"Good luck." Jasmine gave me a hug and a kiss as she stood next to Savannah in the hotel parking lot outside Caldwell, Idaho. I was wearing my pink prairie dress, and my hair was pinned and braided the way all the women on the compound wore their hair.

"We'll be waiting here for you. We'll get them out. Don't worry," Jasmine said.

I hugged Savannah too. "We're with you in spirit," she said.

"Thank you. It gives me courage."

Rogan took my hand and guided me away from my sisters. He checked the recording device in my necklace one last time. "Be smart. Don't panic."

"Make sure the kids are safe," I replied.

"I will die before I let anyone hurt you or them."

Lachlan gave us a thumbs up from the van across the lot. An army of plainclothed agents milled around, checking equipment and preparing to send me in.

Rogan pressed me up against the wall and kissed me gently. I whimpered into his mouth. He grabbed my lower back, pulling me to my tiptoes. He deepened the kiss, growling and ratcheting up the intensity.

He may have been staking his claim in front of Lachlan, but I didn't care. His kisses rocked my world every time, and if this was to be our last kiss, it was a memorable one.

He pulled away and raised his head. "Bye."

I took a deep breath as he released me slowly. I imagined harnessing his strength and the warmth of his touch to bring with me to face my father.

"Bye."

I felt his eyes on me as I walked across the lot to Lachlan.

***

As the sun set and darkness closed in, Lachlan dropped me off a few blocks from the compound entrance. My insides turned to stone with each crunch of my boots on the sidewalk. In the twelve months I'd been gone, the walls surrounding the compound grew higher and more menacing.

With each step, I walked away from the life I'd made outside and back to the one I'd escaped.

No one was guarding the front gate, so I walked right through. My throat clogged as I knocked on my old front door. Aunesty, Father's third wife, answered it and stared at me for a second. Her eyes widened, and she grabbed my arm to pull me inside.

"Vanity? My word. What are you… Come in. Come in. Jeb!"

My father came out from the back of the house with three of the other sister wives. He feigned surprise and held his arms open for me. "Vanity. Vanity. My girl."

He was putting on a show for his wives, pretending like he didn't attack me at my place of work two months ago. I stepped into his arms and let him hug me. "Hello, Father."

He pulled away and focused on my necklace. Oh no. What if he made me remove it?

"Kneel."

I dropped to my knees and curved my spine till my forehead touched the floor.

"Rise."

I stood again and took a deep breath. Here we go.

"They told us you died," Aunesty said.

"No, they released me, and I flew home."

Milo came out of the bedroom, and his eyes bugged out. He raced to me and slung his little arms around me.

"Milo. You're so big now."

He cried so hard he couldn't speak. I cried too and stroked his head and neck. "Shh… Everything's going to be okay." It felt so good to hold him again. I should've come sooner.

Temperance, Philander, Mercy, and Heathen all came out with shocked faces. When they hugged me I knew I was here for the right reasons. They needed me.

"You all can visit with Vanity tomorrow. It's bedtime now." My father glared at me like I shouldn't have come this late.

It was the only time I knew you'd be home.

Aunesty, Temperance, and I tucked the kids into bed.

"Nite-nite, Tee-tee."

"Nite-nite, Lo-lo. I love you. Your dreams are about to arrive."

"You're already here." Milo grinned and snuggled his teddy.

My father stood behind me as I closed the door to the room where the four youngest children slept. "Let's go, honeysuckle."

I held my breath and my spine stiffened hearing his obnoxious nickname for me again. He took me to the private men's room on the second floor of the house. I gawked at the opulence. Flat screen TVs, a modern desk, a bed with a gilded headboard.

"You live like this up here? And we starve downstairs?"

"I am God's prophet. He provides for his son."

Oh, please.

As he closed the door, I gasped. Zook Guthrie stood by the far wall.

"Why's Zook here?"

"I've had a revelation." He clasped his hands and bent forward as he walked to me. "God wants you to be with Zook. The heavenly father will take you back into the church and forgive your sins if you repent and become Zook's first wife."

"No."

"You wanted Zook, remember? I caught you fornicating with him. I realize now that was an early sign of your predestined celestial union. I was selfish and kept you for myself, but I'll let you be with him. He's a chosen seed bearer. God has deemed him worthy to copulate with you to summon his angel babies to earth."

Oh boy. My father had taken a one-way ride on the crazy train.

I stared at Zook in the corner. We'd been so close once. He was the only person I'd felt I could trust. We were teenagers in love. He looked down then, his face drawn. He was stuck in my father's trap as deep as the women were. I mustered up my courage and played along.

"Zook is a chosen seed bearer?" I examined him with a speculative stare. "So, if I became his wife, I wouldn't be forced to sleep with other seed bearers?"

"No, if you marry a seed bearer, your obligation is met. You know this. See, I thought you might prefer one sexual partner, and I know you fancy Zook."

Yes, I might like not being raped while my husband holds my hand and watches.

"But if he's a seed bearer, would he sleep with other women? Even those not one of his wives?"

"Yes, honeysuckle. Why is this so hard to understand? God revealed to me that the seed bearers shall be the only men to procreate the chosen children. Their husbands will understand, and the wives must abide or face the consequence of excommunication."

Any shred of guilt I felt for betraying my father left me at that point. He truly believed the wives should allow themselves to be raped or face homelessness and giving up their children.

"I've had a revelation myself, Father." I took a deep breath and envisioned Rogan standing strong and powerful behind me.

My father's mouth dropped open and he stared at me.

"I want to leave the church."

"Why?" His eyes flared. "Is it that man who rescued you?"

His comment threw me off. Did he know Rogan rescued me from the terrorists? No, he must've been referring to the attack two months ago in the Siege parking lot.

"Yes. He rescued me in many ways. I'm in love."

Zook's head popped up and his brow furrowed.

Yes, Zook, I love the big hulk of a man who beat my father to a pulp in the parking lot and made you run like a coward.

"What's his name?" my father asked.

"Rogan Saxton. I want your blessing to be with Rogan on the outside."

"I cannot grant you blessings. This outsider is not chosen."

"He has been chosen—by me." I raised my chin.

"His soul will rot in hell, and so will yours if you tie yourself to him on earth."

"I've decided to take that chance."

"Instant gratification is a lure of the devil, Vanity. Preparing for your eternal future will guide you to make wholesome choices in this life."

His hypocrisy knew no bounds! No one had ever put this man in his place. I'd endured the wrath of his anger before, and I knew my words would set him off. The time had come to be brave. If Rogan could charge into caves filled with evil men with guns and bombs, I could challenge my delusional father.

"How are your choices wholesome or divine? You rape a different woman every night." His head jerked back hearing me accuse him for the first time. "You have children you don't talk to except to punish them with beatings."

"Do not speak blasphemy to your prophet, Vanity. I am the living representative of God, and I do his will by keeping many wives and creating children that will ascend into the highest levels of heaven with me."

"You tell yourself that, but it's all a lie. Hurting women and children is not God's will. He wants you to love your wives and your sons and daughters. That's all they want is to be loved by you. But you're too obsessed controlling them with prophecies and threats. Your manipulation to your will leaves no room for love."

"I love all my wives and children." His voice was a low hiss.

"Love does not molest."

His face contorted in pain and confusion. "Molest? No." He placed a hand on my face and stared into my eyes. "You carry your mother's spirit, honeysuckle. When I lost her, I was heartbroken. I lay with you to hold a piece of her close to my heart. You are my spirit wife."

"I see it now." I stared into his beady eyes. "You're so misguided. You violated me."

"No. Don't tarnish the gifts we offered God in the name of love." He added his other hand to my face and rubbed my cheeks with his thumbs.

"It's abuse. It's illegal."

His fingers constricted and pressed into my temples. "You speak lies, you apostate. I never penetrated you. I kept you pure. Stop this nonsense now!"

"Did you threaten to kill me if I didn't allow you to leave your seed between my legs?"

"Yes, yes, blood atonement is the declared penalty of dissension. I wouldn't have really killed you, honeysuckle, but you had to believe I would. My role as prophet is to force you to see God's plan. You can't go against it or the wrath of hell will descend upon your soul."

"Did you carve scars into my shoulder to mark my transgressions?"

"Vanity. Do not push me any farther. God decrees we lay down a heavy hand on all who disobey his church. The marks I placed on your back served to break your selfish will and shelter you from sin."

"Did you kill Uncle Yoder?"

"How do you know about that?" Sweat glistened on his forehead. He was losing control.

"Did you kill him in the barn fire?"

His hands shook. "Yoder Burkholder was leading the church astray. God spoke to me and told me he should die in a pit of fire. I only fulfilled the prophecy."

And with that, he had confessed. Any jury would put this nutjob away for life.

His hands clasped my neck. "Have I failed in all my efforts to gain you access to heaven? Have you become a slut? You dance like a whore and ask to leave with an outsider? Did you fornicate with him?"

"No." I gasped for air as he squeezed my windpipe.

"You lie. The prophet can see your true intention." My father's eyes lit with venom. "Demons possess you!"

"No."

He shook my neck, rattling my head and blurring my vision. "Satan convinces you to reject the life God has spoken for you through me."

He pushed me to a chair. "Sit." He tied my arms and legs. "If you repent now, I can appeal to God to exorcise your demons. It will be painful, but he will save your lost soul."

"No. I will not. If this is the devil's work, then I welcome him to do more. I love Rogan. He's good. There's no evil in him."

My father's face reddened and smoke billowed from his ears. "Then you shall pay the price for this licentiousness. What's this Rogan person's number?"

"My cell phone's in my pocket. Call him."

He pulled my phone from my pocket and turned his back to me as he dialed Rogan on video chat on a laptop on his desk.

"Hello. Are you Rogan Saxton?"

"I am." Rogan's deep voice and handsome face greeted me from the monitor. He was here with me, digitally anyway.

"You want to sponsor Vanity out of my church?"

"I do."

My father looked back at me with his eyebrows raised. "Have you fornicated with her?"

"Have you?" Rogan's cool voice answered with a question.

My father's gaze snapped back to the monitor.

Oh goodness. Not a good start.

"Two million. Cash." My father's spoke in his angry wrath-of-God tenor.

"No problem. Where do you want that delivered?"

My father tilted his chin at Rogan's casual response to his outlandish demand. "Do you plan to marry her?"

No, no, no. Rogan won't say yes. This could ruin everything.

"Yes. I want to marry her. I want that more than anything. I'll take good care of her. Got a ring right here." Rogan dropped to one knee and held out a blue velvet box. He opened it and revealed a huge, sparkling diamond ring. Was he pretending? Had he changed his mind about marriage? This must be part of the act. I stared at the image of Rogan on one knee, something I never thought I'd see. "I want her to wear my ring so every man who covets her beauty will know she's mine and I'm hers alone. I'll never cheapen her by loving another in spirit or in flesh."

My father's fists clenched. "You brazenly insult me at the same time you ask me for a favor? She is at my mercy."

He turned and stalked toward me with his fist poised to strike. I closed my eyes and let the thud on my face pass through me. The familiar sting of his swift hand tingled in my cheek as my head flung back.

As I straightened my neck, Rogan's voice became more urgent. "Hey, Jeb! Jeb! Listen here."

My father turned his back on me and focused on the screen again.

"I'll bring the money to the drugstore in Caldwell by tomorrow noon."

I lowered my head to cry. To antagonize Rogan, my father would strike me over and over. This beating would be his worst ever.