The jug of water is almost empty. I tried to ration it, but I must have failed. I don’t remember. My stomach twists, hollow and aching, but hunger is nothing compared to this endless thirst.
I think about AJ. Belle. My friends. My students. The sound blurs the memories until there’s nothing but pain and despair and endless fear.
“AJ. I love you. Please…find me.”
“What is your name?” The words filter through the fog in my head. I roll onto my back and blink my dry, bleary eyes. Is that…Zeke? Or another cruel trick of the lights and the heat and the inescapable sound?
“Your name!”
“Nova,” I whisper. I know that’s not right, but I’m so tired, so weak, it’s the only answer I have.
Zeke snaps his fingers, and another man appears at his side. “Bring her back to her room. She has learned her lesson.”
Giving up my name shattered my soul. But in return, I got a shower, a plate of food I barely tasted before it was gone, and sleep. The trade wasn’t close to fair. If only I’d had a choice.
Even after a night plagued by terrifying dreams, my ears still ring. My body aches, and I can’t muster the strength to sit up—let alone get out of bed—when Zeke comes in with my breakfast.
“Blessed Day, Nova.”
“Blessed Day, Prophet,” I whisper. The words taste like ash and despair.
“I trust your time in the box has brought you clarity.”
“Yes, Prophet.”
With every little submission—calling him Prophet or following one of his rules—I break a little more.
“Good.” He sits on the edge of the bed, but doesn’t touch me. Thank God. I don’t believe for a minute that rape is forbidden here. It’s a cult for fuck’s sake. His doctrine says he’s allowed four wives. How long until he tries to make me one of them?
“We are a family here, Nova. Families eat together. They pray together. And they work together. You will spend the next two days resting. After that, you will be allowed to take breakfast and dinner with the flock. Brother Malone or Brother Vincent will retrieve you from your room, bring you to the dining hall, and return you here when the meal is done.
“You will spend the rest of your time learning the Doctrine. In one week, I will test your knowledge. If you pass, you will be assigned to the greenhouse with my wives. There is much planting to be done before winter.”
My breath hitches. Other people. Even if it’s just meals. Even if it’s only work. The chance to look another woman in the eyes—to whisper one word, to find one ally—it’s more freedom than I thought I’d ever have again.
Zeke frowns, his expression cooling in an instant. “If you violate a single rule, Nova, you go back to the box. Do you understand?”
Tears swim in my eyes. He knows I’m not totally broken. Not fully his. I have to be more careful.
“Yes, Prophet.”
Once he leaves, I curl into a ball and pull the blanket over my head. “My name is Grace Stone. Zeke Nichols will not destroy me.”
The words sound so hollow. I don’t know how to make myself believe them. I’ve watched enough true crime shows to know my fate. Before long, I’ll shatter completely.
Cults don’t break people overnight. They grind them down. Strip away every scrap of identity until there’s nothing but obedience.
Zeke has another two years, ten months, and…I can’t even be sure how many days. Not anymore.
If I survive—if Grace survives—until Zeke kills me, it’ll be a miracle.
Chapter Eight
Six Months Later
AJ
Belle jumps up, her tail wagging for all of five seconds before she realizes I’m alone. Then it’s like someone let all the air out of her sails. She sniffs me, whines once, and parks her ass back down, staring at the door.
