I’d love to tell him the truth, but I’m nervous I could make things worse for me and Mary. I’m preparing some sort of neutral answer about Mary’s “continuing faith in God,” when Jeremiah says, “How did she look?”
My temper flairs. I blurt, “She was miserable. It’s a horrible, horrible place where they treat people like freaks and criminals, and you shouldn’t have left her there for even one day.”
He looks at me briefly, hatred in his face. Staring back at the road, he says, “I should have known better than to ask a woolie for the truth.”
We don’t speak again for the rest of the trip.
Having expected the Forgiveness Home, I’m surprised when we pull up to the front of the Leisure Center.
“Get out,” he tells me.
After I open the door and climb down from the seat, I’m confronted by an enormous figure.
It’s Gilad.
He points at my face with a chubby finger, saying, “You ruined my son! You ruined my daughter! You ruined my family!” He lunges for me.
I raise my tied wrists to block my face, but Jeremiah is right next to me, shoving him back easily.
When he’s regained his balance, Gilad looks at him with disgust. “I thought better of you, Jeremiah,” he says.
“And I thought better of you,” Jeremiah says, grabbing my shoulders and pushing past him.
I’m mortified to see hundreds of faces peering out from behind the glass of the Leisure Center. I’m sure everyone watching will be telling their neighbors each detail—my handcuffs, Gilad’s accusations—as soon as they can.
Jeremiah leads me up the stairs to Ram’s office as Gilad howls behind us. Why is he so angry? Does he think I talked Silas into breaking out? When I ruined Promise Prom, did I somehow “ruin his family?”
Before I can begin to formulate answers, we enter the waiting area to Ram’s office, the cold air making me shrink into myself. Marjory sits at her desk, glaring at me like I’m her cat that went feral.
I glare right back, happy to stop pretending that I like everyone.
We don’t linger long. I seem to have become a priority. Ram’s office door pops open, and Marjory looks at it, not deigning to speak to me.
Jeremiah unties my wrists, and I walk inside the office.
Ram sits in a chair, not on the floor. For the first time since we met, he’s not smiling. Even Jezzie stays in her bed, unwilling to greet me.
“Sit down,” Ram says.
I begin to sit in one of the beanbag chairs, when he says, “No. On the floor.”
I lower myself and cross my legs. I look up at him and wait.
“This is unacceptable,” he says. “I have been nothing but generous to you and you have repeatedly paid me back with rudeness and insubordination. I gave you room and board. I offered you an education and a beautiful future. I presented you with God’s light, the ultimate gift. And you have spit in my face. Why?”
“I haven’t meant to—”
“I’ll tell you why,” he says, his high-pitched voice intensifying in an uncharacteristic way. “You are a selfish, vain, spiritless girl. God could no more move through you than a cement block.”
I look at the floor. Have I been selfish? Or vain? I’ve been so focused on seeing Juda, I haven’t been able to see much else around me.
“What if we hadn’t taken you in? Have you considered that? Where would you be now? Starving in the woods! Gunned down by vagrants! So desperate that you have to return to that trash heap you call a city!”
He’s spitting he’s so angry. This is a completely different man than the one I met before, the sweet, laughing, boyish leader who soothed me at every turn.
With his high voice and pointy little ears, he now reminds of some sort of demon. “Where are they?” he says, eyes narrowing.
I stare at Jezzie chewing her paw in the corner. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t be silly,” he says, “and don’t waste my time.”
I keep watching the dog, trying to keep an even tone. “I got separated. I don’t know where they are now.”
“I feel confident that you know exactly where they are, and you already know that I’m not the only one looking for them.”
My chest tightens.
“I preach tolerance at every service, but as you know, I’ve been unable to reach Mr. Tanner and his flock of Purists. They’re convinced that your people are an infestation that will destroy us. Their search party found you, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they find your friends. And this time Jeremiah might not reach them in time.”
A chill runs through me.
After my continued silence, Ram says, “If you cooperate, you will save your friends from Mr. Tanner, and then you will be free to go.”
I laugh at the lie.
“No one has forced you to stay with us,” he says. “The Forgiveness Home is nothing but a training center, a way for you to gain God’s forgiveness so that you might assimilate and live among us in harmony. If that’s not what you want, and it’s not what we want, then perhaps the experiment is over, and the five of you should be on your way.”
“But Rose––”
“Is ill, yes. That’s regrettable. She’ll stay here until she’s well enough to travel, and then she can join you.”
“You’re really going to let us just walk out of Kingsboro?” I can’t imagine after our break out that Solomon won’t want retribution. “What about Mary and Silas?” I ask.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do there. They are Unbound born, and here they will stay.”
“Either we all go, or I won’t tell you where they are.”
He grins. “You’re acting as if you hold all the cards, when it’s your friends’ lives that are in danger. I’m only trying to help you.” He crosses his legs.
I don’t think he’s as relaxed as he looks. Mr. Tanner will look very clever and powerful if he reaches the runaways before Ram, and Ram can’t have that.
“All of us or no deal,” I say, trying to hide my anxiety.
We stare at each other and his delicate features betray nothing. He could be frustrated; he could be furious; he could be about to nap.
He bursts out laughing. “Fine. When you leave, Silas and Mary will go with you, and they’ll have you to thank!” He stands. “I’ll give you a minute to think about it.” He strides across the room. “Don’t take too long. Mr. Tanner works fast.” He closes the door, and the second he’s gone, Jezzie gives me a little growl.
What am I supposed to do? I can’t imagine opening my mouth and saying the words “They’re hiding in Jeremiah’s house.” Yet I saw the loathing in Mr. Tanner’s face and felt the blow of his boot. He and Samuel would have happily killed me. They failed because they delayed too long, so they won’t take their time with the others. They’ll just walk in shooting.
I want to throw up.
Can I trust Ram? Will he really let us leave? It seems so unlikely, and yet why would he force us to stay? We’ve caused nothing but problems since we arrived. Our exit would be a great relief to so many people. In fact, Ram probably needs us to leave, and he’s only shaping it as a huge favor to me.
People never straight out tell you what they need. They have to manipulate and blackmail, just like Juda said.
If Ram is lying, and Juda, Mary, and Silas hear that I gave them away, they’ll hate me forever. But isn’t that better than them being dead?
Will Juda be back at Jeremiah’s? He’s probably still at the hospital with Rose. If I don’t mention this to Ram, could Mr. Tanner find him there? Mr. Tanner was using some sort of reconstructed Bee to search for us. Juda is safe inside the hospital, but if he’s already left, he’ll be vulnerable like the others.
Slumping, I bury my face in my hands. This is awful. Why did I have to be the one to get caught, to make this decision? If only I could warn them all to leave Kingsboro and never come back.
Minutes later, the door opens. In walk Ram and Jeremiah.
“What have we decided?” Ram says in a light voice, as if I were choosing between cake or pie.
Jeremiah ignores me, standing against the wall at attention.
I sit up, my brain still searching for an alternate choice. I glower at Ram. “I hate you for this,” I say.
He sighs. “But God still loves you, which is His majesty. Where are they?”
My whole body tensing in protest, I whisper, “They’re at Jeremiah’s house.”
Jeremiah’s head snaps in my direction. “What?”
Ram laughs. “How ironic. I love it.”
“I apologize, sir,” Jeremiah says. “I––”
“No, no. You’ve been much too busy searching to even consider it. Forest for the trees and all that.” He produces his sickly sweet smile. “Why don’t you take Jezzie with you?”
Jeremiah nods. In a clipped voice, he says, “Jezebel, come!”
Jezzie jumps up at once to join him.
“Use her well,” Ram says, “but make sure to stop her before she does any real damage.”
“Yes, sir,” Jeremiah says, and I see the unease in his face.
Mary is his sister, and Ram has just told him to hunt her down with a dog. Silas warned me that Ram was the cruel hand behind Solomon, and I didn’t want to believe it. Now I know Silas was right.
Thirty-Six
After Jeremiah and Jezzie leave, Marjory comes to fetch me. Ram sits on his beanbag, staring at the wall. He doesn’t say goodbye.
Without a word, Marjory takes me by the elbow and leads me out of the office. As soon as we’re back in the waiting area, another handleless door swings open. She takes me into a room with no furniture and one window. It’s cold and empty, except for a girl curled up in the corner.
Still silent, Marjory leaves me inside and exits. Even though I know it’s futile, I push on the closed door. It’s locked.
A familiar voice says, “Of course. I should have known things could get worse.”
I turn to see Tabby glaring at me from the floor. She looks pale and tired, her beautiful hair unbrushed and tangled.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer.
“Was it us? Because of me and Silas and what we did? I’m so sorry.” At home this is standard, that when a person does something sinful, other family members are punished.
She plays with her hair, so I assume I’m right.
“The Forgiveness Home is a terrible place, Tabby. They were doing horrible things to Silas. He couldn’t stay there if––”
“That boy-suck has made his own bed.”
I don’t know what to say. Silas told me that Tabby knew his secret, but I didn’t expect her to be so cold about it. But why am I surprised? When has she been anything but a block of ice?
“He would never have wanted you here,” I say. “He didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Not everything is about him, and not everything is about you, okay?” She turns to face the wall.
“So what happened?” I ask.
“What do you care?”
I don’t really, but I need information about what’s going on and who knows what. “I like you,” I say.
“Ha!” she says. “Please. No one likes me.”
“You have lots of friends,” I say.
“I have girls who are afraid not to be my friends,” she says tightly.
“Is that why you’re upset?”
She shakes her head like I’m an idiot.
I keep talking. “I’m in here because I screwed up again, and now other people are about to pay for my mistakes. Again.” She doesn’t turn around. “I’m really scared. What if Mr. Tanner finds Silas and Mary? He could kill them. And Juda . . . What if he doesn’t get to see his mother? That will be my fault. If something happens to him . . .” I slump against the wall.
She stirs. “Silas is in danger, like, for real?”
I nod. “Mr. Tanner and Samuel have guns.”
Tabby’s brow furrows. “I hate Silas but I, like, love him, ya know?”
I do know. I hate Dekker, but I don’t want him dead.
“Does it really bother you that he’s . . . ?” I’m not sure which word to use.
“A molley? No, not really.” She sits up. “He just makes things hard on my family. Some people have wanted Dad to resign from the Elders because of Silas, and now they’ll get their way for sure. The only reason we took you in was to gain favor with the Elders.”
Oh. That explains why Gilad screamed at me. I didn’t exactly save his position, did I?
“My friends don’t say anything to my face,” she says, “but I know they laugh at my family behind my back. Now they’re going to have a field day.”
“Because of the breakout?” I ask.
“If only,” she says, staring at the floor. She sighs. “Whatever. Everyone will know by tomorrow anyway.” She looks at me. “I twittled my lady bug.”
“What?” I say, perplexed.
“My lady bug? I set it off.”
The pellets the girls got during Promise Prom—Grace said they could detect any surge in hormones to signal inappropriate interactions with boys. Sure I’ve turned pink, I ask, “Was it that boy? From the Prom?”
She nods. “Adam.”
“Do you love him?” I ask.
The softness leaves her face. “Does it matter?”
“No, I just thought––”
“My parents and Ram don’t care about love, so why should I? They just care about my precious virginity. Let me ask you a question: if the only thing that’s valuable about me is my virginity, does that make my mother worthless?”
“I don’t know,” I say, confused.
“She may not be quite as priceless as an untouched girl, but she’s got value because she’s a mother. So during the time when you’re not a virgin and you’re not a mother, what are you?”
“I—”
“You’re a useless piece of manure is what you are,” she says, as if this were the obvious and only answer.
I don’t know what to say. I had no idea that the women of the Unbound could feel useless. With their education and confidence, they seem so free. But if men are deciding women’s worth, women will always feel they are worth less.
“So you don’t love Adam?” I ask.
“I didn’t say that. I said it didn’t matter,” she says, the venom leaving her voice.
“So what happens now?”
Her eyes grow watery. “I’ll tell you what’s not going to happen. I’m not going to become some freaking trash lady. I’m going to get out of this.”
“Can you repent?” Maybe she can walk on water, like I did.
She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know much, do you?”
“Not really,” I say. I don’t know anything about her situation, and I can’t pretend to. “How did you meet Adam?”
She hugs her knees. “When I was little, I thought the Savior would be my boyfriend one day. The idea that He was always watching me—it was really soothing. My parents paid a lot more attention to Silas than me, so God was like my third parent. I felt warm knowing he was in the room.
“At some point, I can’t remember when, it started to feel claustrophobic, a big eye of judgment I couldn’t escape. Adam was the first one I told that to. He said he wasn’t sure God was in the room at all, which was major outrageous. The more we talked about it, the more I wondered if maybe he was right.”
I’m amazed that Tabby is speaking to me like this.
“It’s not that I don’t believe in God. I’m just not sure that He’s in every room, every single second, of every day, judging us for every single thing. How could He possibly have time? And why would He want to? We’re His chosen ones. There are so many sinners doing things far worse than us. Your people probably sin, like, more in five minutes than we do in a year.”
I squirm, trying not to get angry.
“Adam and I first started talking because of God. It wasn’t flirtation
or anything, and I wasn’t thinking of him in a romantic way. He sat by me at the Worship Hub one day, and I saw him roll his eyes at something Ram said, which seemed major blasphemous. I wanted to ask him about it. I cornered him at the Spring Festival. He was really surprised, which I get. He’s not exactly my league, I guess. Or Phoebe and Deb wouldn’t think so. If I’m honest, I didn’t used to think so either. His skin isn’t great, and he’s kind of skinny, but he has these really beautiful brown eyes and big, sexy hands. I kinda can’t believe I never noticed him before.
“He says he noticed me, all the time, but he never had the nerve to talk to me. I thought he meant because I was so beautiful, but he said it was because I was such a bitch. Ha!”
I suppress a smile.
“He’s right,” she says. “I was never nice to him. I’m never nice to many people. I don’t see the point really. I seem to get what I want more often if I’m mean. Adam says this isn’t a very good way to live. He thinks that kindness is important, and that even if God isn’t watching us every second, He’s looking at the big picture. Adam thinks I’d be happier if I were kinder. He’s kind, and he makes me happy. It actually makes me feel good to do nice things for him. I don’t really see how that would extend to other people. I don’t like other people. Why should I do things for them? When do they do things for me? But this is exactly the attitude Adam has been working on with me.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s hard.”
Touched by her desire to make him happy, I say, “You do love him.”
Face hardening, she says, “Do you believe in God?”
I pretend to examine my knee, which got scraped when Mr. Tanner captured me. Do I want to have this conversation with Tabby? The answer feels complicated.
“I always thought I did,” I say. “I had faith in the Prophet—she seemed the same as God. I loved that she was a woman. The Teachers could take away our rights, but they couldn’t take that away, you know? I loved her story, and her presence made me feel, um, warm, like you said. Then I came here, and everyone said she was a fraud. It was heartbreaking, like losing my Nana again. I’ve always been able to count on the Prophet’s presence, and now she couldn’t be my guardian anymore.
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