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The Prophet (The Cloister Trilogy 2)

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Chapter 17

Delilah

I pull my knees up against me as Abigail does her usual muttering at the projector. No one has looked me in the eye this morning, and I’m glad. I can’t deal with connection, or thoughts, or memories, or even feelings. Everything is cold, and every thought leads me back to Sarah. If I blink, I see Adam holding her in his arms. So I try to keep my eyes open, to keep the ugliness at bay. But it doesn’t stop. It can’t.

Grace walks in and hurries to the front of the room. She takes a moment, as if choosing her words, then begins, “I know that what happened last night may be shocking to some of you.”

I would laugh if it wouldn’t lead to a never-ending pit of sobs and grief.

She clasps her hands together in front of her and clears her throat. “But you have to understand that the Prophet knows God’s plan. Sarah is blessed, sacred, and holy. She will live forever in the light of our Lord, and the Prophet—”

“Killed her.” Eve’s voice, high and trembling, cuts through Grace’s lies. “He made his son kill her. She isn’t going to heaven. She’s dead. Murdered. Right in front of all of us.”

“Eve.” Grace shakes her head. “That is the worldly interpretation of what happened, and is a blasphemy against the Prophet.” She toys with the end of her baton. “Because I understand that emotions are running high, and because it is Christmas Day, I will let your comments pass. But if you tell any more lies, I’m afraid you won’t escape punishment.”

Eve covers her face with her hands and rocks back and forth.

“Good.” Grace lets her gaze rove over the room. “As a Christmas treat, we will forego training for the day and, instead, will have a screening of ‘The Passion of the Christ’.”

I groan on the inside, but settle in for the movie. At least I won’t have to interact with anyone. I’ve become an expert at blocking out whatever “instructional” video is playing and spending the time in my own head.

“Delilah.” Grace’s voice cracks over me like a whip. “Come with me.”

My bones ache, and grief weighs me down, but I still can get no respite. Not even now. I stand and follow Grace from the room, her black skirt swishing against the cold wood floor. She leads me back to the dormitories and my room.

“Get dressed.” She hands me a white dress that’s similar to what I’m already wearing, but with a high collar and thicker fabric. “We’re paying a visit to the Prophet’s home.”

“What? Why?”

She shoves me. I’m so weak that I stumble forward and fall onto the bed.

“Just do as you’re told, Maiden!” She throws the dress at me. “Now!”

I strip my usual dress over my head as Grace watches. She inspects my nudity with a critical eye, as if she’s adding up my shortcomings.

Once I’m dressed in the long gown and white flats, we leave my room. Chastity passes us in the hall, her hair up in a net and a vicious new bruise on her cheek.

Grace glances at me and smirks. “I saw her in your room. She broke the rules. She paid. The same way you will if you do anything to cross me on this little trip.” She grabs my elbow and shoves me aside as she enters the code to open the outer door.

A golf cart waits just outside, one of the Protectors at the wheel. He tosses his half-smoked cigarette away. “Get in. It’s fucking cold out here.”

I sit on the back bench, and Grace settles in beside the driver, his greasy hair shining in the morning light. I stare at the road ahead as the cart moves smoothly up the pavement. Asking what this is about will get me nothing but a whack with Grace’s baton. Does it have to do with Adam? I swallow hard as my mind falls into the next possible conclusion. Do they know the real reason I’m here? After what happened to Sarah, I have no illusions about what they’d do to me if they had any doubts about my loyalty to the Prophet. As far as they know, I broke in the Rectory and will never question the Prophet’s divinity again. Keep it that way. I force myself to resume the mantle of brainwashed Maiden. Whatever happens, I have to play along, to convince the Prophet that I’m devout. It’s no longer just about me infiltrating this place to find out about Georgia, now it’s deeper, angrier, and more focused. I’ll destroy them from the inside out.

We roll to a stop at the rear of the huge Georgian mansion, and the Protector walks up to a set of back doors. After entering a code, he opens the nearest door and ushers us inside.


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