Into the Light (The Light, #1)(20)

My dampened face fell toward my chest as my tears morphed into sobs, each one deeper than the one before. The cries didn’t come from my throat but from my soul, consuming me. Each sob thrust deep into my heart, splitting it open, crying out for my stolen sense of self.

Under this onslaught, my heart was unable to beat at its normal rhythm, instead thudding in my chest, a dull repeating sound echoing in my ears. Without its steady rhythm I’d cease to exist. Then I realized . . . it had already happened. I no longer existed.

Whoever I really am is gone.

I gasped, but air wouldn’t inflate my lungs. My heart, my lungs . . . internally I was disappearing.

The bed rail beside me lowered. Jacob lifted my hand, but I couldn’t feel his touch. Even his words were gone. I heard only the sound of my cries. The bed shifted, but where our bodies connected there was no warmth. Mine no longer belonged to me. Jacob held someone else’s hand, his leg pressed against someone else’s thigh. The wails grew louder and louder.

Who was this desperate person?

Sara.

Jacob spoke to her, to Sara. He called her by name as he tried to calm her. His words were there, but I didn’t listen. His tone was comforting, but I was beyond calming. It didn’t matter, because he wasn’t talking to me. He was talking to the woman on the edge of panic, the woman who willingly lived a life of subservience. A woman who could exist in this strange and terrible place.

That’s not me! I didn’t want any of this. I wasn’t that person. There’d been a mistake, a terrible mistake. Sara and I were two different people, and somehow I had to make him understand. I didn’t know who I was, but without a doubt, I wasn’t Sara.

With a fleeting gasp, air finally came, finding its way to my lungs. The deep breath momentarily stilled the sobs, though the ringing in my ears continued. My inhalation brought the sharp pain back to my side. It was the hurt that Brother Timothy said was mine to bear for sins I’d committed.

Anger sparked a fire that had nearly died. I didn’t commit any sins. Perhaps Sara had, I didn’t know nor did I care. The only sin I recalled was allowing others to determine my future, to dominate my life and body. A cold chill went through me and a sour taste filled my mouth as I remembered Dr. Newton’s recent examination. I hadn’t been able to see their faces, but they had been there, both he and Jacob standing, touching and viewing my exposed body. It felt wrong, almost immoral. These people preached against sin, accused me of transgressions, yet expected me to submit to their violations.

Another jolt of pain in my side reinforced my newfound determination. Whoever I truly was, wasn’t gone, not yet. I needed to fight. But I couldn’t do it alone. Mentally I reached for Sara and she and I united. I wasn’t her, but I needed her body to save me. I couldn’t stay trapped any longer. I wouldn’t.

“Sara, that’s enough.” Jacob’s caring tone was gone. He grabbed my chin.

I pulled away from his grip.

My freedom was short-lived as Jacob recaptured my chin, his hold stronger than before. “I’m your husband. You’ll show me the respect—”

Shaking my head violently, I broke free. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have realized the futility of my protest, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was done living someone else’s life.

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed, blindly pushing against his unmoving chest with a new jolt of strength. Speaking came so effortlessly that I didn’t think about his warning or the consequences. The words spewed forth, louder and louder. “Stop! I’m not Sara! I’m not your wife! I don’t know you!” Each statement lifted the weight of helplessness from my chest. “I don’t belong here! You’ve all made a mis—”

My right cheek stung with the force of his slap.

Stunned back into silence, I covered my cheek and turned away. The hurt faded as I waited for Jacob’s next move. My earlier misjudgment was suddenly clear. No matter who I was, in my current condition, I was at his mercy—their mercy. With my lower lip tightly held between my teeth, new tears flowed, burning my eyes and leaving a trail of shame. For the first time, I welcomed the bandages that covered my eyes. I’d use them to my advantage, hide behind them and block out the world around me. I’d try to block him out.

But I couldn’t. I felt his strong hold, pinching my chin, pulling my face back to his. The lunch I’d eaten earlier solidified in my stomach.

“You. Are. Sara. Adams.” Jacob spoke each word staccato, as if saying them slowly made them true. He continued to hold my face painfully close to his as he took a deep breath. His exhalation skirted across my dampened cheeks. “Your speaking restrictions will resume, but first, since you apparently are capable of talking, repeat after me”—What the hell?—“‘My name is Sara Adams,’” he continued.

The stone my lunch had become in my stomach moved to my throat. I didn’t speak, keeping my lip securely between my teeth. His grasp on my chin moved behind my head, forcing my tender neck forward.

His tone morphed into a menacing whisper as he spoke through clenched jaws. “‘My. Name. Is. Sara. Adams.’ Don’t make me repeat your instructions.”

My teeth released their captive and my breathing stuttered. “M-my name is Sara Adams.”

Though his hand remained, the pressure eased.

“‘I am the wife of Jacob Adams.’”