Into the Light (11 page)

While working at the crime lab, I learned that the location of facial injuries was a surprisingly accurate indication of the mode of trauma. Muggings and domestic abuse—intimate partner violence—were most often associated with injuries like Elisa Ortiz’s. Injuries to the upper third of the face usually indicated damage inflicted by another person. Those injuries, though typically not life-threatening, were often accompanied by tissue trauma and nerve damage, which could vary from paralysis of the facial muscles to damage to the optic nerve. In some cases the nerve damage led to temporary or permanent loss of feeling and/or sight.

In most cases, the more severe the trauma, the closer the victim and assailant were thought to have been. Crimes of passion could yield horrendous trauma. However, since there wasn’t evidence that either Elisa or Emma were involved in an intimate relationship, and Elisa’s examination showed no evidence of sexual assault, police theorized that her injuries were from a mugging or a random act of violence.

The second most common cause of facial injuries in both men and women was automobile accidents. Those injuries differed from perpetrator-inflicted injuries in their location—car accidents most often inflicted damage to the lower half of the face. When the victim’s face collided with the steering wheel or dashboard, the typical injuries were fractured mandibles—broken jaws.

Elisa Ortiz’s most severe injuries were to her torso. The postmortem photographs showed a large hematoma with midsection distention. The autopsy had discovered severe internal hemorrhaging caused by a ruptured spleen and lacerated liver. The cause of death had been ruled cardiac arrest due to internal bleeding.

I topped off my glass of wine and ran a new Internet search. My stomach twisted. Perhaps it was due to the alcohol on an empty stomach, but I chose to blame the information on my screen. From what I gleaned, the human body was constructed to protect its fragile organs, so for the kind of trauma that Elisa had experienced, extreme blunt force trauma was needed. When these organs were injured and left untreated, a slow and painful death occurred. Some injuries, like a ruptured aorta, result in death rather quickly, but Elisa hadn’t been that fortunate. Her time of death had been estimated at ten to fifteen hours post-trauma.

Draining my glass, I backed up Tracy’s memory drive on my laptop and turned off my computer.

Why had someone done this to this woman, and what the hell happened to Emma?

CHAPTER 11

Sara

I didn’t need to hear Jacob’s voice to know he was the one who entered my room. I knew his footsteps against the tile and the unique way he opened the door. If those clues weren’t enough, after he entered, the faint scent of leather and musk, the manly aroma I’d learned to associate with him, broke through the antiseptic odor.

If I weren’t so hysterical, I’d have found my ability to perceive without sight fascinating, but I was, for a lack of a better word, hysterical. I couldn’t think or reason. I didn’t know what he’d do or say or what I could possibly do in return. Somehow I’d done something terrible. I just couldn’t remember.

Sister Lilith had spoken only a little about marriage. In that short time, she’d reinforced everything Jacob had said. Apparently it was the way we all lived in The Light. However, instead of going into detail regarding my role as a wife in The Light, she emphasized that I was the wife of an Assemblyman, and that because of that my behavior, meaning the incident, reflected poorly not only on Jacob but also on all the Assembly wives. She said that the other eleven women were appalled by my behavior, and the entire community was waiting for Father Gabriel’s decree. Banishment was still an option. If that was chosen, it would include Jacob. She said that though Jacob had the right to and responsibility for my correction, when my behavior represented so many, for the cohesiveness of the community, the members of The Light needed to witness Father Gabriel’s decree. Consequences were coming, not only from Jacob, but also from Father Gabriel. If God hadn’t chosen to punish me with my injuries, the other correction would’ve already been delivered.

None of that was said in front of Raquel.

During most of the
training
I’d been lulled into a false sense of security, sitting beside Raquel and listening intently as she discussed Father Gabriel’s teachings and the beliefs shared in The Light. I didn’t remember the things she discussed and many seemed foreign, yet occasionally something seemed familiar.

I didn’t nap, as Raquel had joked that I might. I paid attention and answered all Sister Lilith’s questions with a nod or shake of my head. I didn’t understand my motivation other than a new desire not to further embarrass Jacob.

When Raquel was called away to help with another patient, she asked Sister Lilith if she was about done. Sister Lilith said yes, but she wasn’t. Like a snake in the grass, she was waiting.

In my current state, Sister Lilith’s berating hit me hard. I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t have enough information. Technically I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but I didn’t know how to react. What upset me was Sister Lilith’s promise that correction was coming—correction for blatant insubordination. Then, as she was about to leave, she whispered her promise to return in the morning for more time alone.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but in the three days since I’d awoken, it seemed as though my true self had slipped further away. Each day, while I questioned my own identity, the answer became more clear. I was Sara Adams. Though I still wanted to understand the oddities of this strange world, more and more of me wanted to be the Sara Jacob expected me to be.

Maybe I was going crazy. I didn’t care anymore about the color of my hair or features of my face. I wanted to know my state of mind. How had I become someone who could be reduced to tears twice in two days? Not just tears, not salty drops of water gently gliding down my cheeks. No, I was crying ugly sobs that ached in my chest as my eyes and nose leaked profusely, covering not only my face but my pillow too.

“Sara?”

I was so lost in Sister Lilith’s words, I’d almost forgotten that Jacob was there. As the bed moved upward, I slowly turned his way. It wasn’t bravery that gave me the strength to face him, even though, according to Lilith, I should be turning toward his wrath. It was a combination of shame and duty. I’d failed him, and as his wife, I needed to learn my fate.

My temples ached as I tried to reason. Could I speak and ask him what had happened?

No. I couldn’t ask questions. I needed to wait for answers.

Oh, God!
The wait was worse than knowing my fate.

Silently Jacob lifted my chin as the bed rail lowered. Sitting with his leg touching my arm, he gently wiped my face, cleaning away the evidence of my second meltdown in two days. I’d expected punishment, yet in mere moments his silent support gave me strength. Taking a ragged breath, I shuddered, trying to process his conflicting reactions.

Instead of discipline, his large hands delivered tenderness. Instead of a cold wrath, his body against mine provided warmth. Strong and reserved, his voice flowed with compassion. “No one else is here; you may speak. What is it? Why are you crying?”

I gasped for air to replace the sobs. With a firm grip on my chin, he continued to wipe away new tears as I evaluated his actions against Sister Lilith’s words. They didn’t match.

Though I understood that I was completely at his mercy, something spoke to my heart. From the internal chaos I heard a voice. Speaking softly, it whispered,
Believe in yourself. You are stronger than this. Always stay true.

“Sara, don’t make me repeat myself. You’re upset. Part of my responsibility is helping you. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened. Does this have to do with Sister Lilith?”

Stay true
. . . I nodded.

“Let me hear you,” he reprimanded. “The Commission knows you’re speaking. I’ve asked for your speech to be restricted to only me for a while. I’ll soon learn if my petition was granted.” He paused. When I didn’t respond, he repeated himself, the second time firmer than the one before. “Sara, speak now.”

You are strong
. . . “I’m so confused.”

Jacob framed my cheeks and held my face close to his, allowing our noses to touch. He asked, “What happened? Why are you confused?”

“I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t remember what happened or what I did, but she said it was bad . . .” My voice faded.

Tilting my head forward, Jacob kissed my hair. “Listen to me.”

Nodding, I tried to gauge his response, but his voice was soft and gentle.

“It’s not Sister Lilith’s place to say that to you. You’re my responsibility. We’ll get through this together.”

“But because of the Assembly.” My phrases were interrupted by feeble attempts to breathe. “I’ve jeopardized your position, and she said I shamed all the Assembly wives.”

“She told you that?”

“Yes, and that we could be banished . . . I’m not even sure what that means, but all your hard work for the Assembly and Father Gabriel . . .” I gulped the oxygen that wouldn’t stay in my lungs. “Gone.”

“When she spoke, did you verbally respond to her?”

My head began moving from side to side as soon as his question began. “No. I haven’t spoken to anyone, anyone but you.”

“And she said all of this, in front of Raquel?”

“No, Raquel had to leave. Sister Lilith said it when we were alone.”

The hands that still held my face tensed, yet his voice remained composed and reassuring. “Of course she did. She didn’t know you were able to repeat it to me. Don’t worry. I was just with the Assembly, Commission, and Father Gabriel. I can honestly say I don’t think banishment is going to happen.”

I covered his hand with mine. “You’re upset. I feel it.”

He kissed my hair again. “I am upset, but not at you. Do you remember Sister Raquel’s husband?”

“I don’t remember anyone, but she talked about him. His name is Benjamin.”

“
Brother
Benjamin. All men deserve a title,” he corrected. “And yes, if you don’t remember him, you probably don’t remember that he’s also on the Assembly. Does Raquel seem ashamed of you?”

“No. No she doesn’t, but why? Why would Sister Lilith say that?”

He released my cheeks, and his finger came to my lips. “No questions.”

I lowered my face again and exhaled. “Jacob, I’m no good at this. I really can’t remember why I was in your truck, or why I had an accident. I can’t remember anything before three days ago. Except I feel like I’m not very good at following rules. I don’t understand why you married me, why I’m here, in The Light . . . I’m not an Assemblyman’s wife. You should just let them banish me before you end up losing all you’ve accomplished. I’m not who you think I am.” The sobs were gone, but an occasional tear continued to flow.

Jacob lifted my hands and kissed the knuckles. A faint smile crossed my lips as I remembered him doing the same thing earlier this morning. Wrapping both of my hands within his grasp, he began, “Sara Adams, you’re my wife.” He wasn’t saying it as he had when he wanted me to repeat after him. This time his tone made it more of a plea. “I married you and you married me. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’m honored to be on the Assembly, and I’m also honored to be your husband.” He leaned down until our foreheads touched. “This road won’t be easy, but never doubt where you belong or with whom. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I pray I never find out.

“We pledged our devotion to The Light and Father Gabriel, but before that, we pledged our love to one another. If I have to start from the beginning and recount our entire lives again to help you remember, I’ll do it. I’d do whatever I needed to do to help you remember us. Sara, I’d marry you again.” My chest ached with his declaration. “Sara, would you marry me?”

I couldn’t speak as his words soaked deeper and deeper into my heart. My tears were dry. There probably weren’t any left. However, the lump within my throat continued to grow, making my reply impossible. The man holding my hands and affirming his love overwhelmed me. Despite my shortcomings, he was declaring his devotion to me and our marriage. Finding myself lost in his grasp and surrounded by his masculine scent, I wondered if I deserved his steadfast love. I didn’t know.

And then I remembered the voice:
believe in yourself
. I would believe, and even if I hadn’t deserved Jacob’s love in the past, I would in the future. Because for the first time, a part of me wanted it.

“Sara?”

I lifted my unseeing eyes, leaving only a whisper between our lips. “Yes, Jacob, I believe I’d marry you again.”

With our hands still connected, our lips came together. His were firm and demanding, yet soft and accommodating. His kiss gave and took in equal portions, causing a firestorm to erupt deep within. My chest no longer cried from shame; instead my body screamed with desire. Without thinking, I willingly surrendered to the man with the fervent kiss. His kiss awakened me, my body, and my yearning. I had no doubt that this man filled my days and nights with earth-quaking passion. With only a kiss, I no longer wondered who my husband was in the bedroom; I knew. He was a man who conquered unapologetically and bestowed unsparingly.

When our lips parted, Jacob asked with a smile to his voice, “Are you better?”

“I am, thank you.” Calm warmth settled over me as I thought about what he’d said when he found me crying. He’d said that part of his responsibility was helping me. I still couldn’t wrap my head around all of it, but my life was becoming clearer. I was his. Yes, he’d correct me, but he’d also make things right and help me feel better. “Jacob?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t remember anything from our past, and I won’t lie to you and say I do. I get the feeling that isn’t who we are. I don’t think we lie to one another, do we?”

“Honesty is best.”

“And there’s something else,” I said.

“Go on.”

“I don’t like the idea of being corrected, but I love how protective you are. I remember you saying I can’t ask, so I won’t, but I hope that you’ll be patient with me.” I allowed my grin to grow. “Because I’m anxious to be your wife again, in every way. Your kiss . . .” The blood rushed to my cheeks. “Well, since we’re married, I hope I can say this. Your kiss makes me want more, makes me want to remember. I’m sorry for whatever happened. Thank you for standing by me.”

“I’ll always stand by you. I’ll also be patient, but I will correct you, even while I’m being patient. I told you, correction isn’t done out of anger, but for you. As a matter of fact, you just said something . . .”

I held my breath.

He went on, “You said you can’t
ask
. That’s not accurate. You may ask . . . actually, for many things you’re required to ask. I told you that you can’t
question
. There’s a difference.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“You may ask for my patience, for things you need or desire. Remember, we spoke about you asking for a drink of water.”

I remembered that.

“What you may not do is question. When I told you that I’d tell you what happened before the accident, but not now, you asked why. That’s questioning my statement, my word. Those truths, the reasons behind decrees, decisions, and yes, even corrections, do not need to be explained to you. As a woman you must accept them, as faith that your husband or any man of The Light has the right answers. I promise, I’ll never make a decision that will cause either of us harm.”

“But you’ll . . .” I purposely stopped, pressing my lips together, as my heart rate quickened.

“But I’ll what?”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to finish the sentence.”

“But I’ll . . .
correct you
?” he asked, properly completing my sentence.

I nodded.

“You’re right. Normally you wouldn’t be allowed to finish that sentence, or begin it, for that matter; however, to help you remember or at least understand, there’ll need to be a few exceptions, and the answer is yes. Yes, I’ll correct you when needed. Correction isn’t harm. It may include pain, but it’s not harm. Harm means physical or psychological damage. Why would I do that to my wife, the woman I’ve vowed to love and protect?”

I didn’t know. There seemed to be a lot of things that I didn’t know. Shrugging, I replied, “Thank you.” I reached up to his face. With healing fingertips, I roamed the features of the man I longed to remember. “For loving me and protecting me. Thank you for the patience and exceptions. I know they’re at your discretion, but knowing that you’ll grant them makes me happy. I really am trying to understand. I want to be the wife you married, the one you want.”