Into the Light (The Light, #1)(15)

“There isn’t much that can be done. We’ll have to wait. They’ll heal in time. Now what about here?” The doctor continued his exercise until he’d discussed her broken ribs, broken leg, and possible concussion. He explained that her cheek had hit the steering wheel of the truck. If she could have seen herself in a mirror, she’d have known that wasn’t the case, but she seemed to take the doctor at his word. Touching her tender throat, he asked again if she had pain. Her squeeze was softer than before.

“Does that mean that it doesn’t hurt there as much as before?” I asked.

She nodded.

“I believe you’ll be able to talk within a day or two,” Dr. Newton said. “Tomorrow or Friday we’ll remove this cast and set a new one that’ll allow you to walk. Your bone was broken, but luckily not severely. It didn’t break the skin. That’ll help with your recovery.”

“What about food and drink?” I asked.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked her. “Did you handle the lunch OK?”

She nodded.

“Another day of bland and then we’ll reevaluate.”

“I want to take her home.” I’d agreed to accept the Commission’s and Father Gabriel’s power, but I didn’t like Newton’s. I’d seen too many things over the past three years that I’d been at the Northern Light. In my opinion even the Commission didn’t fully trust him—if they did, he’d be part of the Assembly.

“We’ll need to watch how she adapts to the walking cast and alert the Commission. Where she goes from here is ultimately their decision.”

By the way she flinched at his last statement, the process was working. She was beginning to understand how much the Commission ultimately controlled. Tomorrow at Assembly they’d ask, and I’d be honest. I’m sure they’d be quite proud of themselves—the recent refinements with the indoctrination process were proving effective. The old ways produced slower results. As a member of the Assembly, I normally would’ve been pleased too, but this time was different. I wasn’t only an Assemblyman—I was her husband. The tighter Sara clung to my hand, the less content with the process I became.

Freeing my hand, I began closing the buttons of her nightgown. As I did, Sara raised her arm and pointed to her eyes. Father Gabriel’s teachings instructed me to reprimand her, to remind her of a rule she’d never heard, that females answered questions—they didn’t question. Instead I inwardly smirked at her ingenuity. The only rule she’d been told was not to speak, and while she obeyed, she’d found a way to communicate.

My wife was smart and resourceful. She’d learn quickly and we would succeed.

Newton’s beady eyes widened and met mine.

I squared my shoulders and relayed her question. “When will you be able to remove the bandages from her eyes?”

His lips pursed. He’d probably report this to anyone who’d listen. Surely Lilith and Timothy were champing at the bit for me to fail. The way I saw it, Sara had a simple question. It wasn’t as if she demanded equality; she simply wanted to know when she might regain sight.

“Brother,” Dr. Newton began, effectively removing her from the discussion. “As we’ve discussed, the concussion likely affected her optic nerve. Unfortunately that wasn’t the only injury to her eyes. When your truck exploded, the intense light and heat damaged her retinas. Both injuries require rest and time. I don’t foresee the bandages being removed anytime in the near future. It could easily be weeks.”

“Thank you, Doctor. If there’s nothing else, I believe my wife needs rest.”

I supported The Light and Father Gabriel, but as I pulled the blankets over Sara’s closed gown, I vowed to do what I could to make this easier on her. She was a person who’d lost the right to choose her future. It was now my responsibility, and I intended to do anything necessary for our survival. The stakes were too high.

“One last thing,” Dr. Newton said. “I was informed that Sara’s schedule will be set as of tomorrow.”

“Her schedule?”

“Yes. She needs to be awake, dressed, and have breakfast eaten by the time you leave for Assembly.”

My body tensed as I consciously loosened my grip on Sara’s hand. Modulating my voice, I asked, “Who informed you of this?”

“Sister Lilith.”

This time Sara’s grasp shuddered. She was a quick study.

“Because . . . ,” I coaxed.

“I don’t remember,” Dr. Newton replied flippantly, his lips sliding into a sleazy grin. Shrugging, he added, “It was something about training.”

Training?

I released Sara’s hand and stepped toward the door, hoping that Newton would get the hint that I wanted him out. I wanted them all out. “Thank you, I’ll be sure she’s ready in the morning. As long as you believe she’s healthy enough.” Being the only physician, Dr. Newton could provide her with a valid reason to avoid Lilith’s training, at least for a few more days.

“From what I could tell—with my limited examination—yes, your wife is healthy enough to begin training.”

Asshole!

I shook my head. Clearly this was Newton’s plan. If I wouldn’t allow him full access to Sara, he’d throw her to the wolves.