I didn’t see much of Bastian or David for the first few days after they arrived.

Which was just as well. I was starting to think Bastian Scott’s presence was a herald of doom.

Nothing had felt quite right since he and his brother had shown up. I couldn’t shake the sense of disquiet that had lodged itself deep in my gut.

After we had gotten back to The Retreat all those days ago, Pastor Carter had taken the Scott brothers to a cabin on the edge of the woods. It was newly built. I had seen the men erecting the structure over the course of several weeks.

I had expected to see them at mealtime. Or prayer time. They showed up to neither.

I wondered why. It was unusual for new disciples to be kept separate. Usually they were integrated immediately. Pastor would bring them to the gathering room and we would come together, listening closely as our leader spoke to the new members. It was a ritualized beginning for a routinized way of life. We were never given a back story. The past didn’t matter. It was the present that we concentrated on. Our collective future that was the goal.

We’d pray together. We’d sing together. It allowed us all to begin to acquaint ourselves. To learn. To develop an attachment that was essential if we were to be family.

There was no immersion when it came to David and Bastian.

There was something about the Scott brothers that seemed different. I thought about Bastian the night he and David came and I knew that had to be part of the issue. Bastian wasn’t meant to be a disciple. I knew a non-believer when I saw one. He had swallowed his misgivings to follow his brother. Something about that kind of loyalty had gotten to me. Had propelled me to speak out in favor of his joining us inside the gates.

Maybe one day you’ll figure out lying to yourself is almost worse than lying to someone else.

Or maybe that tiny, rebellious part of me that wouldn’t be quashed craved the newness he brought with him. The air of dissent that sizzled in his wake.

He didn’t look at Pastor Carter as though he were the Lord incarnate. Bastian met his eyes and dared him to make a believer out of him. There was a challenge in his demeanor that I found sort of exciting.

It was wrong of me to feel that way.

I had turned the underside of my arms black and blue trying to get rid of these unwanted thoughts.

While others were impatient to meet the brothers, who had come days ago and been kept a strange sort of secret, I wasn’t.

The thrill of their presence disturbed me.

I wonder if you really are. If you’re really fine. Because to me it doesn’t seem that way.

“I saw the younger one through the window of their cabin. He must have been talking to the older brother and he didn’t seem happy,” Anne mentioned as she plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between her fingers.

“What were you doing skulking outside their cabin?” Minnie made a face and Stafford chuckled. I wanted to smack the both of them for their rudeness. Anne barely seemed to notice. That was how she was. She never paid attention when she should. Her obliviousness was both beautiful and sad.

“I was walking to the shower. It’s on the way,” Anne corrected, sucking the grass between her lips.

“What are their names again, Sara? I can’t remember,” she asked, leaning back on her hands, spitting the grass from her mouth.

Five sets of eyes swung my way, waiting for me to answer. Eager for information, Minnie leaned forward, her eyes wide. “Tell us everything, Sara. You were there for their arrival. What happened?”

We all sat outside in a group—as we always did—waiting for Devotional to begin.

Anne, Minnie, Caitlyn, Stafford, Bobbie, and I formed a deformed sort of circle. Knees touching, hands folded in our laps.

All of us dressed in white, as was dictated for the quiet, reflective prayer time all disciples were expected to attend for three hours daily.

When I was younger I dreaded Devotional time. I found it boring. And you are absolutely forbidden from falling asleep.

“Close your eyes and connect with God. Listen to the sun’s melody. It will help guide you on your path. It reveals all truths,” Pastor Carter told us. I couldn’t understand why I was told to close my eyes but not permitted to sleep.

I learned quickly there were consequences for not adhering to the order of things.

I was comfortable. The grass was warm on my back. The sun was like a blanket over my skin. The soft, synchronized breaths of the disciples around me sounded like a lullaby.

I actually started to relax a little. For the first time in a long time my nine-year-old body didn’t feel coiled like a spring.

I wasn’t taking to my new life very well. Everyone saw it.

Most of all Pastor Carter.

I hadn’t meant to drift off. But I did.

I was jostled awake by my mother’s angry voice.

“Wake up, Sara! Wake up!”

I opened my eyes to find a group of faces staring down at me.

And Pastor Carter, his expression stern in the middle of it all.

“I think Sara is missing the point of Daily Devotional.” He was so quiet. But so kind. As if he felt sorry for me. As if I were breaking his heart by disappointing him.

I couldn’t be angry when he locked me in the tiny, windowless room in the woods. The air hot and still.

I was told this was for my benefit. I had to learn. I had to be saved.

I believed Pastor even as I struggled not to freak out in the dark.

I couldn’t be upset when I was kept there for several days to learn the importance of prayer. The importance of obedience.

The importance of following God’s word in all things.

Because he only wanted the best for me. My soul mattered…

Anne snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Hello! Earth to Sara!”

I blinked to clear my vision and gave her my attention once again. “Sorry, what was the question?”

Stafford and Minnie snorted, sharing a look, but I ignored them. They loved any excuse to look down on me. Anne said it was their jealousy because I was special. Because Pastor Carter valued me most.

It didn’t stop it from hurting. In some ways, I was still your typical eighteen-year-old girl wanting to be liked and accepted by her peers. Most days I felt full and warm.

Some days…

I didn’t.

My cheeks flamed hot. I wanted to tell Stafford, with his dread locked hair and silly woven necklaces, to shut up. I wanted to tell Minnie that kissing up to every single elder, including my mother, wouldn’t make her more important.

But I didn’t.

Speaking my true mind got me nowhere.

There were consequences to voicing negativity.

Anne put her hand on my knee, her eyes forever kind. “The new disciples. The young one. What’s his name?”

“Bastian Scott,” I answered.

Saying his name felt strange on my tongue. Foreign and uncomfortable.

“Bastian? What kind of name is Bastian?” Stafford snickered.

“It’s right up there with Stafford,” Anne retorted, her lips pulling upwards in a mischievous smirk. My eyes widened in surprise. Anne wasn’t known for her zingy comebacks.

“Ha-ha, Anne,” Stafford muttered.

“Seriously though, why haven’t they been to lessons? Or Daily Devotional? Or the Sun’s Morning Blessing?” Minnie pointed out.

“Pastor Carter has his reasons,” I cut in tersely.

Minnie and Stafford rolled their eyes in unison. “I should have known better than to say anything in front of super disciple,” Minnie snarked.

“Minnie, enough,” Bobbie snapped. “Pastor Carter has taught us to be kind to each other. So be kind.” Minnie’s eyes widened slightly but she shut up. Stafford looked away, his cheeks red.

We were all a little surprised. Bobbie wasn’t one to speak often. He was a quiet sort. Kept to himself. He only sat with us because it was expected. He only added to the conversation when it was required. I was shocked he came to my defense at all.

“It’s okay, Bobbie—”

He waved away my words as if it was all so inconsequential. I didn’t bother to thank him again. I wasn’t sure if it would even matter to him. Bobbie Mann was a mystery. More so than the other disciples. No one knew much about his past. He came to The Retreat when he was sixteen with nothing more than the shirt on his back. He didn’t arrive with anyone. He never spoke of his past. He never cried for lost family. He came alone. And that seemed to suit him. I always wondered where his parents were, but no one ever said. He was embraced as part of the family and that was that.

“Shit, there they are,” Stafford whispered and all our attention immediately went elsewhere.

The murmurs around us stopped. Silence blanketed everything as we took in the appearance of our newest family members. And it wasn’t the tranquil kind of quiet that we were used to. This was expectant. Curious. Even as we all tried to hide it. We observed closely, gleaning details where we could.

David and Bastian stood at the edge of the clearing. David had shaved and was now wearing a pair of camouflage pants and a grey T-shirt. Still wearing his own clothes, he looked hopelessly out of place. And tired.

Even from that distance I could see the dark circles beneath his eyes. He ran a hand over his closely shorn head and I got the impression it was an agitated gesture. His gaze flitted around the congregation before him, landing on each of us briefly but never lingering.

His brother was another story. Bastian stood tall, his shoulders rigid. He was neatly dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark blue button down shirt. His lips were pursed in a thin line and he lifted his chin almost defiantly.

Clearly no one had informed them of the severe dress code. They stood out like an obscenity in their loud colors in a sea of white uniformity.

Pastor Carter approached them, and like the night they arrived, David seemed to cling to everything he was saying. His eyes never left our leader’s face. Bastian nodded at whatever they were being told. Pastor clasped his shoulder and I thought I could see him tense. When Pastor Carter turned away, Bastian said something to David, whose expression became angry. There seemed to be an exchange of terse words before the brothers made their way to a spot beneath a tree. They settled on the grass, backs against the thick trunk. For Bastian it seemed a protective measure. Them against us.

I watched the younger Scott brother closely the entire time. His presence in the otherwise docile Devotional circle felt unsettling.

Minnie made a noise of disappointment. “I was hoping they’d be cuter,” she pouted. “Though I guess the one in the blue shirt is okay. He has nice shoulders. And he has one of those Roman noses. Long and straight.” She smoothed her hair and pinched her cheeks. Stafford scowled.

Anne cocked her head to the side and regarded the newest members of our flock. “I don’t know, the one in the camo has something about him…” Her voice trailed off and then she cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter, with a strained smile. “And the younger one is interesting to look at,” she added quickly, as if in a rush.

No one noticed my best friend’s strange behavior but me.

Stafford rolled his eyes, obviously still irritated by Minnie’s waning attention. “He looks pissed off. And the older one is clearly deranged. Like he’s going to kill us all in our sleep. What was Pastor Carter thinking letting them in the gate?”

“He doesn’t look deranged,” Anne argued, staring at the two men who had invaded our world. “He looks sad. I wonder why he’s so sad?”

I grabbed Anne’s hand and squeezed. She closed her mouth, silencing words that shouldn’t be spoken.

She was in dangerous territory. She knew it. I knew it. Minnie, who wasn’t as vacuous as she pretended, knew it too. She smirked at Anne, her eyebrows raised.

“Well whatever he is, he looks like a shooter. We don’t need someone like that here,” Stafford griped.

Minnie gave Stafford a teasing smile. “Jealous they’re getting all the attention, Staff?” He flushed, looking away. Minnie giggled, enjoying herself.

“They look like two guys with a bunch of people staring at them,” Bobbie added with an edge to his voice. He was being incredibly vocal today.

“They could be a little friendlier,” Caitlyn added. “Why are they sitting over there all by themselves?” She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. She turned to me, wanting my opinion. “You’ve spoken to them, Sara, what are they like?”

Everyone looked at me expectantly.

“I know as much about them as you do. Besides, Pastor Carter wouldn’t have let them in if they weren’t meant to be disciples,” I reminded them primly.

Caitlyn nodded, accepting what I had to say. Minnie and Stafford exchanged a look that I didn’t have to be a mind reader to understand.

Such a kiss ass. Little Miss Perfect. Pastor’s favorite.

I lifted my chin defiantly. Unconsciously mimicking Bastian’s earlier gesture. When I realized what I was doing I forcibly relaxed and exuded a calm I wanted to feel. Their opinion of me didn’t matter, I told myself. I wished I could believe it.

I tried to ignore the presence of the Scotts. Even as our family resumed their quiet contemplation in preparation for the devotional, we were all too aware of the ripple in the current around us.

I couldn’t help myself from following the group’s collective gaze. I didn’t want to be caught staring, but I did it anyway. It had been a long time since we had had new members so everyone was curious about them. But curiosity wasn’t the only reason I looked. There was a persistent buzz beneath my skin. It felt wrong. Oppressive. I could sense Bastian’s disquiet. He disrupted the peaceful harmony Pastor worked so hard to create.

I watched as several people approached them. David barely lifted his head. I didn’t know whether it was shyness or indifference that made him brush the others off. Either way, I couldn’t help but feel compassion for him. I didn’t know David, but there was something fragile about him. Vulnerable. He was a man with a horrible burden. And for that, I understood his brother’s protectiveness.

I turned my attention to Bastian. As much as I didn’t want to. He was something else. He wasn’t fragile. And he certainly wasn’t vulnerable. I could feel his energy—combative, though he was trying hard to hide it. He spoke to each person who greeted them, all the while maintaining a protective barrier between them and his brother. I half expected him to bare his teeth and snarl.

I had encountered a mother bear in the woods once. I had been picking blackberries with Stafford and Minnie but had become separated from them. I was alone when I turned and found the giant animal directly behind me. I had unknowingly gotten too close to two small cubs. The mother bear had risen up on her back legs, roaring loudly. Warning me to run.

When I looked at Bastian, I saw that mama bear. I knew he’d use his claws if anyone threatened David. I imagined he’d be fierce in his loyalty. Unyielding in his protection.

He was a little scary, mostly in that he was an unpredictable variable. And we were a family that thrived on certainty.

Anne was right though. He was interesting to look at. But in a way that had nothing to do with his physical features. I almost wanted to chip away the hostile exterior and expose him for what he really was beneath all that. I had the sense that he didn’t wear this aggression comfortably. As if it were new to him. Heavy and cumbersome. But he bore the mantle anyway, if it meant keeping David safe.

I couldn’t help but respect that. Grudging as it may be.

No one, but myself and Pastor Carter, knew the details of their arrival. All anyone had been told was that one arrival had become two.

I hadn’t told Anne or my mom about Bastian’s pleas to stay. How I suspected that his desire to become a disciple had nothing to do with our teachings and everything to do with the emotionally delicate man he came with.

I didn’t trust Bastian. I didn’t believe he would ever embrace our ways. Our beliefs. His presence at The Retreat felt like glass under my skin. Alien and potentially dangerous.

Then I’d feel silly for giving any one person so much power. How could one man bring our whole world crashing down? It didn’t seem possible.

Was our existence so flimsy that one man could be that much of a threat?

I didn’t want to think about the answer to that.

So I didn’t.

I refused to give niggling doubts any purchase in my mind.

Pastor pulled me aside after we had shown David and Bastian the small cabin that would be their new home.

Neither man had said anything after Pastor had turned on the lights to reveal a barren room with two single beds, a window on the far wall, and a non-descript bathroom off to the side with only a toilet and a sink.

There was sawdust still on the floor from the hasty construction. The sharp smell of sap from the wood stung my nose.

“Where are we supposed to take a shower?” Bastian asked, his lip curling in disgust that he instantly tried to paint as something else. But I had seen it.

“There’s a communal shower stall through the trees at the back. Men and women bathe separately of course,” I explained.

Bastian raised an eyebrow. “Of course,” he repeated and I swore I could hear the condescension. He looked around of the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Quaint,” was all he said, voice deceptively neutral. The one room house lacked personal touches. It was devoid of all color. I found the entire space pretty depressing, though I’d never say it out loud.

“Things don’t matter here. It’s about the path. About God’s message,” I found myself saying defensively.

Bastian sat down heavily on one of the beds with a sigh. “The path,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

“Yes, the path. It’s why we’re here,” I snapped, angry for some reason. David said nothing. He was a hulking, silent presence in the corner of the room. Bastian simply raised his eyebrows.

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” I goaded, wanting a response from him that wasn’t hidden disdain. I didn’t trust him. Why had I advocated for him to stay again?

Because I was a sentimental fool who had been swayed by sad eyes. Because I had almost envied his love for his brother, wishing that when I had arrived, I had someone that would have missed me.

I was an idiot. Now I had to deal with the consequences of my spontaneous decision.

Bastian Scott didn’t belong.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” Bastian said firmly.

I realized how easy it was for lies to sound like the truth.

Pastor Carter put his hand on my elbow. “Let’s give them some time to get settled, Sara.”

Bastian hadn’t looked away. He was watching me closely. As closely as I watched him. Maybe he didn’t trust me either.

“Okay,” was all I said, following Pastor to the door. I hesitated before leaving, feeling the need to say something else to Bastian. He made me inordinately argumentative.

Instead I gave him and his brother my sweetest, most agreeable smile. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

I felt Pastor Carter’s approval. I had done well. Despite Bastian and his weird, antagonistic vibe, I was able to maintain the role I was meant to serve.

Without a backwards glance, I left the men to their new home, Pastor Carter leading the way.

“Thank you,” he said with a warm smile once we were outside.

I bowed my head in diffidently. “I didn’t do anything. Not really.”

Pastor patted my arm, his fingers curling around my skin. Holding me still. Keeping me steady. “You helped immensely with Bastian.”

I glanced through the open doorway to where David and Bastian were talking in low murmurs. Bastian was frowning, his hands gesticulating in an agitated manner. He said he wanted to stay. He wanted to join the flock. But looking at him now, I knew my instincts were right. He was a liar.

But I had led him here. I had opened the door. Pastor had been ready to leave him on the other side of the gate. Yet I had insisted.

All because I was moved by his love for his brother? I felt foolish and beyond silly.

But he was here now. There was nothing to do except keep an eye on him. Make it right before I made it worse.

“Perhaps he shouldn’t be here…” my words drifted off and I immediately felt shame at voicing my inner concerns. Because they sounded judgmental. And we were supposed to be beyond judgments. Those were reserved for God.

But Pastor Carter didn’t chastise me. He squeezed my arm, his hand hot. His light green eyes became cold. Hard. “If there’s a wolf amongst the sheep then we will do what’s best for the flock,” he replied softly.

Something inside of me tightened. His words felt like a threat. Towards Bastian.

Towards everyone.

“Do you understand me, Sara?” he asked.

I nodded, even though I didn’t. Not really. Not in the way I should.

“Let me know how he gets on,” Pastor added as he turned away from the open door. Away from the two men. He began to walk down the steps, but then stopped. “Be my eyes and ears, Sara. I trust your sight.”

He trusted my sight.

He trusted me.

I felt myself glow with pride. With purpose.

I stood there watching David and Bastian for a bit longer.

Mostly Bastian.

Pastor Carter trusted me.

And I didn’t trust Bastian Scott.

“Should we go say hi?” Anne asked, fidgeting a bit. I could tell she wanted to.

Stafford blew out a noisy breath. “I’m not really interested.”

Minnie playfully smacked his arm. “Staff, remember to keep your heart open.”

“And your soul pure,” Anne, Bobbie and I murmured by rote.

Stafford got to his feet and brushed grass off his pants. “Okay, let’s go make the newbies welcome.” He didn’t seem thrilled by the idea. Stafford was testy at the best of times. I found him and Minnie hard to be around. They said the right words but I knew in their hearts, they were far from the path. They gossiped and judged. They coveted and were full of malicious thoughts.

Outside of the gate, I suspected I wouldn’t have anything to do with either of them.

But here, in this place, we were bonded together.

Bonded by a faith. Bonded by a journey.

Bonded by one man.

We were family.

The threads of our particular fates squeezed and squeezed until we couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

“Let’s go,” Anne agreed, standing up. I followed suit. A little slower. Bobbie, Caitlyn, Minnie, and Stafford approached the Scotts as a group. Anne trailed behind them. I hung back, watching the brothers, in no rush to approach them. My heart did strange hiccups in my chest. Compressed and tight, my insides were a jumbled mess.

Bastian and David got to their feet as the others drew closer, their backs still pressed against the tree. As if defending their position against an oncoming attack.

Anne touched my arm. The contact startled me. I hadn’t realized she’d waited for me. “You okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed with worry.

I nodded, forcing a smile. One that was composed of false confidence. “Of course.”

“Shouldn’t we—?” Anne inclined her head.

“I—” I started to speak. Started to do exactly what I was meant to. Say exactly what I was supposed to say.

Acolyte.

Beloved.

Serene.

But the words—the lies—wouldn’t come. My eyes fixed on Bastian. His face pinched and tense as Stafford spoke to David. As Minnie smiled at him. Her eyelashes lowered. Her lips pouty. She was flirting. Something she shouldn’t be doing. He wasn’t hers to flirt with. That wasn’t her choice to make. Stafford did little to hide his displeasure.

“Sara.” Anne said my name. Soft and low. She knew me. She knew the ins and outs of my heart in a way few did. Not my mother. Not Stafford or Minnie.

Just her. Just Pastor Carter.

No one else.

The girl was tiny. She didn’t look much older than ten or eleven. Her light, brown hair was a tangled mess down her back. Her dark eyes were shadowed and careful. I watched her watch everyone else. Watched her take in her new surroundings. The new people.

Mom was by Pastor Carter’s side. As always. Their shoulders brushing together. Her smile wide and brimming with purpose.

I stood off to the side. My place was on the fringes. I was young. Only thirteen. I had no place in the arrival. The welcoming of someone new.

The girl and her father had come, as they all do, in the evening. When the sun was going to bed and the day had breathed its last. Pastor Carter said it was the time of day to slough away our old skins. To grow new ones. He insisted this was the only time for an arrival.

The small group huddled together, talking low. Their voices hushed and muffled in the room. The Gathering stood around them. No one talking, save for the four people all eyes were fixed on.

I stood ramrod straight. As I had been taught to.

But the girl hadn’t been taught to be still. To listen more than talk. To control your emotions unless asked. I could see her unhappiness. The way she clung to her father’s hand was needy and sad. And when she began to cry, I shuddered in revulsion.

The memory of walls closing in around me made me panic. Her tears traumatized me in ways my young mind couldn’t begin to understand.

I closed my eyes, even though I shouldn’t.

I tried to breathe.

Tried to ignore the girl’s pain.

I was terrified it would spread. I couldn’t go there. Not again.

Soft whispers had me opening my eyes again. If Mom saw me, not paying attention, I’d be in trouble.

Pastor Carter put his hand on the girl’s shoulder and she visibly flinched away from his touch. “I don’t want to be here, Dad,” the girl wailed.

Then Pastor turned my way and beckoned with his hand. “Sara, come here please.”

I puffed my chest up with pride at being bidden. Stafford, who stood beside me, glowered in annoyance and I had to suppress the self-satisfied laugh that threatened to explode out of me. Stafford was irritating and way too full of himself. There weren’t many kids my age at The Retreat, so we tended to stick together in our small, little pack. Whether we liked each other or not. I had no true friends in The Gathering. But I didn’t need them. Friendship wasn’t important. Family is what counted. And even though we didn’t necessarily like each other, we were joined together. Anyway, I needed to focus on things that mattered.

I worked hard to forget the time when I didn’t want to be with The Gathering. It had only been a few years before when I hated every moment of living in the woods with strangers. I saw too much of those long repressed feelings in the girl. But instead of despising her for the very weaknesses I had gotten rid of, instead it made me love her already.

I hurried to the group huddled together. Toward the girl with the tear soaked face.

“Sara, this is Anne Landes. She and her father, Vince, have just arrived. Anne, this is Sara Bishop, she’s been here since she was eight. You girls are the same age.” Pastor smiled at me. He smiled at Anne, who was still crying, eyeing me warily.

This tiny girl was thirteen? She seemed so much younger than me. Maybe it was the way snot dripped from her nose that made her look like she was ten.

“Sara, say hello,” my mom prompted, as if I needed the reminder of how to act. I tried not to bristle indignantly. My manners were impeccable.

But I did as I was told. I would never defy my mom. Certainly not in front of our family. I bowed my head slightly, a sign of respect that the girl had in no way earned yet. I watched Anne, trying to make eye contact, but she ignored me, turning her face into her father’s arm.

“I’m sorry about Anne. She’s a bit overwhelmed,” her father explained and I could hear his embarrassment at her behavior, which irritated me. Her father shouldn’t be embarrassed. He should be comforting his daughter. That’s what a parent should do.

I looked at my own parent and felt…nothing. She stood so close to Pastor Carter that she was practically pressed against him. Her hand on his arm as if she belonged there. She smiled at me as well. The kind of smile she only gave me in front of Pastor. The insincere kind.

“Hi Anne,” I said softly.

Anne sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and finally looking my way. “Hi,” she muttered. She lifted her chin slightly. A small measure of defiance that I liked. But I also knew she’d learn there was no place for that here.

“Daddy, I want to leave,” Anne said again, louder this time. Shrill—close to hysteria.

Pastor Carter reached out, wrapping his large hand around Anne’s much smaller one. He forcibly wrenched her away from her father. Pulling her with a viciousness that surprised me and startled Anne enough that she stopped crying.

With heavy hands on her shoulders, Pastor all but pushed her towards me. Anne stumbled, her scuffed sneaker catching on a floor board. I caught her before she fell.

“It’s okay,” I whispered before letting go. “I promise, it’s okay.”

Anne’s eyes met mine then and she clung to me in the way she had clung to her father only minutes before. In that moment, her allegiance shifted. She no longer looked to her father to keep her safe. I knew that job was mine alone.

Anne looped her arm with mine in an unspoken act of true friendship. “We need to make sure Minnie doesn’t scare them off.” She giggled and pulled me towards the newest arrivals.

I shook off my mood and plastered the best of smiles on my face. “You’re right. Come on.”

“You should be wearing white. Didn’t anyone tell you that?” I heard Minnie say as we walked closer. She plucked at David’s sleeve and he immediately recoiled.

“No, we weren’t informed there was a dress code,” Bastian deadpanned, angling his body so that he stood between his brother and the too touchy Minnie.

“Good morning, David,” I said, addressing the older man first. I walked around Bastian so that I could see his brother better. David looked at me and gave me what seemed to be a genuine smile. I tried not to flinch as I truly looked at him for the first time.

It was hard to look at a face that had obviously seen too much.

His blue eyes, the same color as Bastian’s, were heavy lidded and sunken into his face. Dark circles seemed to be tattooed on his skin.

“Good morning, Sara,” he replied, his voice raspy as if he were a former a smoker.

Bastian turned towards us, clearly ready to jump in if necessary, but Minnie said something that pulled his attention away from us. I felt a little better away from the laser focus of his hawkish gaze.

I sat down on the ground and patted the grass beside me, indicating David should sit too. He slowly lowered himself, his knees almost buckling as he sank downward. Anne joined us, quiet and comforting.

“How are you settling in?” I asked, chancing a look at Bastian again. Minnie was talking his ear off and he seemed to be having a hard time breaking away. His tension was obvious. Stafford, Caitlyn, and Bobbie had already walked off—their attention fickle. I turned to David, finding his demeanor easier than his brother’s barely restrained antagonism.

I noted the way David pressed his hands together. His knuckles white. He looked at me. Briefly. As if it pained him to do so. “Fine, thank you,” he answered shortly.

“Have you met many of the others?” Anne asked, her voice benign. Naturally soothing. David looked up at her, as if compelled by the sound of her voice.

“Not really. Pastor thought it would be better to give us time before we were…introduced.” His fingers squeezed together so tightly I was sure the circulation must be cut off.

Anne nodded. “Pastor is a smart man. He recognizes what each of us needs and helps us get it. He’s such a spiritual person and I hope one day to reach that sort of awareness.”

David watched Anne as she spoke. Closely. His haunted eyes never leaving her face. “I first heard him speak in a video on YouTube. Someone had recorded a prayer session from a few years ago and hearing him talk I knew that he was someone who could help.”

Anne picked a small, yellow flower and twirled it between her fingers. “We’re all here to help, David. We’re one big family. You just have to open your heart. You have to let people in. We can help you on your path. I can help you.” She bowed her head as if embarrassed for some reason. She dropped the flower and let out a nervous chuckle and then turned to me. “Right, Sara?”

I gave her a confused look but murmured my agreement.

“All of our journeys are connected,” I explained but David didn’t seem to be paying me any attention. I watched as he picked up the small, wilted buttercup Anne had plucked and held it in his tightly closed fist before putting it in his pocket.

“Brothers and sisters, please find a place to get comfortable.” Pastor Carter walked into the clearing and everyone immediately did as they were instructed. Anne and I both reclined onto our backs. After a few moments David did the same.

“What are we doing?” I heard Bastian ask. There was a rush of air as he settled down beside me, his arm brushing mine as he sank onto the grass.

“Shh,” I whispered, closing my eyes. Listening to the wind. The birds chirping. The soft, muffled movements as those closest to me situated themselves.

“I don’t get it. Is it nap time?” Bastian muttered, his voice too loud.

I opened my eyes and turned my head so I was looking at him. He was propped up on his elbows, seeming confused.

“This is Daily Devotional. Has no one told you about it?”

Pastor Carter began weaving his way through the prostrate forms of his followers, leaning down to touch each on the forehead, whispering a soft prayer only for them. I could barely hear his footsteps. He walked as if on water. Like the Messiah reborn.

“Maybe. I don’t really remember. There’s a lot of crap to digest.” Bastian watched Pastor closely. I watched Bastian closely. He wasn’t hard to read. I could see his disbelief. His open mockery. He should work on hiding that better.

“It’s not crap,” I spat out in an angry whisper. “Just lie down and close your eyes. Pray to God. Think of the things you want to change. Think of where you want your path to lead you. This is time for reflection.”

Bastian looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Reflection, huh?”

“Yes, now be quiet,” I hissed.

“You simply have to lie down, Bastian. Think only of your hopes. Your fears. The things you regret. The things that give you hope. This is a time for you to focus your energy and move towards your future,” Pastor Carter explained, appearing beside us.

I instantly closed my eyes, doing what I was supposed to.

“How long are we supposed to reflect?”

“As long as you need to. Most of my children spend a few hours. Some longer. That’s entirely up to you. But you need to respect everyone else’s time. And that means being silent. No talking. No sound of any sort.” Pastor Carter was stern. As if speaking to a misbehaving child.

“What if I don’t want to lie here for hours?”

I sat up suddenly and glared at Bastian. “Just lie there and pray!” I hadn’t realized I was yelling until I saw Anne and David staring at me. Everyone else was looking at me as well. Caitlyn’s mouth gaped open in shock. I saw my mother’s severe disapproval. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Pastor put a hand on my forehead and I closed my eyes again, needing to relax. To be calm. It’s what I knew I had to do. I had to expunge negative emotion. I had to replace anger and hostility with warmth and happiness. With contentment.

It hurt.

But joy was always tinged with pain.

“Be silent, Sara. The only voice you should hear is God’s.” Pastor Carter sounded reproachful. As if I had displeased him. I felt horrible. I didn’t like doing things wrong. I was meant to be an example.

I tried to put Bastian out of my mind. I listened to the sound of people breathing. A collective breath that any other day would have soothed me.

But today all I could focus on was Bastian as he moved on the grass. The frustrated sigh that seemed to echo in my ears.

“Close your eyes, Bastian. Think about why you’re here. What you hope to achieve. What this means to David. Think about him. Why is he here?” There was a note of something in Pastor Carter’s voice that made my breathing hitch. Something…menacing?

I peeked at Bastian, lying in the grass beside me. Only a foot between us. His fingers digging into the dirt. His mouth a hard line. His eyes open, staring back at the man who stood over him.

But this time he didn’t speak. He didn’t question. He simply lowered his eyelids, relaxed his body. Spread his hands out on the earth beneath him. And he let out a slow, almost anguished breath.

And it was in that release of air that I was able to find my own calm.

But in the hours of silent reflection, I didn’t think much about my own path or purpose. I found myself listening to the steady inhales and exhales of those around me. Particularly the deepened breathing of our newest arrival.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It felt so simple. To breathe with him. To lie in the grass beside him.

So, so simple.

Yet it wasn’t.

Far from it.

His presence brought a hurricane.