She patted the bed beside her. “I’m not having sex with you, but you can sleep here.”
“Are you . . . ?”
“Jacob, I’m not sure how much sleep we’ll get. We have a lot to talk about.”
I moved back to the bed. “Your memory?”
“Over a week ago, when you were gone for a few nights. You went to the Eastern . . . Detroit.”
I nodded. “I can’t believe I didn’t know.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. “I was afraid you did. The moment I saw you again, I knew I couldn’t hide it from you. So I didn’t try. When I was with you, I turned Stella off. I had to.”
“What do you mean, you turned her off?”
She turned to face me. “How have you done it? I mean for three years. That’s a long time.”
I stared up at the ceiling. It was one of those bumpy ones, painted, but the white paint had discolored to a faint yellow with time. “You know what?” I said. “I get it. When I first went to the Eastern Light, I had to think about what I said and how I acted, but then, with time, I became Jacob.”
I recalled the earlier training. Women weren’t the only ones to be indoctrinated. It wasn’t called that with men. It was called training—making it sound military or strategic. The first few weeks at the Eastern Light were a boot camp of sorts. It was where the men deemed unfit were weeded out. It was where Father Gabriel’s word became second nature, where The Light’s way of thinking was either embraced or rejected.
Those who rejected it didn’t succeed. They didn’t go on to become Assemblymen. I studied. I listened, and I performed. I couldn’t fail.
I sighed at the memories and went on with my answer. “In the back of my mind I kept my objective, but I didn’t have to think anymore. I was.”
“So with me . . . ?” She left the question open.
There were so many ways I could go. “With you I had time. You were unconscious for a week.”
“Did you really stay with me, or did I imagine that?”
“I stayed with you.” I didn’t want to tell her that Dr. Newton had injured her more between the attack and when I got to her. She didn’t need to know how depraved he was too. When she only nodded, I went on. “So I had time to work through my issues. I talked to you. I confessed the truth about our relationship.”
“That we didn’t have one?”
“No. I said it was new, but I also told you that I’d seen you, and I’d do my damnedest to make you laugh like you had.”
Staring straight ahead, she wiped a tear.
“I’m so sorry.”
Sara shook her head. “The thing is, you did. In that whole fucked-up world, I wasn’t really unhappy. I was at first, but then it felt . . . I don’t know . . . right.” She turned toward me. Her cheeks were dotted with blotchy red patches, the way they were when she cried. “I want to hate you. When my memories first came back, I hoped you were a victim too. That’s what I tried to convince myself. But now, knowing that you knew, that you were part of it . . . I want to hate you.
“The thing is, as Sara I’m so different than I am as Stella. Different, not better or worse. Stella had a career and a fish.” She laughed. “I hope Dylan took care of Fred.”
I doubted that asshole had done anything, but I wouldn’t say that either. “Fred? Was that your fish?”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Yes. I feel like I’m two different people. Stella had a fish. Sara wanted a baby.”
“Do you understand why I said no?”
She nodded. “Now I do, but I . . .” She looked down.
“I know what you did. It’s why your memory came back.”
Her gaze snapped back to mine. “You know? How do you know?”
“The drug that kept your memory away was in your birth control medicine. And, well, Raquel told me.”
She nodded with the confirmation of her theory and then huffed. “So much for friendship confidentiality.”
“In all fairness, she didn’t tell me until today.”
“Today?”
“Well, it seems like longer ago than that. After the incident with Brother Timothy, Sister Lilith, and your hair, I worried about leaving you alone, especially since I had to be gone overnight. So one of the times I left, early on after we returned to the community, I bought a burner phone. You know, a disposable one, untraceable?”
She nodded, her eyes wide.
“I took a chance. Elizabeth is too conditioned. I knew I couldn’t ask her to break rules.”
“So you asked Raquel?”
I nodded. “Benjamin knew too. We all prayed that the phone would never need to be used.”
Sara reached for my hand. I rolled my wrist so our palms would touch and our fingers intertwine. “See,” she said, “I’m so mixed up. I hate that it was all a lie, but things like that make it seem real.”
I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I told you that I didn’t lie about my feelings.”