flat face. Something was eating at her mind. The children picked up on her heaviness and remained stone still.

  She crossed to a small side table along one of the kitchen walls and picked up a piece of paper. “I made a list of required vitamins you should be taking now that you’re expecting. They’re important for the baby’s development and overall health as much as yours.”

  I took the list from her hand and scanned the items.

  “You need to start taking these today—do not delay on this. Every moment is critical in an infant’s development. Do you understand?” Rose asked, tone harsh.

  Her foul mood was palpable. I nodded.

  “It’s important that we follow the law to the letter,” she snapped. “Not just when it’s convenient or when we agree.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She gave me a curt nod and headed to the front door. “I’ll have Dr. Charles put these items aside for you. You can retrieve them after I return. They must be picked up today. You’re responsible for everything that happens to that life inside you. You must be vigilant.”

  And then she was out the front door, closing it firmly behind her, leaving me and the children in silence.

  A SEMBLANCE OF NORMALITY HAD SETTLED OVER the home within a half hour of Rose’s leaving. Stephen and Levi peacefully occupied different spaces in the main front room, each lost in their own activities. Levi was tucked into the folds of the large couch, reading a newly approved youth novel, while Stephen sat on the floor beside the couch, coloring. He hummed softly to himself, a habit he’d started a couple months ago that usually had Evelyn up in arms. How could she possibly concentrate on reading while he made so much noise? His humming was sweet and made me smile, so I allowed it.

  For a few minutes, I almost forgot how upside down my world had become. Maybe I would sit the children down and tell them a tall tale. We could all use some good laughter. Maybe I would set them outside of Evelyn’s room with the door open so all three could hear the story.

  The grandfather clock dinged as it did every
hour, and Levi glanced up at me. It was time for Evelyn’s next salve treatment. Rose had left written instructions: Apply a thin layer over all affected areas, wearing gloves to protect yourself from infection. Don’t allow the other children to see the rash or they might catch it too.

  “You two stay here,” I said. “I’m going to check on Evelyn.”

  “Okay,” Stephen replied without taking his eyes off his work.

  I hurried up the stairs and into the bathroom next to Evelyn’s room. On the counter, Rose had laid out several pairs of blue surgical gloves beside a jar of salve. After taking what I needed, I made my way down the hall.

  I knocked on Evelyn’s door, heard a soft call from inside, and poked my head in. The room was cast in natural light streaming in through the two large windows on one wall. Evelyn was perched on her twin bed, one of two that matched. Matching nightstands, a dresser, and a single closet rounded out the room. A gathering of large sunflowers was blooming in a tall glass vase and sat on the small nightstand beside Evelyn’s bed. Not a speck of dust; everything was in perfect order.

  “Beautiful flowers,” I said.

  She was frowning, staring at the wall.

  I stepped into the room and softly shut the door behind me. “Your mother picked them for you?”

  She hesitated. “Father.”

  “That’s kind of him.”

  She was wearing a simple sleeveless dress so the itchy red blotches that ran the length of both her arms could be free from the uncomfortable fabric of sleeves. The rash had spread all the way up her neck to the underside of her jawline. It was no wonder she was in such a foul mood. Maybe this explained Rose’s as well.

  I set the salve down on the nightstand beside her sunflowers and slid the gloves over my hands.

  Evelyn watched me dip into the salve, then held out her right hand. “Not too thick,” she snapped.

  “Right,” I replied.

  “If you make it too thick then it could get worse—my mother told you that, right?”

  I looked into her worried eyes and tried to sound certain. “Yes. I just apply a thin layer.”

  She finally nodded for me to continue. So I did, taking extra measures to make sure the salve covered her entire arm, but not too heavily. We were silent as I worked, her eyes on every movement I made.