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“Ev – everything is a fight.”
He chuckles. “It is now. Always has been.”
“For-for you?”
His sigh is so strong I feel warm breath on my neck. “I guess so. I don’t really have many memories before life turned into one big fight.”
“Tell me,” I gasp, my abdomen aching as my breathing steadies. The tops of my knees are wet with tears. “Tell me more.”
“More about what?”
“Before. What do you mean, before?”
“Before my parents joined Gaia.”
“Gaia?”
He hesitates, then says, “It’s a cult.”
“Cult?”
“Yes.”
“Youwere in a cult?”
“Yes.”
“But – but back at the house, when we were walking outside, before you – before Jason found us – you saidIwas in a cult.”
“That’s true, too.”
“I am the light. I am the truth. I am here to serve others,” I whisper to myself.
“Slogans. Phrases they drill into your head and repeat until they are meaningless but make you think they have deep meaning.”
“I – I feel good when I say them. When I find a fellow believer.”
“When was the last time you were allowed to go out into society and run into a believer, Paigelynn?”
“I – I’m not allowed because I need to be protected.”
“From ‘The Men’?”
“Y – yes.” A wave of nausea passes through my skin. “You told me you’re not my husband. When we were walking. When you pretended to be the dog trainer. But then you showed us your mark, and that mark means you are my husband.”
“Easy to fake a tattoo.”
“You faked it? But it looks exactly right.” My own mark feels like it’s on fire, resting below my hipbone, lower along my groin.
“People can fake anything, Paigelynn. Even a prophecy.”
The nausea increases.
“Tell me about your cult. What was it?”
“Gaia.”
“What is Gaia?”
