Heart Thief - Ker Dukey Page 0,3
missing morning scripture. Like I need to read that book any more times. I can recite it from memory.
I pass my mother’s room, finding the door ajar with her sitting on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. Rapping my hand gently on the wood panel, I enter and drop to the floor before her. “Mama?”
Grasping her hands in mine, sorrow grips my heart when I see the tears in her eyes. “I’m okay, my sweet girl.”
She’s not. There’s a fresh bruise coloring the skin beneath her eye.
“What happened, Mama?”
She sniffles, pulling her hands free and swiping at her eyes.
“Nothing.” She chuckles nervously. “I just mentioned your sister in front of your father. You understand how he gets.”
He’s the devil.
“Father wants me to pray for Clara’s soul,” I croak.
Her sniffles bring tears to my own eyes.
“He was raised here, Mona. This life is all he’s ever known.”
“And you?” I question, confused by her implication.
“I was too, but I’ve seen the world beyond our shores.”
A gasp wisps from my lungs. My eyes widen as tears threaten to roll down my cheeks. “I was sent by my family on a mission to recruit, teach people about repenting and believing. When your grandfather still led, it was what we did to bring God into the hearts of potential people of light. The true believers became one of us.”
“Is it really as bad as Father portrays it to be? Evil?”
“It’s very different from how we live. Corrupt and sinful.”
A wound opens in my chest, expanding with every thought of Clara out there alone. “Should we not go find her?”
“What if she’s not looking to be found? Would you want her coming home if she didn’t want to?”
“No. I suppose not.”
“Your father will forgive her if she chooses to return, but it has to be her choice.” She grasps my hands with a squeeze, but I know he won’t forgive her. He plans to cleanse her. Images of past cleansings flicker through my mind. An ache builds in my stomach.
“Please don’t condemn me to live without both my daughters,” she blurts.
“Wha-at?”
“You are both so close, I believe one day she’ll return for you. Promise me you won’t leave me too.”
Is that not my choice? “Mama.”
“Please,” she pleads, her grip turning painful.
Please, Mama, don’t force me stay. I want to scream, but I nod my head instead. “Okay. I promise.” The hole inside me caves in, swallowing me entirely.
Four
Mona
Rain dancing against the house acts as white noise, like I fell asleep with the radio on and woke to the station losing the signal, the buzzing relentless.
Rain usually soothes me, but this is different. There’s an echo in the fallen torrent. Clara.
Her voice grows with the strength of the storm building outside. Her words ricocheting all around. “Mona.”
Blood races through my veins, causing my heart to stammer.
Throwing back the covers, I leap from the bed and go to the window, forcing it up. The wood is old and in need of repair. The creaking makes my stomach ache. What if Daddy hears and thinks I’m sneaking out like her?
I swivel my head toward the door and listen for sounds of our parents. There’s just the rushing of rain and Clara’s voice dancing through the air, penetrating my ears. “Mona.” Her gentle tone whispers through the trees, beckoning me into their embrace.
Da-dum.
The wind howls, tossing my hair around as I climb through the small open space. Mud, thick and damp, squelches through my toes as I find purchase on the wet grass.
Da-dum.
I’ve never snuck out in a storm before, but the pull of my sister’s call is like a string inside my belly tugging me forward.
“Mona…”
I’m coming, Clara. Wait for me, I’m coming.
My feet stumble through the brush, my eyes seeking out my sister. “Clara,” I call back, “where are you?”
Only silence.
Night cloaks the sky, claiming the day and stealing my vision. It’s too dark. “Clara?” I repeat, fear building in my stomach. “Where are you?”
“Mona.” Her hushed murmur hums all around me. My feet begin moving faster, picking up speed through the shadows of the forest. Branches whip and tug at my clothes and flesh like hunters trying to capture their prey. Dark fog unfurls through the clearing, swallowing everything in its wake.
“Clara!” I cry out.
“Mona, help me.” Her scream cracks through the sky like thunder.
My fists curl. I can do this. Facing the thickening fog, I square my shoulders and ready myself. Bending a knee and arching my heel, I take off running