I aim for a smile. “You know me. I always land on my feet.”
The worry in her wide brown eyes doesn’t fade in the slightest. “What happened last night?”
My stomach flips. I’m guessing she doesn’t know I tried to leave for good. Otherwise she wouldn’t be so happy to see me now. Something tells me I won’t be able to evade these questions for long. They want answers. Ivan will want answers.
I need to be seated for this. I’m already swaying on my feet.
Lola notices immediately and guides me to the sofa. “Candy. What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
I feel a little sick, thinking of telling them the truth. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth. The lingering soreness between my legs doesn’t even register in the face of this.
Blue is watching me with a hawklike expression, not missing a thing. I’m guessing he can see how I’m moving stiffly too. And Ivan…is Ivan. Stone-faced. Unreadable.
It’s like being in love with a statue.
Blue clears his throat. “Candy, I’m taking this threat against the Grand very seriously. We all are. We’re working closely with the police department, but we’re also conducting our own investigation.” His expression turns wry. “As you can imagine, it would be helpful if we could find him first.”
First? If they found whoever did this, the police department never would. They’d just find an anonymous body in the river six months later.
“The blood?” I whisper.
“Sheep’s blood,” Blue answers grimly.
I should feel relief. At least it wasn’t a person who had to die for that. But all I feel is dread, because there are sheep on Harmony Hills. He’d have easy access to it…
Blue comes to sit in the chair near the sofa. Lola is on my side, probably for support. I feel caged in, tensed. There’s nowhere to run. I don’t imagine Luca would let me leave anyway. “Ivan says you have a guess as to who’s doing this,” Blue says.
Ivan remains standing, leaning against a hutch, arms crossed. He doesn’t move in any way to acknowledge Blue’s words. He doesn’t even acknowledge me—just stares into my eyes.
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I look down. Shit.
“Little one,” he says softly. I’d know that voice anywhere. I hear it in my dreams.
His cold facade cracks for just a second, letting me see inside. To how much he needs me to do this. To how much he cares about the Grand and the girls who work there. To how much he trusted me, that he called Blue to get this information from me—even though Ivan doesn’t want to believe it’s connected to my past. He doesn’t love me, and after what I saw of his body last night and how hard he fucked me, I think he even resents me. But he trusted me enough for this.
I take a deep breath. “I think the person doing this…might be from my past. From where I was before I got to the Grand. It’s a place called Harmony Hills. From the outside, it’s a farming community.”
“And from the inside?” Blue prods gently.
Lola hugs my arm tighter, a silent and strong witness.
I close my eyes. “From the inside, it’s a religion. Everything, from where you sleep and how much you eat is determined by how…by how sinful you are.”
The room has grown deathly quiet, almost as if the house itself is listening. It’s that stillness that allows me to go on. “People don’t get to leave. It’s not a choice. If someone thinks about leaving and people find out, they’ll disappear. Not take their stuff and leave, they’ll just…disappear.”
Lola’s face is solemn. “Why didn’t they get caught?”
“It’s really isolated. Far away from any city and they’re mistrusting of outsiders to an extreme. We’re told the world is a bed of sin, that the only salvation can be found by turning our backs to it.”
Blue raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on that. “You think someone from there is doing this?”
“Someone in particular. I mean, I don’t know if he’s doing it by hand, but nothing happens from the church without Leader Allen ordering it to be done. He’s the voice of God.”
The silence that follows is thick, and I realize that I didn’t qualify my statement. I didn’t say he’s the voice of God for those people. I just said he’s the voice of God. My face heats in a blush. “Sixteen years of indoctrination is hard to lose,” I say weakly.
Ivan’s voice is soft but unmistakable. “How did you get out?”