just as he had when he originally told her the story. This woman, she cared deeply for others, not just those she knew, but those she didn’t. Those who were long dead, their suffering ended, and thank God for that. His shoulders relaxed. It was the reason he trusted her, he realized. No person could carry that amount of compassion for people she’d never met and not have a loving heart. And though he wasn’t quite sure he deserved it, maybe she’d extend some of that understanding his way.
“When Hubert Bancroft formed the original guild, each man invited to take part also established a monopoly of trade in Farrow for their particular industry. That’s remained the case until today and because of it, Farrow is still small, even intimate you might say. Over the years, the guild has also successfully dominated local government and they exert enough control over the Farrow town council that it works to protect and maintain their interests.”
Her gaze slid away and a wrinkle formed between her brows. “Outsiders are unlikely to have success in Farrow and eventually move away.”
“The ones who infringe on a guild member’s business, yes. Farrow has grown some over the years, but the power structure remains the same. Membership in the guild is handed down through the generations, and those members run the businesses, hold places on the town council, and have their hands in every local election. Nothing happens in Farrow unless the guild says it does.”
“So that’s their purpose? To retain control of Farrow? It’s all about money and power?”
“Isn’t it always?”
She expelled a breath. “I . . . yes, I suppose it is.”
“The same group of families—ten remaining out of the original thirteen—has retained the wealth and control in that town for generations. It’s why it’s in their best interest to keep each other’s secrets, and the secrets of the members before them.”
“There’s a religious component too though, fraudulent as it might be.”
He nodded, considering all he knew, some he’d experienced, and others he’d ascertained. “The Guild hides behind religion, it always has, generation after generation in one form or another. In actuality, God has nothing to do with their practices, though they’ve convinced themselves He does. It took me some time to realize that.” He sighed, remembering when he’d first come upon that trunk hidden behind a portion of wall in the basement. The stories, the personal accounts from Taluta and Narcisa had helped him understand the true nature of evil. He’d had moments of deep discomfort regarding the things he’d been taught at Lilith House, but the indigenous women’s accounts had clarified for him right from wrong, helped him assess the kind of god he wanted to believe in versus the one being presented to him every day in the form of shame and mercilessness. Manipulation and religious artifice. Those writings had taught him to think critically.
In essence, and he didn’t think he thought this lightly, they had saved his soul.
“They use religion, but they believe in it too. Because of how Farrow operates, because of how it always has, in many ways it’s stayed stuck in the past. You might have felt that.” He only knew because, for a time, he’d gotten away. He’d had a firsthand view into the outside world. For the first time in his life, he’d been able to compare the way other people lived. Georgia and Mason had never experienced that. Sometimes he wondered if it was what made him different, made him question things that they didn’t. He’d suggested they all move away, leave Farrow behind forever and start lives somewhere else together. But they’d been resistant. They wanted revenge. And he’d told himself he did too, convinced himself of it. It had only taken one day in Scarlett’s presence for that “need” to begin to wither and crumble as new dreams, new desires, ones he’d never dared imagine, began to unfurl inside him like the budding of a fresh green leaf. Untouched. Seeking out the sun.
“Is there . . . in-breeding in Farrow?”
He paused. He’d questioned it too, seen what might be the consequences, though he couldn’t be sure. He’d wondered if one of the reasons the guild hadn’t already forced her out of town was because she was fresh blood. The thought sickened him. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t doubt it. Those families . . . they stick together, not just in secret-keeping, but in all kinds of ways.”
She flinched. “When you say they keep each other’s