Page 48 of Carter

When a member of the brotherhood passes, all of the men spend the night before the ceremony in a closed chamber with the body of the deceased.

What they do in there, I’ll never know. But Mary’s offered me a ride, and I’m grateful to not be going alone.

Nerves twist in my stomach. I have no idea what to expect. I open the door, peering down at Mary.

Mary shoots me a reassuring smile. “Hey, sweetie. Put your food in the trunk. I’ve got a lead foot and with no men to catch me, we’re going to fly. I’d hate to spoil your dish. Or find out what happens to two girls who spill a casserole in one of John’s cars.”

I smile and walk to the opened trunk at the back of the car. I carefully place my bag beside her matching red and white checked one.

She’s made her famous brownies. I inhale their sweet scent and I feel my dress getting tighter like I’ve gained five pounds. I shut the lid.

She drives fast. There isn’t a single man on the streets to catch us.

We arrive at an area of the property I’ve never been to or have even known to exist. We pull through an elaborate black iron gate.

Into a beautiful meadow. Despite the season the grass grows tall, lush, and green.

I give Mary a curious stare, which she ignores.

We climb from the car and meet the group that’s beginning to form a circle. All dressed in couture, all wearing white.

They’re breathtaking.

They smile at me as I approach, parting and moving away from Carter so I can join him.

I slip my arm into his. He looks down at me. His eyes are soft, sad. His hair is gelled back, his face freshly shaven. He wears a crisp white button-down. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him look more handsome.

He kisses the top of my head, saying, “It’s so good to see you, baby girl.”

“How are you holding up?” I ask. Despite his dapper looks, I’ve noticed the dark circles that hang below his eyes.

“It’s always heart-wrenching to lose a brother. Today, my thoughts are with John. It’s like he’s losing a father. For a second time.” His eyes shift from mine.

My heart tugs toward him, thinking of what he went through as a child. Both parents passing away tragically.

I look to John. His jaw is clenched; his eyes glassy with unshed tears. He stands tall, strong, but his arms cling to Mary.

Bronson steps forward from the crowd to the center of the circle. He holds a strange black box I don’t recognize. I hear someone next to me whisper, “The chamber.”

I tug on Carter’s arm. “What’s that?”

He says, “Brett’s remains.”

“Was he cremated?” I ask. I’d always assumed the Bachmans would be buried in pine boxes or something since they’re obsessed with the circle of life, the natural order of things.

Carter begins speaking so quietly I barely hear him. “It’s fascinating,” he murmurs. His eyes are on the chamber, glassy and faraway. His hand rests lightly on his chin. When he speaks, he sounds as if he is talking to himself. “First, the corpse is frozen at zero degrees. When the core hits naught, the body is placed in a vat of liquid nitrogen where the temperature drops to negative three twenty. A mechanical device vibrates the body, which disintegrates it within minutes. Next, the material is freeze-dried in a vacuum chamber, removing the water and reducing the weight to thirty percent of the original mass. What’s left is a fine, dry powder, which is placed in the chamber. Of course, there are many steps that come before this. The step I’ve outlined are only the final decomposition of the body. We would never touch it before we get the DNA extraction⁠—”

His words catch in his throat, his eyes snapping open wide. He turns to me. His gaze is heavy as it locks with mine, holding it. His hand presses heavy into my shoulder. “My mistake. Sasha, you must never repeat what I have said.” He looks away, his eyes clouding over. His hand runs through his perfectly combed hair, mussing it. “Sometimes… I forget myself when I’m with you.”

His confession makes a welling in my chest. He’s a strong man. But with me, there’s a softness. A letting down of his guard that sometimes challenges his vow. A tug and pull between me and the family.

Causing a rift. One I would have gladly widened in the past, pestering him with questions.

But I’ve grown. So. Much.

I place my arm around his waist. I reach up and over, whispering in his ear, “Trust me, love.”

His eyes meet mine. They seem lighter than before. He places a soft kiss on my lips. “I do, baby girl.”