“I promised you no more lies. I’ll always tell you the truth. You don’t have to ask for it. And no, at least not that I’ve ever seen. There’ve been a few banishments since I’ve been on the Assembly, but they’ve been done privately.
“The Eastern Light is different than any of the other campuses. It’s in the middle of the dark. No one can walk away from the Northern or Western Light, not easily. They’re too isolated. So dealing with disputes or corrections doesn’t need to be as public or as severe. Here, obedience on every level is mandatory.”
“Are you defending what happened?” I asked, staring up at him.
“Hell no. There’s no defense. I’m justifying it, to you and to me.”
“I don’t want it justified. I want it stopped. Those kids will be left in some abandoned house in Highland Heights, and no one will question their death, just another drug casualty.”
“If you were a follower here, after what you just witnessed, would you steal drugs or even a paper clip?”
I shook my head.
“Would you disobey any directive?”
“No.”
“Those kids served as reminders for the entire Eastern Light.”
I shook my head. “I’ve always hated reminders.”
Jacob squeezed my hand. “By the way, Brother Raphael left your correction up to me.”
“And?” I asked, with my eyes open wide.
“And I took you to the coffeehouse. It’s done. As if it never happened.”
“Thank you.”
Jacob led me past the open space near the landing strip and into the woods at the perimeter. Looking up, I saw the tall trees and the way the leaves rustled in the breeze. Now that we were away, not only from cameras and microphones, but also from eyes that could peer from the mansion’s balcony or windows, the tension surrounding us lessened, and I leaned against his arm.
“Jacob, where were you right before service?”
“Oh, shit. With all that happened, I actually forgot.”
“What?”
“I received an invitation to go up to the offices on the second floor.”
“Father Gabriel?”
“No. Although he was there, eventually,” Jacob said, rubbing his chin. “It was from your . . . well, I don’t like to think of him as your anything. Ex, maybe?”
I stopped walking. “Dylan? You saw Dylan?”
Jacob nodded. “He punched me.”
My eyes opened wide. I couldn’t imagine it. I remembered how people had told me that Dylan was a hothead, but Jacob was bigger, much taller than Dylan. “Why?”
“He said he’d seen your face. It must have been on the cameras. I doubt he’d have been able to see it from the balcony, especially with your eyes down.”
“That doesn’t make sense. He turned me over to The Light, and then punched you because he assumed you’re the one who did this to me?”
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t get it either. Did you know he’s related to Father Gabriel? Probably he’s related to Garrison Clarkson.”
My brow furrowed. “No, no, he’s not. His parents died when he was eighteen. He said his grandparents were dead, and he didn’t have any siblings.”
“I promised you honesty. I’m telling you what I heard. After he punched me, we exchanged a few words, and Father Gabriel came out of an office. Richards called Father Gabriel Uncle.”
I stopped walking and sat on the ground with my back against a tree. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I searched my memory. “No, I’m not doubting you,” I said quietly. When Jacob sat beside me, I reached for his cheek. Running my fingers along his jaw, I pouted. “I’m sorry he punched you. You didn’t do this. You didn’t deserve it.”
He inclined his face to my touch. “I don’t deserve it for that, but I’m sure I deserve it.”
“Well . . . that could probably be true,” I admitted with a grin. Glancing over his shoulder, I nodded in that direction. “What’s that over there?”
Jacob turned. In the distance was a concrete wall. With the trees I couldn’t see how high it was, or see the rest of the building. I didn’t remember seeing other buildings at the rear of the property when I’d looked on Google Earth.
“It’s a wall, like we have at the Northern Light. Although I’d guess polar bears aren’t too much of a problem around here. When I first started flying here it wasn’t here. I assumed they thought the woods would keep them safe, but a little under a year ago”—he reached for my hand and smiled—“about the time my life became fucked up, I saw the construction as I’d fly in. It took them a few months, but it completely encases the rear of the property.”
Even if I hadn’t seen Dylan on the balcony, what Jacob had just said confirmed that Dylan was involved, and that he’d lied to me. “You may think I’m crazy, but I think I’m the reason they built the wall.”
“You. Why?”
“My friend, Mindy Rosemont—Mary at the Northern Light,” I added to help him remember. “Besides researching The Light for a drug story and missing persons and fingertips . . . I was trying to find Mindy.”