I rolled my neck, trying to relieve the tension that wouldn’t lessen. As I did, my eyes veiled and I looked down. Beside my seat, wedged next to the controls, was something white. Fumbling for the corner, I squeezed my fingers into the tight space and pulled.
Whatever Father Gabriel had been so desperate to find was in my hand. I read the front of the plain white envelope: Father. Instead of opening it, I folded it in half and slid it into the inside pocket of my jacket.
Father Gabriel’s teachings came back to me with new understanding. I suspected that after three years, it would be a long time before all the doctrine I’d learned didn’t come to mind. However, the one I was thinking about wasn’t necessarily perverse. It was one of the ones I’d recited to Sara and made her recite to me. It was about a wife giving everything to her husband, releasing it and being free. I’d seen the relief in her beautiful face more times than I could count—times when she was upset or sad, times when she was scared or guilty. Even when she knew that sharing her concerns or confessing her transgressions would result in correction, the process of giving it over to me had given her peace. Whatever was bothering her was no longer her concern, but had become mine.
That same overwhelming rush of relief that I’d seen on her face filled me as I pocketed Brother Reuben’s envelope. I was no longer responsible for deciding whether its contents were important. I was no longer alone in this fight. As soon as we landed in Anchorage, I’d pass the envelope and all my information on to my team at the bureau. What they did with it was at their discretion and no longer my concern.
I planned to leave Benjamin and Raquel in Anchorage. I’d gladly debrief for the entire flight to Detroit, but getting to Sara was now my main concern. The FBI could handle The Light. I now fully understood the gift that lesson had been to Sara. For a moment, as I flew above the white rolling clouds, my neck lost its tension.
“How long until we get to Anchorage?” Benjamin’s voice reminded me where we were. In my mind I was already beyond Anchorage and on my way to Sara.
“It’s about an hour and a half. Agent Adler will have teams waiting for us. They’ll have an ambulance ready for Raquel. How’s she doing?”
“I’m scared. She’s cold, but I feel a pulse.”
“I’m praying for her, and doing my best.”
“Are you?” Benjamin asked.
“Am I what?”
“I’m just confused. What was real?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I know I had a mission. I know there were parts of The Light I recognized as wrong. I also know there were parts that I understood and made sense. I know what I feel for Sara, or Stella, isn’t fake. We spent a lot of time talking after I confessed who I was and knowing who she was. I don’t know if she’s pregnant or not, but either way, just because this is over, I don’t want to give her up.”
“Pregnant? Really?” he asked.
Shit!
He and Raquel had been trying for a few years to get pregnant.
“We don’t know. She’s been sick and, as you know, she quit taking her birth control, but we don’t know if she’s pregnant. There’s been a lot happening. She might just be ill and throwing up because of nerves.”
“Yeah, I remember when Raquel got her memory back. It was a rough time, but at the same time, it was good. It felt liberating to finally be honest with her.”
I sighed. “It did, but we haven’t had much of a chance to discuss it.” I looked at my watch; it was only ten after nine. “She left Friday morning. Monday isn’t even done. Our whole damn lives have changed in less than four days.”
“Tell me about it.”
I looked back. He was still holding Raquel’s hand with his head back against the seat, and his eyes were closed.
“Tell me about Raquel. What did she mean when she said she was destined to die that way?”
“I don’t like to think about it, but”—his voice hitched—“I suppose it’s easier than seeing how she is now.”
“Hey, you don’t need to say—”
He interrupted me. “No, talking keeps my mind off the future.” He paused. “Before she was brought to The Light she was a prostitute in Highland Heights, a runaway. Her parents died and she ended up in the foster care system. When she was seventeen she hitched a ride with a trucker. It was her first time, and she said he wasn’t terrible. Afterward he gave her cash, and she’d found her new profession. She doesn’t exactly remember how she ended up in Highland Heights, but if you were to ask her, she’d tell you it was divine intervention. She’d also tell you that despite the indoctrination, she was thankful she did.
“I can’t imagine her living that life. Even the thought of it breaks my heart. When Brother Raphael released us, I knew we’d die out there, in the dark. I just wasn’t willing to let her die alone. That’s why I took her to the hangar. I honestly thought someone would find us and just kill us. It would’ve been easier than starvation, exposure, or animal attack. I knew about banishments, but I’d always suspected that we would . . . I really didn’t even consider.”