She’d wanted to read Elle’s book ever since Elle told her she had started writing on it again. Originally, Elle had begun her story right in the middle of the horrid ordeal, but she didn’t want to change a thing from what she had written during that time. Elle had said, “It’d be like changing history, I mean, this really happened to me—exactly as it was written back then. I don’t think I should change a word.”
Nancy agreed, but though she had been curious, a fear settled in her stomach. She wasn’t ready to read it just yet, but in the safety of the women’s sanctuary, perhaps she could risk it. She patted the manuscript and slipped it back into her bag.
The letter from the FBI was nestled beside it, and she took it out. An older man sat beside her, but he was sleeping. Still she was careful, should he awake, to not let him see the letter stating Merrick Snyder’s execution.
She opened it and read it again, wondering how smart it had been for her to call the FBI like she had. She thought back on it.
“Yes, I would very much like to be there when it happens.”
The words seemed empty now. It was ridiculous to act so flippantly—wanting to see him die in person. She shuddered. She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his evil eyes and wicked grin and worried that it might set her back from any progress she hoped to make at the sanctuary.
She felt foolish. This is silly of me, she thought. She had plenty of time to change her mind. No. She wanted to be there and witness his death—she needed to be there. She needed closure. Folding the letter, she slipped it back into the bag beside the manuscript.
After a long flight over the ocean, they finally arrived in Boston. Someone from the women’s sanctuary had offered to pick her up, but Nancy had other plans. Her long, red hair was neatly pulled back in a bun and hid under a large floppy hat. Dark glasses covered most of her face. When she saw him, she fought to maintain her placid demeanor and followed the large man to the parking lot.
It was all she could do to contain her excitement, and not until they were safely away from the world on a backstreet in Massachusetts, did she remove the floppy hat and dark glasses, and laughed full and rich.
His loud laughter echoed hers, resonating throughout the car. “Sis.” He wiped large tears from the corners of his eyes.
“Eddie.” She laughed again and grabbed his arm.
He glanced over at her and then back at the road. “You look great, Nance.”
She nodded. “I feel great, too.” She paused and her voice got quiet. “Well, except—”
Eddie was quiet, too. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “This trip will do you wonders.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for, Eddie.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
She patted his arm. “I was so sorry to hear about Gertie.”
His head bobbed. “Yeah,” he said, in a whisper. “I miss her like crazy.” He wiped at his nose. “It’s real hard with all of you gone now.”
Nancy pulled out the letter and waved it at him. “It’ll be over soon, Ed, and then we can all be together again.”
He grinned. “It’s what I live for, Sis—what I live for.”
They spent the rest of the drive talking mostly about Sally. Nancy told him every little thing she could think about Sally to get his mind off his wife. They were both alone in that way now.
“Thanks for sneaking me those pictures, Nance—sending them to me at my work. They meant the world to me. I keep them in my safe.”
“She’s lovely—much more than those pictures—and she misses you so.”
“Thirteen, eh?” He made a face. “No boyfriend, I hope.”
“With the tight rein we have on her? Not a chance.” She bit down on her lip. “But, I don’t know how long that’ll last. She’s quite the beauty.”
“Like her mom,” he said, with a wink.
“There’s more to a girl than looks, Ed.”
He seemed offended. “I know that.”
“Yes, of course you do.” She nodded. “Sorry.” She clicked her tongue. “Life is hard enough without comparing yourself to someone else.”
“Huh?”
“Beauty wanes, doesn’t it?”
“There’s nothing wrong with your looks, Sis.”
“Thanks, but that’s not what I was getting at.” She rolled the window down and let a breeze blow the loose strands of her hair across her face. “I lost five years of my life—that’s a lot of time for a woman to waste.”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t care about that so much anymore, but I would like to get my inner beauty back.”
“Aw, Sis. You’re beautiful in and out.”
“It’s not like that—not that kind of beauty.” She leaned her head back against the seat. It was clear that Eddie didn’t quite get understand what she was saying. “Ed, I just want to feel . . . to, uh, I want to stop hurting.”
“To feel peace?” he said softly.
She looked over at him. “Yes, Eddie, to feel peace.” He did get it after all. She looked down at her hands. How dare she think her suffering was greater than his? “I’m sorry, Eddie.”
He glanced at her. “It’s okay.”
Her voice softened. “How are you?”
“I dunno. She was doing so good, Nance. And then one day, right out of the blue, she was gone.”
“The disease progressed?”
“Actually, that’s the weird thing. It had actually reversed itself.”
Her shoulders fell forward. “I don’t get it.”
“No one does.” He pulled the car into the hotel parking lot. “She was reading again and writing.” He was silent. He opened the car door for her and then led her to the room, pulling out the key he’d obviously already procured. “I showed her the pictures you sent. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“I don’t.”
Inside the hotel room, Eddie closed and locked the door. “Anyhow, she got all excited about something in the pictures, said she’s been there before. Ireland?”
Nancy’s eyes widened. “Yes, but how?”
“You’re standing in front of a castle she visited in her youth.” He frowned. “That’s when I locked the pictures in the safe. If my wife could figure out where you were from photos, I’m guessing someone else could, too.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think we need to worry about that. There’s no one left after Merrick is gone.” She tended to believe that Marvin acted alone. She glanced over at Eddie. “I’m not going to live the rest of my life in hiding for someone who more-than-likely doesn’t exist.”
“No, I guess not.”
Still there was something in his look that told her he wasn’t so sure. She shook it off.
They stayed up late into the night talking about their childhood, their parents, their spouses—their real spouses, and of course, Sally. Neither one of them wanted the night to end, but soon, it was morning. Nancy nudged her brother who had fallen asleep on the couch.
“Come on, Ed, it’s time to go.”
Silently, Eddie put her overnight bag into the car. They got in, and he drove on to the place where he would drop her off. Someone else would pick her up and take her to her final destination. The sanctuary was so secluded, that not even good-intentioned relations were allowed to know its exact location.
“Call me when you’re ready to go, Sis—any time, any day—I’ll drop everything.”
A car drove up, and a woman got out. “Nancy?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
She extended her hand. “I’m Wendy.”
After formalities, Nancy said her last goodbye and tearfully left Eddie standing alone in the K-Mart parking lot. She hadn’t imagined the feeling that would grip her, as they drove away. “Wait,” she said, putting her hand to the window.
Wendy slowed down. “Would you like me to take you back?”
There wasn’t a good reason for her outburst. Nancy was completely safe and doing exactly what she wanted. �
��No, of course not.” She sighed and pulled the thin sweater tighter around her shoulders.
Wendy held her hand out and opened her fingers, revealing a small, white pill nestled in her palm. “Are you ready?”
Nancy had been dreading this part. Her therapist had explained that the location was so secretive that great precautions had to be taken to keep it that way.
Wendy handed her the sleeping pill. “When you wake up, we’ll be there.”
It should have unnerved her, this clandestine thing, but it actually calmed her. She would be joining a group of women who had suffered all kinds of abuse, at the hands of all kinds of people—not all spousal abuse either. Knowing that no one would slink in to disturb their peace was very comforting to her. In fact, without that assurance, she never would have considered coming to the sanctuary—ever.
When she awoke, she was lying on a couch. Wendy sat nearby, reading a book. “Oh, good, you’re awake.” She closed her book. Wendy looked different—almost radiant. “Ah, I feel so much better when I get back here.” Wendy gestured around the room.
Nancy sat up. She was in a room with one wall opened to a pristine lake. She drew in a breath. “Is that real?”
Wendy laughed. “Everyone says the same thing the first time they see it.”
“It’s so beautiful.”
Wendy nodded. At night, if the mosquitos get too bad, you can close it, like this.” She picked up a remote and pressed the button, and two walls came together, creating a regular looking room.
“Oh my, gosh, I love this.”
“Yes, I knew you would.” She sat down on the couch beside Nancy and handed her the remote. “You are free to go anywhere at the resort, just please don’t leave the grounds without telling us.”
“So you can drug me again?”
Wendy blinked. “Um, yeah.”
Nancy waved it off. “It’s okay. I totally understand why.”
Wendy’s face saddened. “We had to move locations a number of times because someone told someone who told someone—you know what I mean.”
Nancy nodded. She pushed the button on the remote and opened the wall. “I wouldn’t want to relocate from here, either.”
Wendy grinned. She handed her a map. “You’re golf cart is outside. Take a look around the place.” On her way out, she turned around. “The kitchen is fully stocked and always open, but so is your cabin’s refrigerator, too.”
She pointed to the map. “We eat dinner at the lodge, at 7:00, but it all depends on you if you want to join us or not. Some women never do.”
Understandable, thought Nancy. Ever since the cave, she hadn’t felt inclined to eat with strangers. “This place must be worth a fortune.” A bewildered look clouded her face. “I was expecting a small room in an institution of sorts.”
Wendy laughed. “Let’s just say that we have a very wealthy benefactor.”
“Really? Who?” But even before she said it, she knew the answer. “They probably want to remain anonymous, too.”
“Yes.” Wendy pursed her lips and nodded. “No one has met him or her. All we know is that whomever it is, owns the whole estate, grounds, and all, and has generously made it available for our needs.” She moved toward the door. “We’re a small group here—you make twenty.” She leaned against the door. “Each of us has our own cabin. When you do venture out, you’ll see.” She closed the door behind her.
Nancy walked the small cabin. Besides the sitting area, there was a bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and a bath. Plenty of room for someone who had lived in a cave for five years. But it was the lake that drew her attention. She stepped out onto the deck overlooking the lake. Hundreds of trees lined its edge, thinning out in front of a long row of cabins.
Looking up and down the shore, she counted twenty-five cabins just like hers, some with women sitting out on their decks. It surprised her that each cabin was painted a vibrant color—her own cabin was a deep blue. It seemed that if you were trying to hide from the world, you would be less brash.
A few women looked her way, as if anticipating a new arrival. One woman in particular, with long dark hair, would not look away. Nancy felt uncomfortable, as if the woman wasn’t happy to see her there. She gave her a slight wave, but the woman set her book down and went inside her own cabin, painted a bright yellow.
Such a sunny color for such a sour person, she thought. Stepping to the wooden railing facing the lake, she leaned into it, and breathed in deep. It was the perfect place for her to heal, and she was determined to get right to work.
First, however, she had a strong impression that she’d need to fit in to her new community—something she dreaded enormously. In her former life, before her abduction, she would’ve introduced herself to everyone. But ever since the rescue and going into hiding, she had become very reserved, and hardly knew anyone in Ireland, except for Mimi and Jacques.
“It’s one of the things you need to repair, Nancy,” she said to herself. “You’re safe here. Go.”
She felt her legs taking her out the front door. She stared at the long dirt road, estimating which cottage it was where she had seen the strange woman. Nancy, maybe she’s one of the women who never comes out of her cabin to join the others. She stopped walking and thought on it. “Nonsense. I’m no threat to her.” Inwardly, the struggle continued. Stop, Nancy. You’re not that young, friendly girl anymore.”
“And, why not?” she breathed out angrily. “Because I let him take her away from me?” She was talking about herself, but the duel meaning of Sally sank in. Her shoulders sagged, and she stopped walking. The woman’s bright yellow cottage was in sight.
The door of a green cottage directly in front of her opened and a young woman came out. She smiled when she saw Nancy and timidly approached her. “Hi.”
“Hello,” Nancy said. She stretched her hand out. “I’m Nancy.”
The young woman stared at her hand and giggled. “Oh, we don’t shake hands here.” She threw her arms around Nancy and hugged her. “Welcome.” She pulled away. “My name’s Millicent, but my friends call me, Millie.” Her face dropped when she saw Nancy’s surprised look. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back. “They keep reminding me to go easy on newbies.” A small grin played at her lips. “It’s just that I’m so happy to see you.”
Nancy tilted her head. “Um, thanks, Millie.” From the corner of her eye, she saw movement at the yellow cabin—a curtain swished back into place. She stared at it for a while, as Millie continued on about the amenities of the sanctuary.
“Oh, and there’s a pool, if the lake is too cold for you.” She seemed to notice Nancy’s fixation on the yellow cabin and frowned. “She’s a tough one.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” Millie said, with a nod toward the yellow cottage. “Hardly ever comes out, and except for writing group, she never talks to anyone, well, except for—” She looked uncomfortable.
“Except for who?”
Millie sighed. “The girl that used to be in your cabin.”
“Oh.” That explained a lot. “Used to be? She’s moved on?”
Millie’s face went red. “Um, no.”
“Oh, to a different cottage?”
Millie teared-up. “She died.”
Nancy’s eyes widened. “Oh.” She wanted to ask more, but thought it too early to ask something so personal. She could tell that Millie was upset and let it go at that.
Millie looked away. She swallowed. “So, I’m on my way to group counsel. It’s at the lodge. Y’wanna go?”
Though her purpose of venturing out was to meet others, talking about her past with strangers was out of the question. “Um, no,” she said, “I’m not ready for—”
Millie placed her hand on Nancy’s arm. “I understand. Just know we’re all here for you.” She paused and then took off walking. “Oh, the lodge is down that way.” She pointed down the dirt road. “Can’t miss it. It’s got lots of flowers and a big, long deck with lounge chairs facing the lake.”
&
nbsp; Nancy stared at Millie, as she strutted off, and then back at the yellow cottage. The strange woman stood at an open window, her wild hair blowing in a sudden breeze. She quickly moved from the window.
“Really?” Nancy said with a sigh, and then turned back toward her own cabin.
Twenty
Sally
Sally rose from her warm bed to the chill of the cool, spring air filtering through her open window. Not ready to completely get out of bed, she sat up and tucked her knees under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs.
I wonder how Mother is today, she thought. Nancy had only been away for two days, but it seemed like an eternity to her. She missed her smile and even the tiny bits of parental talk she gave to her each night before bed—nothing heavy, but all from an overanxious mind. She worries too much about me. Just like Elle.
They both mothered her like a hen brooding over her chick. Sometimes it irritated her, but this morning, she missed it—at least half of it, she mused as she thought back to the conversation with her other mother the night before.
Elle switched her weight to her other leg. “So, um, who was that boy I saw you walking beside at school?”
Sally blinked. “Oh, Breccan?”
“Breccan,” Elle repeated. She pulled her head back and slanted it. “So, tell me about him.”
Sally thrust her hands on her hips. “He’s just a friend, Mom.”
Elle frowned. “Oh.”
It was clear that her mother wanted more details, but really, there weren’t any. Breccan was just, well, just Breccan—a red-headed, painfully shy, boy—that’s all. She had seen him from a distance and had to initiate the first meeting, and the second, and the third, but now, it was as if they’d always been friends. “He’s pretty easy to talk to,” she said, before she realized the words were out of her mouth.
Elle sat down on the edge of her bed.
Oh brother, here it comes again—the don’t-talk-to-anyone-about-your-past—speech. She waited, and was surprised, when her mother smiled.
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