The importance of following God’s word in all things.
Because he only wanted the best for me. My soul mattered…
Anne snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Hello! Earth to Sara!”
I blinked to clear my vision and gave her my attention once again. “Sorry, what was the question?”
Stafford and Minnie snorted, sharing a look, but I ignored them. They loved any excuse to look down on me. Anne said it was their jealousy because I was special. Because Pastor Carter valued me most.
It didn’t stop it from hurting. In some ways, I was still your typical eighteen-year-old girl wanting to be liked and accepted by her peers. Most days I felt full and warm.
Some days…
I didn’t.
My cheeks flamed hot. I wanted to tell Stafford, with his dread locked hair and silly woven necklaces, to shut up. I wanted to tell Minnie that kissing up to every single elder, including my mother, wouldn’t make her more important.
But I didn’t.
Speaking my true mind got me nowhere.
There were consequences to voicing negativity.
Anne put her hand on my knee, her eyes forever kind. “The new disciples. The young one. What’s his name?”
“Bastian Scott,” I answered.
Saying his name felt strange on my tongue. Foreign and uncomfortable.
“Bastian? What kind of name is Bastian?” Stafford snickered.
“It’s right up there withStafford,” Anne retorted, her lips pulling upwards in a mischievous smirk. My eyes widened in surprise. Anne wasn’t known for her zingy comebacks.
“Ha-ha, Anne,” Stafford muttered.
“Seriously though, why haven’t they been to lessons? Or Daily Devotional? Or the Sun’s Morning Blessing?” Minnie pointed out.
“Pastor Carter has his reasons,” I cut in tersely.
Minnie and Stafford rolled their eyes in unison. “I should have known better than to say anything in front of super disciple,” Minnie snarked.
“Minnie, enough,” Bobbie snapped. “Pastor Carter has taught us to be kind to each other. So be kind.” Minnie’s eyes widened slightly but she shut up. Stafford looked away, his cheeks red.
We were all a little surprised. Bobbie wasn’t one to speak often. He was a quiet sort. Kept to himself. He only sat with us because it was expected. He only added to the conversation when it was required. I was shocked he came to my defense at all.
“It’s okay, Bobbie—”
He waved away my words as if it was all so inconsequential. I didn’t bother to thank him again. I wasn’t sure if it would even matter to him. Bobbie Mann was a mystery. More so than the other disciples. No one knew much about his past. He came to The Retreat when he was sixteen with nothing more than the shirt on his back. He didn’t arrive with anyone. He never spoke of his past. He never cried for lost family. He came alone. And that seemed to suit him. I always wondered where his parents were, but no one ever said. He was embraced as part of the family and that was that.
“Shit, there they are,” Stafford whispered and all our attention immediately went elsewhere.
The murmurs around us stopped. Silence blanketed everything as we took in the appearance of our newest family members. And it wasn’t the tranquil kind of quiet that we were used to. This was expectant. Curious. Even as we all tried to hide it. We observed closely, gleaning details where we could.
David and Bastian stood at the edge of the clearing. David had shaved and was now wearing a pair of camouflage pants and a grey T-shirt. Still wearing his own clothes, he looked hopelessly out of place. And tired.
Even from that distance I could see the dark circles beneath his eyes. He ran a hand over his closely shorn head and I got the impression it was an agitated gesture. His gaze flitted around the congregation before him, landing on each of us briefly but never lingering.
His brother was another story. Bastian stood tall, his shoulders rigid. He was neatly dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark blue button down shirt. His lips were pursed in a thin line and he lifted his chin almost defiantly.
