He shrugged. “Nobody important. Why? Did you want to watch me cleanse somebody? I think your mother is available.”
“Is she really sick?” Pippa asked, the fresh adrenaline rush giving her a headache.
“So, you did see our website.” Isaac’s lips turned down in a way that used to make Pippa want to run away. “How pathetic you wouldn’t make contact for your ill mother.”
“She made her choice,” Pippa said, the guilt still feeling like hot pokers in her chest. “What’s the truth?”
Isaac tilted his head. “George? Send Angel in.”
Pippa gasped and partially turned as the door opened and her mother walked in. She was pale and wan. “Mom.” Her feet were frozen in place.
“Mary.” Angel rushed forward and drew her up in a hug.
Tears threatened Pippa’s eyes, and she returned the hug, losing herself in her mother’s still-familiar scent for a moment. Then she released her. “How are you?”
“Well. So glad you’re back home.” Tears of real joy filled her mom’s eyes. “I knew you’d come home to us. I just knew you’d find the right path.”
Disappointment crashed into Pippa so quickly she swayed. Her mother hadn’t changed. Even after all this time, she was blindly following Isaac. For the first time, pity replaced the anger in Pippa’s breast. “Are you healthy?”
Her mom shook her head. “No, but I will be. The Prophet protects us all.” Gray liberally streaked her blond hair now, and fine lines extended from her eyes. The light-colored linen clothing washed out her coloring, but she was still beautiful. Her sparkling eyes met Isaac’s over Pippa’s head. “Thank you for bringing my daughter home.”
Isaac slid an arm around Pippa’s shoulders and pulled her into the side of his body, facing Angel. “Mary is my one true love. Of course she’d be here for this. For the cleansing.” His hold tightened. “I do have to know. Have you been pure for me, Mary?”
What was the right answer? The urge to punch him in the gut and tell him she’d found love nearly overwhelmed her. “Does it matter?” she asked, trying to remember the tricks Mal had taught her about getting information from a source.
“Yes.” Isaac turned her to face him. “It does matter, very much.”
“Why?” Which answer would get her what she wanted?
His chin lifted. “You always were full of questions. All right. If you’ve betrayed me, you will need to be cleansed in the fire if you’re to have any chance of redemption.”
“And if I haven’t?” The idea of where this was going cramped her stomach.
“Then we have more work to do here. I’ll put you somewhere safe while I do God’s work.” He planted his hands on her shoulders. “As God flows through me, you cannot lie. It’s impossible.”
The hell she couldn’t. She looked him directly in the eye. If he put her away somewhere safe, then she wouldn’t be able to find out what was happening. But his punishment for the truth might be more than she could bear. “Isaac—”
“I will confirm your claim of innocence, Mary. Quickly.” He lowered his face. “God demands you tell the truth.”
Isaac really believed his own bullshit, didn’t he? An iron fist grasped her heart and squeezed. The only way to find out about the attack was, apparently, to become part of it. Her legs trembled so hard, her skirt rustled. “I-I can’t lie. I have not been true to you.”
His chest fell. “Ah, Jennifer. I am so sorry to hear that.” He smiled as if somehow pleased.
Her mom’s voice quavered. “Jennifer? Why not Mary?”
Isaac slowly shook his head and released Pippa. “This isn’t the true Mary. I shall have to start seeking her now. This woman is an imposter. Put here by the devil to distract me.”
Right. Pippa clasped her hands together to keep from punching him in the nose. She was probably too old for the nutjob now, considering she was in her twenties. Where was Malcolm anyway? “You promised if I came back I could see Trixie, Isaac. Even God keeps His promises.”
“The assumption was that you were still Mary,” he said, glancing at his watch. Then he lifted his head and called out, his voice echoing around the room. “George? Please bring in the chosen ones.”
Pippa angled herself more toward her mother. If she had to get to her gun, it was going to be awkward with the skirt, but there hadn’t been another way to conceal the weapon.
She held her breath, hoping Malcolm was coming.
Women filed inside the room, and Pippa recognized one from her time with the family years ago, and one from ... the television? She tilted her head and studied a woman of about thirty with long red hair, freckles, and intense blue eyes. “You’re Sylvia Newtonburg,” Pippa said slowly. Wait a minute.
Sylvia nodded. “I am publicly anyway. My true name is Faustyna.”
