As we were about to exit the shop, a group of three female followers entered, their heads bowed as they scanned the room with their eyes. All of their heads were covered with scarves, something I’d seen on the women who worked in the greenhouse that grew fresh fruit and vegetables for our daily consumption. It wasn’t until the pale-blue eyes of one of the women looked in my direction that I recognized her. They were eyes I’d known for years. I had no doubt. I was looking at my friend Mindy Rosemont.
Without thinking I stood and moved in her direction. The pain at her disappearance, the visits to the morgue, all came back. A lump formed in the back of my throat as my arms ached to hug her. She was alive, here, and safe. Before I could process or filter my thoughts, I reached for her hand.
“Mi—” I stopped the name from rolling from my lips as I registered the look of shock on her face.
“Sister, did I . . . is there a problem?” she asked, her voice soft and weak. The other two women stood dumbfounded, staring at me, as did Dinah.
My mind raced. I remembered seeing her before at the temple, speaking with Elizabeth. I had to think of something.
“No,” I reassured her, hoping I’d see any recognition in her eyes. I didn’t. “I-I—” I struggled for words. My audience listened expectantly. “Sister Mary? Correct?”
“Yes,” she replied, her eyes now down to where I held her trembling hand.
“Please look up.”
She did.
“Sister Elizabeth asked me to speak to you. May we talk for a moment?” The lie left a disgusting taste on my tongue, but I couldn’t think of anything else.
Mary nodded, first to me and then to her friends. I looked over to Dinah, whose eyes were wide with wonder.
Shit! I needed to think of something to tell her too.
“Sister,” I said toward Dinah, “I’ll be back to the lab in a few minutes.”
“I can wait.”
“That’s all right. This won’t take long. Elizabeth asked me to do her a favor.” My explanation seemed to satisfy Dinah, because she simply smiled and walked toward the door.
Letting go of Mary’s hand, I walked back to the table where Dinah and I had eaten our lunch. “Please, have a seat.”
“I-I don’t have long,” she said as she obediently lowered herself to the chair.
Of course she didn’t. She must be on her break from her workday.
“I don’t want to interrupt your lunch, and I want you to know that nothing we say will be repeated.”
“What?”
“On occasion I help Sister Elizabeth and Brother Luke. You can only imagine how busy they are.” With each word and sentence the lying became easier.
“Sister Elizabeth has been very helpful.”
She continued to stare toward her hands, which were now on her lap. The sight of her with the two other women had brought back an image of women crossing the street in Highland Heights. I couldn’t think about that now.
I lowered my voice. “Mary, please look at me. Do I look familiar?”
Mary peered upward and back down. “Yes.”
My heart leaped.
She went on, “I’ve seen you in the temple, with the other chosen.”
And it sank.
My long-ago conversation with Elizabeth about abusive husbands came back to me. I scanned Mindy’s face and body. Her long-sleeved blouse covered her arms, while jeans covered her legs. But thankfully I didn’t see any signs of abuse on her face. “Are you all right?”
She nodded.
“Are you sure?”
Her pale-blue eyes glistened with moisture. “Are you going to tell Sister Elizabeth something? Will it get back to Adam?”
“No!” I lowered my voice. “No, Mary. There’s nothing wrong. I’m not telling Elizabeth anything. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“B-but I thought you were speaking to me for Sister Elizabeth?”
“I am. Just take a minute and think. Have we met before?”
“Before?” she asked. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember before.” She looked up. “You mean in The Light? We aren’t allowed to talk about the time before that.”
“Do you remember the dark?” I asked in a whisper, hopeful and suddenly curious about whether others had had their memories taken away.
“No. Adam says that we were married before we came here. I don’t remember that either.”
I tilted my head. “Did something happen to affect your memory?”
Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth in a familiar habit. “I don’t remember. Adam said I fell. I woke in the clinic about a year ago. That’s all I know.”
My heart beat rapidly as I contemplated this happening to all the women of the Northern Light. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”
“Yes, I broke my arm and hurt my head.” She fidgeted in her seat as she sought out her friends. They were seated at another table, eating. “I-I am sometimes quite clumsy. Was there anything else Sister Elizabeth wanted you to ask me?”
Guilt settled heavily in my stomach.
Lies, questions, and now I was stopping her lunch.
My eyes went to her friends’ table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you miss your lunch. Did they get you food?”
Her head moved back and forth. “We only have rations for our own meal. No one can get more than one.”