Where Isaac’s money was hidden. So much money. Pippa shook her head. “Let’s just go. We don’t need their money.”
“Yes, we do. It’s the only way to get freedom,” Trixie had whispered urgently. “You have to believe me.”
Tamarack shook her head. “It’s a mistake. You two will get caught and punished.”
“Come with us,” Trixie said urgently. “If we make it, he’ll punish you.”
Tamarack’s green eyes darkened. At about six feet, she was tall for a girl, but her features were delicate. “If he does, then he does. I’ll pray for you both.” Then she ducked her head and hurried down the hall to the laundry.
Pippa needed to throw up. Bad. She’d seen Trixie’s friend. The guy had gang tattoos all over his arms, his neck, even on his face. “Maybe we should just cut through the fence and run into the mountains. We don’t need help.”
“Yes, we do.” Trixie snorted. “Say we get to the mountains. What then?”
Pippa couldn’t answer. There wasn’t an answer, really. “What about my mom and your sister?”
“We can’t tell them. They won’t come with us, and they’ll tell Prophet. You know they will.” Trixie peeled off to go pretend to do women’s work in the laundry.
Pippa climbed the stairs to her bedroom, feeling around a thousand years old. She entered, stopping short at seeing her mother sitting on the white coverlet on the bed. “Mom.” Hope burst through her so quickly her skin flushed.
Her mom had lost weight lately but still looked beautiful. “I wanted to check on you.” For a quick moment, something familiar showed in her eyes.
“I don’t want to marry him.” Pippa shut the door. “It’s not right.”
Her mom stood and crossed to her, distress wrinkling her cheeks. “He’s the Prophet, and he knows best. We’re safe here, Pippa. With the family. We need them.” She grasped Pippa’s arms.
Pippa pulled away, her heart falling inside her chest. It hurt. “We don’t need them. We never did.” She wanted to be angry, so angry, but the sadness was eating her up.
Her mom didn’t try to touch her again. “I love you, Mary.”
Being called that was like a punch to the stomach, and Pippa nearly bent over. She spun around to face her mother. “Do you ever wonder what he’d think about this? What my father, the man you supposedly loved, would think about my being forced to marry a thirty-five-year-old man who thinks he talks to God?”
“He does talk to God.” Her mother’s face turned so pale her lips were blue.
She didn’t have an answer for the other question, now did she? Pippa shook her head. “My father wouldn’t let this happen.”
“Your father is dead.” Her mother’s shoulders straightened, and her chin went up. “This is our family now, and we will follow the rules here. Someday, you’ll understand.” She left and quietly shut the door behind her.
Tears filled Pippa’s eyes. How could her own mother do this?
What if, somehow, her mom was right? What if Isaac really did talk to God? Sometimes it did seem as if he knew things others didn’t. And sometimes in his presence, she felt a peace she couldn’t understand.
Trixie said it was drugs and tricks.
Was Trixie right?
Or did Isaac have gifts Pippa shouldn’t deny? What if she was going against God’s will? Who was she to do something like that?
But sometimes, instincts mattered. Right? Or she wouldn’t have any.
She’d been forced to spend enough time with Isaac to know and see that he liked hurting people. Especially women. He enjoyed their pain. He enjoyed making her witness their pain.
That had to be wrong.
Pippa swallowed and moved to the bed and her few meager possessions. She didn’t know who was right or who was wrong. But it scared her to death to think of marrying Isaac the next day. Some of the things he’d done through the years, that he’d made her watch him do to other people, were horribly wrong.
Those things had to be wrong.
So she’d run. She’d pack and meet Trixie and then Trixie’s guy friend. If that meant she would eventually go to hell, then so be it.
