Away From the Dark (The Light #2)(50)

Lowering her eyes, she said, “Yes, Jacob.”

“Look at me.” When she did, I continued, “We didn’t talk about your friend Rose?”

Sara’s forehead furrowed as she shook her head. “Rose? No, not Rose. Her name is Mindy, Mindy Rosemont. She goes by Mary at the Northern Light, and all I know is she’s married to a man named Adam.”

“Do you remember when you saw her?”

She nodded.

“What did you do or say?”

“The first time, I don’t remember . . . oh, yes, I told Raquel she looked familiar, but I didn’t know why until—”

Though she was whispering, I touched her lips with my finger. “That’s what you need to do, exactly like that. Please tell me you can do it.”

“I’ll try.”

Holding her hands, I found my even, demanding tone. “No, Sara, you must not try. Tell me you will.”

Through her lashes, she obediently replied, “Yes, Jacob. I will.”




It wasn’t unusual for Micah and me not to hear from anyone up at the mansion when we arrived. Since this was only a landing strip and not a functional hangar, our job had always been to call for the refueling truck and wait. It’d never bothered me before, nor had the cameras I knew were in the outbuildings, but today everything bothered me. My nerves were frayed.

With Micah next door and Sara sleeping, I paced the living room and waited for my phone to ring. A little after eight, Detroit time, it did.

“Hello?”

“Brother Jacob?”

“Yes,” I replied, not recognizing the number or the voice.

“Father Gabriel expects you and your wife at service in less than an hour. A car will arrive to transport the two of you and Brother Micah. It’ll be there in ten minutes. Be ready.”

“We will.”

The line went dead.

My mind filled with thoughts; most weren’t good or even promising. Surely Father Gabriel wouldn’t do this little reunion of Richards and Sara in front of the entire church, not that there were that many people at the Eastern Light—but still.

As I went to wake Sara, I thought about breakfast. There was no way we’d have time to eat much of anything. When I entered the bedroom, she was under the covers, curled on her side. Her light-blonde hair covered part of her cheek. The side with Thomas’s bruise was against the pillow. She looked more peaceful than I’d seen her in what seemed like forever—since before she left.

Part of me wanted to keep her that way, allow her to sleep, and let her remain in whatever dream world she was visiting. Wherever it was, it had to be better than here.

When I sat on the edge of the bed, she turned toward me with her knees still pulled up and reached out for my leg. For only a second, her sleepy eyes opened and a smile graced her lips. And then it was gone. For only a second, she’d felt safe, knowing I was here, but then just as fast the memories and reality had come back. The sleepy blue of her eyes had clouded with doubt and fear.

I smoothed her hair away from her face, revealing her bruise. “It’s time. I just received a call. There’s a car coming to take us to service.”

She nodded.

“Are you feeling all right? Can you get up?”

Slowly she sat, assessing. “I do feel all right, as good as I can, I guess. I’m a little hungry.”

I shook my head. “If you get yourself ready, I’ll check the kitchen and see if there’s anything to eat.”

We’d already determined that even the bedroom had a camera. When I pulled back the covers, she was still fully dressed. Her skirt was some kind of gauzy material that didn’t wrinkle, and other than shoes and whatever she needed to do privately, she was ready.

In the kitchen I found bread and hurriedly put it in the toaster. In the refrigerator I found her favorite flavor of Preserve the Light preserves—strawberry. I looked up as she walked toward the small galley kitchen. She looked so pretty. I was glad she’d rested, if only for a little while. Despite the ugly bruise, her coloring had improved, bringing back the pink to her cheeks and lips.

When she reached for the plate with the toast, she gasped, “Oh!”

I narrowed my gaze.

“I just remembered,” she said, recovering quickly, “how much I love the strawberry preserves. We’ve been out of it at the Northern Light for a while.”

I suspected that she had remembered something other than that, but I could play along. “I knew it was your favorite. It always has been.”

She shrugged as she chewed. Once she swallowed, she said, “Sometimes I forget that you remember further back than I do. All I remember is liking it.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s much better than the blueberry.”

I exhaled and prayed. Just maybe we could pull this off.

As I handed her a glass of water, we both turned toward the sound of knocking.

Taking a quick drink, she asked, “Is this like our service? I’m nervous.”

“It is, only smaller.”

I opened the door to Micah. Beyond him, on the driveway that passed the buildings and ran out to the landing strip in one direction and to the road in the other, was a black SUV. Under the warm Michigan sun stood a driver, waiting ominously by the car door. Sunglasses covered his eyes, and a white button-down shirt stretched over his large arms, a stark contrast to his dark skin. I immediately recognized him. Although Brother Elijah was on the Assembly, from my experience at the Eastern Light and the way he resembled a professional football player, I believed he also acted as a bodyguard whenever Father Gabriel was present.