I’m cleaning up my apartment when the doorbell rings. It’s only been a few hours since he left, so it can’t be him, right? I look through the peephole and take a step back when I see those same striking eyes that haunt me every single time.

It’s really him. He’s come back … but why?

For a moment, I hesitate to even open the door. What if he’s come to snatch me away? I know he said he wouldn’t, but can I even trust him for his word? I told him to stay, and instead, he left without saying a single word. Even though I told myself not to care, it still hurt.

“Why did you come back?” I ask.

“We have to talk,” he says. “It’s important.”

My brows furrow. “It was important before too. What’s changed?”

“There’s something I haven’t told you.”

I knew it. I knew he was hiding something from me.

I unlock the safety chain and open the door, staring at him with my arms folded.

“I’m sorry I walked off like that,” he says. “I should’ve said something, but I was … overwhelmed.”

I raise my brows. “You? Overwhelmed?”

“I never considered the option of staying here …” he says, coming closer to grab my hand. “With you.”

“It hurt when you ran off like that, especially after—” I can’t even say the words without blushing.

“I know. And I apologize for making you feel that way,” he says, rubbing his lips together. “Can I come inside?”

I bite my lip and contemplate it for a second. “Only if you tell me everything you’ve been keeping a secret from me.”

He nods once, and it’s enough for me. I turn around and let him back in, closing the door shut behind us. He leans against the table, hands clutching the wood. “I didn’t want to tell you because you’re obviously in a bad situation right now, trying to live here all by yourself while pregnant too,” he says.

“Get to the point,” I say.

His nails dig into the wood. “Your mother … is still alive.”

My heart stops.

At that very moment, it feels as though the world has shifted on its axis and left me hanging. Like the earth itself is being swept right from underneath my feet. Like I can’t fucking breathe.

“She’s … alive?” I mutter, tears filling my eyes.

He turns his head and looks at me, then nods.

The tears flow freely now, and a smile can’t help but form on my lips. But it’s a bittersweet smile. “She’s alive. She’s alive … oh my God.” I cover my mouth with my hands.

Everything’s shaking, and my legs feel as though they’re about to give up.

Noah immediately grabs a chair and positions it behind me before I lose my balance.

“Careful there,” he says, holding me in place so I don’t topple over.

“No, no, it can’t be,” I mutter, hyperventilating.

“Calm down,” he says, blowing out breath after breath. “Calm your breathing. Like this. Think of the baby.” He keeps doing it until I’m less panicky and more in control over my emotions again. “There, you’ve got it.”

I shake my head. “But … she sacrificed herself for me in that fire. I thought she’d died,” I say. “And now I replace out she’s alive?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but—”

“How is she?” I interrupt.

He lowers his head, almost as though he’s unable to look at me. “She’s … not in a great condition.”

More tears start to flow. “I have to see her.”

“You know that’s not possible,” he says.

“I don’t care, I want to see her,” I say, delirious with the need to get back to my mother. “I have to see her before … before …” I can’t finish this sentence.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, and he grabs both my hands, clutching them tightly. “They’re taking care of her.”

“But she’s still there, in that soulless community! No one cares for the women there!” I shout.

“Yes, they do,” he says. “I’ve told them to take utmost care of her, to the best of their abilities.”

That means nothing. “We’ve got to get her out of there.”

“That’s impossible,” he says, shaking his head. “You know the trouble she went through to get you out of there, you think it’s gonna be easy to get her out?”

“No, but you’re a patriarch. You have privileges,” I reply, and I lean over to stare straight into his soul. “You’ve done it before, Noah. You can do it again.”

“Things have changed since your first disappearance. The community is much more heavily guarded now. And a fully grown adult doesn’t fit into a trunk either,” he says, smashing all my dreams to bits.

“There has to be something we can do,” I beg, on the verge of desperation. “I can’t leave her in there while she’s suffering and in pain.”

“The doctors have medication too. Our community gets supplies from this world occasionally,” he says. “We only use it in dire situations.”

“Oh, sure, like that’s going to make me feel better,” I scoff.

He just looks at me and pets my hand. He’s too sweet, too kind, and I hate it.

“Stop,” I say, pulling away. “I can’t. I just can’t deal with this.”

“It’s okay. I knew this would happen.”

A sudden rage overtakes me and spills out through my mouth.

“You knew she was alive, and you didn’t tell me,” I hiss. “Just like before, when you knew she was my mother, and you didn’t tell me. You … lied. Again.”

“I didn’t lie. I was going to tell you, eventually.”

“When?” I snort. “After I’d already come back with you?”

“When you were ready,” he says with the most earnest voice that pushes all my buttons. “Because you’re pregnant and under a lot of stress, and I didn’t want to worsen the situation.”

“Worsen the situation?” I jolt up from my seat. “You already did that the moment you and your partner showed up and stole away Emmy!”

He’s still trying to hold me. “Listen to me. I care about you more than anything, but you need to calm down. What good is panicking now? You can’t help your mother if you work yourself into a heart attack,” he growls. “Yes, I initially came to get you back, but I promised you I wouldn’t take you with me unless you said yes. And I’m sticking to that promise.”

“Why now? Out of all the times you could’ve chosen to help me, why choose my side now?” I know I sound angry, but I can’t help but question his motives.

He grabs my hand again. “Because my only goal has always been to change the community from the inside out. This is why I wanted you to experience the outside world, so you knew how twisted our community was,” he explains. “This is the truth. This isn’t something that happened over night, Natalie. I’ve been planning this for years. And when the time came, I went out looking for you. I was hoping you’d come search for me too, that you’d remember us.”

I swallow away the lump in my throat.

He squeezes my hands. “I just didn’t realize you’d forgotten about us … and how hard it would be to bring you back. To make you experience all the suffering our women go through.” He grabs a strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. “I needed you to experience all of the pain and all of the sorrow … so you would know exactly why it needed to be changed. None of the women there understand, but you do. You know both worlds. And only you can change it … with me.”

I shake my head. “I can’t. This … this is … so much to take.” I sit down on a chair before I lose my balance again. “You planned all of this?” I ask him straight up. “Even the suffering hut?”

He nods. “The suffering hut was the only way to make you see the real community. It is part of the initiation.” When he sees my angered face, he goes down on one knee in front of me. “If I had taken you straight to the Temple, lavished you with gifts and showered you with adoration … you wouldn’t have wanted to change a thing about the community.”

I lick my lips and let it all sink in for a moment. “You wanted me to become a martyr.”

This is the reason? This is the reason I went through all that shit? So that I could learn what it felt like to gain independence and then lose it?

It all feels so … hollow.

“My intention was never to hurt you, but for you to understand,” he says.

I frown and look away. I don’t know what to do with all of this information. It doesn’t make the pain sting any less or the memories go away. Everything I experienced is now lodged forever in my soul.

The Family changed me, and he can’t ever take that back. Being here, in my apartment, in the real world outside the community can’t fix that either. Nothing can.

And worst of all, I’m not merely deciding over my own fate and that of the people in the community, but I have to decide over my baby’s fate too … and it has no choice in the matter.

“I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but know that I always had this intention from day one. I’ve fought so hard, and it’s been difficult seeing you like that.”

“Then you should’ve thought of another plan,” I reply.

“You know those men,” he says, tilting my chin so he can gaze into my eyes. “You know the violence they’d use to silence the people. To keep the women subdued. But together, we can make a difference.”

Suddenly, someone bangs on the door, and I immediately get up in panic. “What was that?” I whisper.

Noah turns around and listens with his ear against the wood.

Another loud bang pulls him away.

The door swings open.

Men burst inside, one of them … the president himself.

My eyes widen as adrenaline courses through my veins, fear igniting my heart.

“Finally,” the president says, his voice bringing chills to my spine.

“What … what’s happening?” I mutter, as he grabs ahold of my arm. “Why are you here?”

“To get you, of course …” he scoffs, as though he replaces it odd I’d even ask that question. “And to get my unborn grandchild.”

My lips quiver. He knows. How? I never said a word. Did he replace the stick? Or was Noah the one to tell him?

“It took some time to replace where you were staying, but I’m glad we figured it out on time,” he says, turning his head toward Noah, who’s being held by two other elders. “Thanks for keeping her safe, Noah.”

My jaw drops as I focus on Noah. “You did this? You told him where I was?”

“I didn’t, I swear,” Noah says.

“Shut your mouth!” the president barks. “You’ve already done enough damage.” He nods at the elders. “Go.”

They drag Noah out of the apartment, who fights them tooth and nail. “Natalie! I swear, I didn’t say a word! You have to believe me! I don’t know how he found out!”

His words fade into the hallway as they take him away, and they fall on deaf ears.

He lied to me. He told me I would be safe, and that he wouldn’t take me away unless I said yes, but now the president himself has come to my apartment. How else would he have known about my address if it wasn’t for Noah?

My hands turn into fists as rage consumes me.

But when the president turns his head to face me, I feel weak again. Powerless, just like when I was still in the community, fighting for the same freedom I’m about to lose.

I look around, but there’s nothing—no knife, no scissors—that I can quickly snatch off the counter to use as a weapon.

“Don’t try anything,” the president warns. His tone alone makes me shiver. “You’re outnumbered. You’re not going to win this.” He holds out his hand. “Now come with me.”

When I don’t respond or give him my hand, he grabs my arm and gently tugs. It’s not much, but it still sways me to move. Not because of the way he pulls, but because of his penetrative stare that tells me everything I need to know.

I have no choice.

No options.

No way out.

And a cruel smile spreads on his lips. “We’re going home … daughter.”

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