Rising Darkness (12 page)

When we got to the top of the stairs, Jonathon and Zac helped me to my room. Once inside, Jonathon asked if I wanted to change out of my clothes.

“Yes. I have some sweats in the drawer.” I looked at the men. “You can go now. I don't need help changing clothes.”

“I'm going to stick with you for a while,” Jonathon said. “I'll wait out in the hall.”

I sighed. “Okay.” I turned my attention to Zac. “Could you go downstairs and wait for my hot chocolate? I don't trust Esther on those stairs.”

“Sure. I'll be back in a minute.” He left the room. Jonathon was quiet as I gathered my clothes.

“I need to make a trip to the bathroom,” I told him. “I'll just change in there.”

“Do you need help getting down the hall?”

“It's just a few steps away. I'll be fine.”

“Okay. I'll wait for you here.”

“Thanks, Jonathon. This certainly hasn't been one of my better days.”

He smiled. “I think that's an understatement.”

The pain pills were making me groggy, but I walked slowly to the bathroom on my own. I changed my clothes and then went back to my room. Jonathon was standing next to the bed, my purse lying open on top of the quilt. He held my wallet in his hands. It was flipped open.

“What are you doing?” I said sharply. “Put that down.”

When he finally looked at me, I recognized the expression on his face. I'd seen it before.

“I told you I'd only met one other person with amber eyes,” he said in a tight, controlled voice. “In Pastor Troyer's
office, when you were lying on his couch, I began to notice other similarities to the girl I used to know, and I decided I had to know the truth. You may have changed on the outside, but you're still a liar and a manipulator, aren't you, Sophie?”

“Here's your hot chocolate.”

I jumped involuntarily at the sound of Zac's voice. He'd been so quiet I hadn't heard him enter the room. I walked over to the small stool Jonathon had put next to the bed so I could climb in.

“I'll take that,” Jonathon said, sounding tense. “We need a few minutes, Zac. Do you mind?”

Zac looked back and forth between us. “I—I guess not,” he said, handing the cup to Jonathon. He nervously cleared his throat and looked at me, confusion on his face. “I'll be downstairs if you need me.”

“Thank you. I'll be fine.”

Jonathon didn't say anything as Zac left the room. We could hear his steps going down the stairs. I climbed up on the bed, put the pillows behind my back, and pulled the covers over myself. Try as I might, I couldn't think of anything to say. My trip to Sanctuary had come to an end. There was
no way I would be able to stay here now. I'd have to go home a failure. Something I was used to.

Jonathon threw my wallet on the bed next to me. “I need you to explain what you're doing here. Did you come to Sanctuary to find me?”

My mouth dropped open. “Of course not. I had no idea you were here.”

“Then what's going on?”

“I'll tell you everything, but not right now. I took some pain pills, and I'm so sleepy . . .”

“Give me the short version. Then when you're feeling better we'll talk more.”

I quickly ran through my reason for being in Sanctuary. My meeting with Tom and my need to find Terrance Chase for a story. “And that's it. I'm not here to hurt anyone, or to cause trouble. I'm trying to track down a murderer. Someone you shouldn't want hiding out in this town. After I find him, I'll be gone.”

“You just want the story. You don't care about this town any more than you cared about Kingdom.”

Maybe it was the pills, but tears filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. “That's not fair. I cared enough to leave. I know what I did was wrong . . .”

“You burned down our church,” Jonathon stated emphatically. “You could have killed someone. I had to run inside to save Pastor Mendenhall. That's not some kind of youthful stunt, Sophie. It could have been a terrible tragedy.”

“I know that,” I said, the words slurring. “Tom told me to do it . . .”

“You can't blame Tom for everything you did.”

“I'm not. It was my fault. I wrote a letter to Pastor Mendenhall and told him what I'd done. I asked for forgiveness, and I left town so I wouldn't hurt anyone else.” I wiped tears from my face with the back of my hand. “I've changed, Jonathon. I'm in college, working toward a degree. I'm educating myself, and I've been trying to make something out of my life. I'm not the same person.”

He shook his head. “How can you say that? You're here under false pretenses. You're lying to everyone, including Esther.”

“Esther knows the truth.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You told her?”

“No. Turns out Clara Byler couldn't have children. My story fell apart.”

He stared at me through narrowed eyes. “Why didn't Esther throw you out?”

I couldn't hold back a sob. “Because she thinks God sent me here for a reason. She wants to give me a chance.”

“And do you think God sent you here, Sophie?”

“No. I told you, I don't believe in God. I've rejected the idea of a God who allows children to be abused and abandoned. God never showed me any love. I prayed and prayed for help. None came. Now I trust myself. No one else.”

Although I understood my last words, I knew they were garbled. I was barely conscious. “I—I have to sleep. I'm sorry. I know you hate me, but I can't help it. If it makes you feel any better, I hate myself, too.”

I pulled my pillows down and collapsed into them. As I drifted off, I thought I felt someone stroke my hair.

When I woke up, the room was dark except for a nightlight plugged into the wall by the bed. Although it was hard to see, I leaned over to check the clock on the nightstand. It was only nine o'clock at night. Even so, Esther would be in bed by now. I needed to go to the bathroom, and I was hungry, but there wasn't anyone here to help me. I'd have to take care of myself—as usual. I sat up in bed and swung my legs over the side.

“You're awake.”

The voice from the darkness made me cry out. I looked over toward the fainting couch and saw Jonathon sitting there.

“You scared me to death.” I gasped for breath.

“Sorry.” He stood up and walked toward me. “I felt someone should be with you. Make sure you're okay.”

“I'm fine. Except for the mild heart attack you just gave me. I thought someone was after me again.” Although I tried to calm myself down, my voice trembled.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“What I
need
to do is go to the bathroom and get something to eat.”

“How does your head feel?”

I hadn't even thought about it. “It's better,” I said with relief. I reached up and touched the spot where I'd been hit. It was still tender, but the swelling had gone down quite a bit. “Seems the patient will live. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Don't be stupid,” Jonathon said sharply. “Go to the bathroom. I'll wait here.”

He came over and pushed the stool next to the bed. I put my feet on it and started to step down, but I suddenly lost my balance. Before I fell, Jonathon reached out and caught
me, wrapping his arms around me. Surprised, I looked up into his face. I saw something in his eyes that made my breath quicken, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. Chalk it up to my imagination. I planted my feet firmly on the floor, and he let me go.

“Sorry . . . I . . .” My mind was blank, and I fled the room. When I reached the bathroom, I closed the door and leaned against it. I could still feel his arms around me. It was something I'd dreamed of for so long. An old, familiar ache sprang to life inside, but I pushed it away.

“Stop it, you idiot,” I scolded myself softly. “You're not going to make a fool of yourself again. Not ever again.”

Before I went back to the bedroom, I checked my image in the mirror. There were dark circles under my eyes, and my hair looked awful. Thankfully, I'd left my makeup bag in the bathroom, so I took a few minutes to brush my hair and fix my face. When I was done, I looked more like myself, not the scared and confused kid Jonathon had known in Kingdom.

I tried to focus on my investigation. Would I have to leave town? My only chance was to convince Jonathon to let me finish my business in Sanctuary. Although I'd lost my notes, I had the names of most of the men who were most likely to be Chase on my laptop and stashed under my mattress. I wanted to make one more trip to the church to go through the last book. I needed to see if there were any more single men who'd left town. Then my list would be complete. It was clear someone didn't want me here. First the note and now the attack in the basement. But did it have anything to do with Terrance Chase? I still wasn't sure.

I took several deep breaths, trying to control my shattered nerves. I attempted to whisper my affirmations, but once again, they seemed powerless. In fact, I felt as if they mocked me. “It's in your head, dummy,” I said to myself. “You're intimidated by this town, and it's going to stop. Right now.”

I gathered my determination and willpower and headed back to my room. I had to keep reminding myself that I was no longer Sophie Wittenbauer, pathetic and uneducated. I was Sophie Bauer, a writer for the
St. Louis
Times
. I was here on a story, and that story came first. Any other feelings or concerns needed to be imprisoned in the dark place where I kept the rest of my emotions. I had a job to do, and I intended to do it.

When I reached my room, Jonathon was sitting in an overstuffed chair near the bed. “Do you want to go downstairs to eat, or would you like me to bring you something up here?”

“I can make myself something,” I said hurriedly. “I'm fine.”

“Okay, but I'm still going to hang around until I'm certain you're really okay.”

I shrugged. “Help yourself. Does Esther know you're here?”

“I told her you needed someone to watch you. Someone who could stay awake. She wanted to do it but was afraid she'd fall asleep.”

“Well, Zac is next door, you know. He could have checked on me.”

“I convinced her you'd be more comfortable with someone you knew.”

“You—you didn't tell her . . .”

“No. I didn't tell her about Kingdom. Just that I knew you and that I was at the church when you were . . . injured.”

“Okay. Good.” I was relieved. Sharing what had happened in Kingdom wasn't something I planned to do. Ever. Of course, now that Jonathon knew who I was, every time I looked at him, I was faced with the shame of my past.

I wanted to change my clothes, but I'd just be going back to bed, so I left my sweatpants and sweatshirt on. I pulled off my socks, found my flip-flops, and slid those on.

Jonathon was silent as he followed me downstairs to the kitchen. As I fumbled around in the refrigerator, he sat down at the kitchen table and watched me. His presence made me nervous, but I tried to ignore him. I found some chicken salad, so I made a sandwich. Then I sliced some strawberries and poured a glass of tea.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Esther made me dinner while you were sleeping.”

“Then you talked? About me?”

“Yes.”

I put my food and tea on the table and sat down next to him. “May I ask what you said about me?”

“Just that I knew you a long time ago. That you and I are from the same town. And that I never thought I'd see you again.”

I took a bite of chicken salad, chewed, and swallowed it. “You mean you
hoped
you'd never see me again.”

“No. To be honest, I've thought about you a lot since you left Kingdom. Prayed for you many times. A lot of people in Kingdom prayed for you, Sophie.”

“I find that hard to believe. I'm sure they were thrilled to see me go.”

“You need to give them more credit than that. People cared about you.”

I drank some tea. For some reason, my mouth was horribly dry and the tea was incredibly soothing. Probably the pills. “And what did you pray?”

Jonathon sighed. “I prayed that you would find your way. And that you would discover the path God has for you.”

I couldn't help but laugh. “I found my path, but God had nothing to do with it.”

To my surprise, he smiled. “So you think coming to Sanctuary and finding me was just . . . dumb luck?”

“I'm not feeling very lucky right now.”

“What do you mean?”

I took another bite of my sandwich and stared at him while I chewed. “Let's see,” I said after I swallowed. “I came here on a pretext to find an infamous thief and murderer. My cover story has been blown, I've been threatened, hit on the head, and I ran into you. I don't think you can call any of that
lucky
, do you?”

“Maybe not. It's almost like it was . . . planned.”

I grunted. “Please don't tell me you've bought into Esther's belief that I'm here for a reason, and before I leave, I'll understand it all.”

“Maybe.”

“Then you're as delusional as she is.”

“Sophie, your parents were . . . well, awful. Selfish, cruel, terrible people. As examples of God, they failed miserably. But you shouldn't judge God by them. It's something a lot
of people do, but people aren't perfect. Even when they call themselves Christians. They still have free will and can choose wrong things.”

His words made my blood boil. “I'm not judging God by them. I'm judging God by God. I prayed and prayed for help. All I got back was silence. Explain that to me.”

He hesitated a moment before responding. “That's not an easy question to answer. I've been asked it before. All I can tell you is that parents have authority over their children. Because of that, they have the ability to mistreat them. But that certainly isn't God's will. You keep saying God didn't help you, but you were never alone. A lot of people watched over you. I was one of them. And when you were ready to leave town, Lizzie Housler gave you money so you could get away.”

“Yes, she did.”

“Why don't you judge God by those people?” he asked gently. “Instead of by the parents who failed you?”

“God says He's our father,” I spat out, unable to control my anger. “The only father I've ever known abused me.” I pointed my finger at him. “In ways you don't know anything about. No one does.”

His eyes widened, and I was shocked to see them turn shiny with tears. “Sophie, you don't mean . . .”

“Yes, I do mean. So parents have authority over their children, huh? Do they have the authority to do . . . that?”