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“Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome.” She sat back in her seat and peered through the car window as the bare trees made way to open fields with hay bales wrapped in white so they looked like giant marshmallows. They passed a row of houses.
“Where exactly am I taking you?” Aaron asked.
“The Methodist church on Ocean Spray Avenue.”
If he wondered why she was attending a church meeting at seven in the evening on a weeknight, he didn’t voice it. Maybe he knew about the meetings for sexual assault survivors. Shame squeezed her throat tight, making it hard to swallow.
He pulled the car in front and parked it, opening his door, as if he was going to get hers for her, but she beat him to it.
“I’ll see you in an hour. Thank you.” Brynn rushed out of the car, not even looking behind her as she closed the door and ran up the uneven steps to the church entrance.
Walking inside, she sucked in a breath of cool air that smelled like old books and dust. She turned down the steps leading to the basement, where the temperature dropped another few degrees, and tugged her grey sweater tighter before opening the door with shaky hands. Several chairs formed a circle, a few of them occupied by familiar faces: Jasmine who owned The Lighthouse Inn and part of Atlantis; and Belle, the sexual assault nurse examiner who’d taken care of Brynn when she’d first arrived in Shattered Cove hospital battered and bruised with a broken arm and ribs. Of course, Cassidy Clark, the group therapist, was there, refilling her coffee by the refreshments table.
Nerves twisted in Brynn’s gut. She’d gone faithfully to these meetings for a while, but she’d never spoken up. She hadn’t been ready. But maybe now she might be able to.
She walked towards the therapist, nodding as Cassidy gave her a warm smile.
“It’s nice to see you again,” Cassidy remarked.
Brynn grabbed a mug and tea bag before pouring hot water into the cup. “I’m . . . I think I need to talk to someone.”
Cassidy stepped closer, as if to give them a little more privacy. “Do you need to speak with me privately? Or are you okay with sharing in the group?”
Brynn lifted the tea bag before dunking it in the hot water again, turning towards the small group. She’d heard Jasmine’s story and figured she might be the one to give her the best advice in this situation. “I’d like to try in the group if that’s okay?”
“Of course. We’re just about to start.” Cassidy grabbed her coffee and headed to the group where Charli was already sitting. Another two women Brynn didn’t recognize filtered into the room as Brynn squeezed her hand around the hot mug, grateful for its warmth. She walked to an empty chair and took a seat.
Belle smiled at her. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Thank you.”
“Alright, I think we can get started if everyone wants to grab a seat. Most of you know the drill. Feel free to help yourself at any time to refreshments at the table over there.” Cassidy pointed behind Brynn. “Now, I like to begin every meeting with some affirmations. Would you all like to repeat after me . . . I am strong.”
“I am strong,” the women spoke in unison.
“I am brave. I am worthy.” Cassidy’s sharp gaze circled the room, taking in every face with her welcoming smile. “This is a safe space. Anything you say here will remain private. You all know I’m Cassidy Clark, the facilitator of this meeting, and Belle, my co facilitator and a certified SANE nurse. Did you want to start us off, Brynn?”
Panic crawled over Brynn’s skin like a thousand fire ants, terror clamping her mouth shut. Her sister’s face flashed in her mind. Her sister deserved justice, and at the very least to have her story told. It was one way Brynn could honor her, and it was a stepping-stone. Maybe if she shared about her sister, it would get easier to talk about her own past trauma.
“My sister and I grew up in what I now know was a cult.” Brynn searched the faces in the room. Some eyes widened with shock, and others with sympathy. “My sister and I were total opposites. She was so strong and stood up for me and herself.” Brynn’s throat clogged with emotion, making it hard to speak as her eyes stung. “The prophet and his disciples didn’t like that. Women weren’t allowed to do very much. Being obedient and submissive were absolute musts. From the time we were children, we were not given any room to express ourselves. We were to be obedient robots, there to serve and care for the other children and the men.” Brynn closed her eyes, trying to stave off the tears. “We were brainwashed with their dogma. We really believed this was our true calling, that this was the way to eternal salvation. We followed the prophet’s commands, as if they were straight from God, and didn’t question anything . . . but my sister did.”
Brynn opened her eyes, locking gazes with Cassidy. “And they punished her for it. They blamed a possessive spirit for overtaking her body because she asked questions and wasn’t satisfied with their answers. She spoke out when they married me off at fifteen to an almost forty-year-old man as his sixth wife.”
Jasmine gasped.
Brynn shook her head, anger rising. “And when it came time for her to marry, she downright refused. By then I was . . . falling apart. But I was too scared to run away. She stayed, for me.” Hot tears fell down Brynn’s cheeks. “I was scared I would burn in hell if I left. I was terrified of the world beyond the compound. We’d been told horror stories that made it seem like the rest of the planet was evil. By then, I had my son, uh, daughter, and I thought of this innocent little baby that needed me to protect them. Could I risk it all for my selfishness to not want to serve my wifely duties whenever my husband demanded?” Brynn gave a mirthless laugh and shook her head. “Rape was a word I learned much later . . . My sister finally had enough. She ran one night, but they caught her. And they punished her so severely . . .” Brynna’s swollen and bruised face flicked through her mind’s eye like a reel from a horror movie. Her dress torn from the lashes, her back bleeding.
Everyone in the compound had been summoned to witness the punishment that the prophet and Paul doled out.
“That was the first time I spoke up.” And I have the matching scars to prove it. With each truth stuffed down for so long that bled from her lips, Brynn gained a little more of her power back. “But it was too late.”
A sob tore out of her. The more she spoke, the faster it all came. A riot of emotions gurgled in her gut, spreading out through her veins until she was more manic than anything.
Belle handed her a tissue and moved to sit closer, Jasmine took up the spot next to her, and Charli scooched closer—their warm steady hands on her back giving her the strength to tell the rest of the story.
“Being told almost every day how inherently evil you are, that you’re bad, stupid, not good enough . . . eventually, you believe it.”
