A Deadly Influence (Abby Mullen Thrillers #1)(91)

Abby snorted. “Good luck advertising that. No one wants a pizza rolled like sushi.”

“We’ll see. Hank has done miracles before.”

“Where’s Leonor?”

“Upstairs with her brother.”

“How has she been?”

Penny put a spoonful of sugar in Abby’s coffee, stirring it vigorously until the entire brew swirled in a vortex that threatened to spill out of the mug. “Scared,” she said, handing Abby the mug. “Wouldn’t come inside until her brother looked through the house. And I could hear her pacing in her room until two in the morning.”

“But then she slept?”

“I think she slept almost until ten.” She gave a glass of water to Eden. “Are you sure you don’t want tea or coffee? It’s cold outside. Tea will warm you up.”

“No thanks.” Eden seemed aghast at the prospect of Penny starting to bang cupboards and drawers again.

“I talked to Leonor when she woke up,” Penny said. “I told her I was your mother. She seemed surprised.”

Abby nodded. “I didn’t mention that yesterday.”

“I also told her I adopted you after the Wilcox cult disaster.” A brief glance toward Eden. “She was interested to hear it.”

“Good.” Abby had agreed with her mother that if the opportunity presented itself, she should talk to Leonor about Wilcox. “But you didn’t mention Otis Tillman?”

Her mother folded her arms. “I’m not a rookie to this, you know.”

“I know, Mom.” When she’d been a child, her parents had gone through a lot to help Abby move on, leaving her past behind her. And Penny had done most of the heavy lifting. “I’ll go have a word with her, okay?”

“Sure, sweetie. I’ll keep your friend here company.”

Abby gave Penny a grateful look and went up to the second floor. Penny had put Leonor and Brian in her old room. The door was closed. Abby stepped quietly to the door.

Brian was speaking, his voice sharp, angry. “Leonor, for god’s sake, cut that out. I can’t . . . would you stop that? For just one moment?”

Abby knocked at the door. After a moment Brian opened it. His face was flushed, teeth clenched.

“Oh, it’s you,” he muttered. “Leonor can’t talk right now.” He gestured behind him.

Leonor sat on the bed, her eyes shut tight. She muttered softly to herself, her hands clasped together.

“I actually wanted to talk to you,” Abby said lightly. She grabbed Brian’s elbow and pulled him out of the room, then shut the door. Not letting go of his arm, she led him to her dad’s office, and shut that door as well. The office was a mess—a good indication Dad was working hard. The large whiteboard he used for brainstorming was scrawled with possible pizzushi slogan ideas.

“She won’t listen to anything I say,” Brian exploded as soon as the door was shut.

“Keep your voice down,” Abby said softly.

“How can I get her to see things clearly if she won’t listen? Whenever I say something about that damn cult, she starts praying again.”

“Chill, Brian.” Abby said. “It’s not your job to convince her, okay? You said so yourself: your sister never listens to anything you have to say.”

“Then why am I even here?”

“Because she needs someone who loves her to be by her side. Your role here is to hug her, and tell her how good it is to see her again, and talk about your happy childhood memories. Make her feel good.”

“Then how will we convince her to leave that place?” Brian looked helpless.

“We don’t,” Abby said. “She needs to decide for herself.”

“She had a whole year to decide for herself, and she didn’t.”

“She was sleep deprived with no access to information, surrounded by people who were taught to be afraid of anyone and anything outside the cult. Now she’s sleeping well. She’s away from the cult’s agenda and twisted thinking. She has time to think for herself. She can research things online. She can talk to people outside the cult’s circle of influence. And we can give her information if she asks for it.”

“So that’s it? We wait?”

“You wait, and have fun with your sister. Worst-case scenario, you got a three-day vacation with her. Is that so bad?”

“Yes,” Brian said. “I want her back. Not for three days. For good.”

Abby sighed. “I know. But whenever you start arguing with her, you’re making it worse. Leonor has been conditioned to resist anyone who criticizes the cult. You’re becoming the enemy. Why do you think I brought you along and not your mom?”

“Beats me. I thought it was because my mom nags.”

“It’s because your mom has made her opinions about the cult very clear. She’s the enemy now. Leonor won’t listen to anything she has to say.”

“Oh. But now I said some bad things about the cult.”

“Then we’re lucky you’re her dumb brother, and she doesn’t really listen to you, right?” Abby grinned at him.

“I guess.”

“One of the practices used in cults is teaching the members to handle negative thoughts. For example, in Leonor’s case, whenever she voiced questions or thoughts that were perceived as negative, she was ordered to pray on it. After a few months, she learned to pray when those thoughts occurred, even if she didn’t voice them out loud. They had short-circuited her brain, teaching her how to shut away negative thoughts about the cult.”