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“No, please!” But they’re already on me, snickering at my pleas. Their hands encircle my arms, hurting me, and something deep down inside tells me they’d hurt me much worse if I tried to fight.
There was never a chance. Rebecca is always watching.
By the time we reach the front porch of her house, somebody has cut the alarm. She’s waiting for us up there, wearing an ankle-length robe covering a nightgown with a neck that buttons under her chin. Always modest, staring down at me from the top of the steps the way she looks down on all of us.
“Lift her head,” she murmurs when I won’t look at her. One of the men gives my long, brown braid a sharp tug that aligns my gaze with Rebecca’s.
And it’s chilling. There is no light behind her cold eyes. Her thin mouth is twisted in an ugly scowl that makes the sweat covering my skin turn icy.
“Take her to one of the holding cells for the night. Get her out of those clothes and into a proper dress,” she adds, wrinkling her nose. “We’ll deal with her in the morning.”
I’ve been just about as low as a person can be over the past couple of years.
But this is the first time I’ve ever hoped tomorrow never comes.
CHAPTER TWO
LEONA
It’s getting dark again.
I gaze up at the narrow window of my cell, which is barely wide enough for any light to come through. Even that is thin now, weak. I’ve been in here since last night, and it won’t be long before night falls again.
My eyes are burning—a night without sleep will do that. Will I be able to sleep tonight? That probably has to do with whether somebody actually comes in to see me, which no one has since I was thrown in here.
My stomach hurts. How long has it been since I ate? Dinner last night, and I wasn’t exactly hungry. Too worked up over what I knew would happen in a handful of hours. I only forced myself through a few bites for the sake of looking normal and pushed food around on my plate after that.
Was that what first set off suspicion? There are eyes on us at all times—always.
Then again, now that I have had all this time to lie here on this wooden plank that’s supposed to serve as a bed and think about it, Rebecca has probably been watching me more intently than ever since I asked if I could leave. I can’t believe I was naive enough to think I could get away with it.
I’ve gone through three of the four water bottles left for me, as much as I don’t love the idea of peeing in a bucket in the corner. The air is so warm and dry in here I couldn’t help but drink.
Not to mention the way I cried a river once I was alone. I needed the hydration.
How much longer is this going to go on? Knowing Rebecca, as long as she feels like it. I’m supposed to be learning a lesson here.
She’s probably spent the entire day coming up with ways to punish me. Right away, I want to turn my thoughts away from the ugly possibilities, but I can’t afford to do that. I need to face reality, so I’m ready for it when it comes.
There’s no getting ready for the sound of the lock clicking. My heart takes off like a triphammer, and I can’t keep from shivering even if it’s warm in here. I sit up, knees against my chest, like that will do anything to protect me.
Especially once I get a look at Rebecca’s face. Of course, she would want to be here. Whatever she’s planned, she’ll want to see it put into action.
Behind her are two men I recognize from around the compound. Men and women aren’t allowed to spend time together except during church service and mealtimes—even then, we sit on opposite sides of the room. And we aren’t allowed to speak to each other.
So these men aren’t strangers, even if I have seen them around. Henry and Elijah, father and son. They’re both tall, broad-shouldered, and lean but muscled. They share the same dark eyes and hair, though the older of the two has a little gray at his temples.
He’s not the one who holds my attention, anyway. It’s the younger one, the son, who I’ve noticed more than once from across the dining hall or when we’re supposed to be praying. Once, he caught me looking, and I forgot to breathe.
There isn’t exactly any time to think about that right now since they’re not here as friends. Henry sneers like he’s happy to see me here. I’ve never even spoken to him. Why would he be happy about this?
Rebecca folds her hands in front of her, standing with the men to her left and right. Elijah, unlike his dad, is unreadable. He could be angry, or he could be bored. There’s no reading him.
And no time to try before Rebecca clears her throat. “Leona, I’ve wrestled with the pain and disappointment you’ve caused me all day. I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed I am with your behavior. After everything we’ve done for you here, this is how you choose to behave?”
I know she’s not actually asking a question she expects an answer to, so I don’t bother saying a word. All I can do is try to look sorry while doing my best to ignore Henry’s angry glare burning holes into my skull. What is this man’s problem?
It doesn’t take long for me to figure it out, at least partly. “Henry and Elijah have generously consented to watch over you in their home until the next delivery.”
