Deep Redemption Page 76

My stomach fell when I saw she was crying. “Shh,” I wanted to say. I was not sure if I did. “I love you,” I wanted to tell her, but I did not know if my voice failed me.

I saw Mae’s mouth moving, but I could not hear everything she was saying. I thought I managed to reply to the words I picked out through the loud ringing in my ears. But it was not enough. Blackness had started to seep into my vision.

“Disobeyed . . . ” I said when Mae asked me what had happened. I tried to tell her what I did. But my thoughts did not come quickly, everything was delayed and too slow. “I think . . . I was . . . drugged . . . ” She said more, but I kept forgetting what Mae was saying; what I had said in response.

“ . . . I am dying, Mae . . . I want to be with our Lord . . . ”

Mae tried to fight for me. I tried to tell her it was too late. A sickening feeling rolled in my stomach. I tightened my grip on Mae’s hand as I tasted blood in my mouth. I coughed, feeling the coppery wetness fall down my chin. I heard Mae cry out. And I heard the sweet sound of my Lilah too. But the darkness kept creeping in, chasing away my vision.

I was so tired.

I closed my eyes, holding on to the sisters I loved unconditionally as I passed . . .

I let the darkness carry me away . . . I just wanted to die . . .

But in the dark, there had been glimpses of light. Quiet, unfamiliar voices talked to me, telling I was going to be safe. They cleaned me. As I fell in and out of consciousness, I felt like I was floating.

When I fully woke again, it was in a small room. There was a little window in the far wall, and I was on a mattress—it felt strange. It was not comfortable, but it was better than the one I had slept on for years.

I tried to move, but I was too weak. Sweat trickled down my neck; an almost unbearable heat cocooned my aching body.

Then a door opened and my breath caught in my throat. A man walked through. When he saw I was awake, he stopped in his tracks. He swallowed, and I watched with confusion, and a hint of apprehension, as his dark eyes began to fill with tears.

My heart raced in my chest. “You are free,” he said softly. Three words that stunned me into stillness. “You are no longer in the main commune. You were rescued from a cell. A friend found you and was able to get you out of the commune.”

The man placed a hand on his chest. “I am Brother Stephen. I have no desire to hurt you . . . no one will ever hurt you again . . . ”

*****

“I wanted to come back. I wanted to come back and get you all.” I inhaled, trying to keep my composure. “We planned to, when I was fit, to try and get you all out too . . . but then we got word of the massacre. Of the prophet dying . . . and I was told you were all gone. I”—my breath hitched—“I could not bear the pain.”

“Bella,” Mae said, sniffing. I looked down at the table; my hand had been covered by all three of my sisters’ hands.

Seconds of heavy silence passed. “I wanted to die in that cell. After Gabriel had tortured me so much, I just wanted to die.” I ducked my head. “I had always tried to be strong, I needed to protect you all . . . but I could not. It haunted me every time the disciple guards would come for you.” I turned to Maddie. “Especially you, sister. What he would do to you.”

“It is okay,” Maddie said bravely.

I shook my head, feeling the wave of ire returning. “It is not. None of it is okay. It was why I acted out. I just could not bear it any longer.” I swallowed and whispered, “It was foolish. I was foolish. It only made things worse.”

Silence stretched for a few moments, then Mae said, “It made things better, Bella.” I blinked away the mist of sadness from my eyes and looked at my sister. “Your death . . . ” Mae shrugged and tightened her hand on mine. “It changed everything for us. It set what would result in saving us into action.” Mae leaned forward and ran her hand down my cheek. “I found this home. I found Styx. It was the Hangmen who killed Prophet David.” Mae paused and I watched her expression fall.

“What is it?” I asked.

“All would have been right then, but then Rider . . . ”

I took a deep inhale. “He turned on these men . . . on you.”

None of my sisters responded. That was all the answer I needed.

Mae looked quickly toward the door, then leaned in closer. “Bella, he was wrong. What Rider did was wrong, but he let me go. He could have forced me to go with him . . . but in the end whatever goodness was left in his soul let me go.”

As I stared into my sister’s eyes, I saw something that completely broke my heart. I heard it in her soft voice. “He wanted you,” I said. “Rider . . . he wanted you.”

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