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“Can I stay here with him?” Noa asked her sister.

Naomi nodded, and Gabriel motioned for his brothers to give her some space. Only Sela stayed beside the bed, leaning against the wall by the headboard. Naomi placed the bag on the bed right next to Diel’s leg. She pulled out a small flashlight. The room was so silent they could have heard a pin drop.

Naomi closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Noa was a statue beside Diel, her worry for Naomi obvious by her tense body. Naomi’s hands were shaking, but when she opened her eyes, she stood and turned to face the rest of the room.

She opened and closed her mouth several times before she said, “Pl … please be … si-silent.” Noa’s breathing hitched at the sound of her sister speaking aloud. Diel could clearly hear that some of Naomi’s tongue had been cut off. She had a heavy, thick lisp. Her lips tried to form around words in lieu of what the tongue should naturally do, and it was clear by her weak voice that she rarely spoke, as if her vocal cords were stiff from disuse. There was a heavy dose of embarrassment in it too, of fear of what the people in the room would think.

Diel saw a wave of proud smiles pour toward her from her sisters … then she turned back to him.

Noa’s hand tightened to its maximum strength around his. Naomi swallowed again, another build-up to speaking aloud. “I am going to hypnotize you,” she said. Diel concentrated hard to pick out exactly what she was saying. Some of her words were muffled, difficult to decipher. “I will try my best to unlock what is plaguing your dreams.” She gave him a flicker of a smile. “I will try to give you some answers … some peace.” Diel nodded, and Naomi sat beside him, her petite body stiff. “I will have to touch you.” He felt his body lock up, repelling it. But Noa ran her thumb up and down the back of his hand in comfort. He turned to her. She nodded at him in encouragement.

Diel took a deep breath. He wouldn’t hurt Naomi. Noa trusted he wouldn’t hurt her sister. He had to trust himself too.

He turned back to Naomi. She held the flashlight up and switched it on. A bright red dot shone directly into his eyes, making him flinch. “Stare into the light.”

Diel fought through his discomfort and stared at the red light. “Just keep staring at the light, don’t look away.” Naomi’s heavy lisp and odd way of pronouncing words sounded like a lullaby of sorts to Diel’s ears; her tone was melodic. His tight body began to loosen as that red dot became all that he could see, its hazy walls swelling to engulf the room.

His brothers faded away to nothing—even his hand in Noa’s no longer became all he could feel. It was as if the red light brought warmth, like the relieved feeling of being caught out in the winter rain and then sinking into a deep hot bath afterward.

His eyes lost focus on the light, and he felt a rhythmic tapping on the back of his free hand. The light mixed with the tapping and Naomi’s soft instructions made his body begin to relax, tension seeping out of him. He took deep, slow inhales and exhales when Naomi told him to.

“You are feeling relaxed,” a soft voice said, the owner of that voice fading from his consciousness too. “The pain in your body and mind are melting away to nothing, leaving behind only peace. Leaving behind only a sense of calm.” Diel breathed evenly. He felt as though he was leaving his body, present but at the same time not. “Listen to my voice,” she said again. “Nod your head if you understand me.” Diel felt his head move, like it was moving of its own accord. Everywhere was dark now, but not the darkness he was used to. This dark was warm—not a sea of destruction, but small, rippling currents of blissful numbness.

“We’re going to go back to the day you entered Purgatory.” The voice seemed to bring him to a hallway of doors. It guided him to one right in front of him. “In a moment, I’m going to ask you to open it. But unlike in your past, there will be no pain here, no panic.” Diel stared at the door before him. “Open the door to Purgatory.”

Diel stepped forward and pushed it open. He was descending stone steps. He could feel the priests at his back. His heart was racing and his head kept ticking from side to side. He didn’t let them lead him away easily. Diel fought and fought against their hold, something inside of him stirring, growing in strength, telling him to tear them apart. To get back to where he was meant to be. Diel frowned. He couldn’t think where that was. But he couldn’t be in this place. He had to go back … back … something waited for him wherever he had come from …

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