Chapter 1

Chapter One

Mistakes shouldn’t define a person’s life, but for Lilith Kenny, they did.

The thought tumbled through her mind as she attempted to lose herself in the menial task of pulling weeds. Cutting off dead branches. Inspecting the grown vegetables to ensure no bugs munched on them. Anything was better than remembering where she now lived.

“Sister, why are you ruining those plants? There’s nothing wrong with them.”

At the next plot over, one of the women had her hands on her hips and a look of disapproval on her face. Lilith had no idea what her name was. All the women were referred to as sister. It was a way to keep them all equal, so Staunton Rello had proclaimed. Of course, the men in The Hopeful Sunshine cult were allowed to use their given names.

Did any of the women who had been there for years even remember the names they were given at birth?

How the heck had she ended up in this place?

She was thirty years old, and she’d spent a cumulative total of three of those years not living under the rule of some egotistical bastard. Although she didn’t really count the first two years of her life as being free, when she needed her parents to survive.

One year.

All she’d had was one year to breathe the same air as people who could do what they wanted. When they wanted. Learn what they wanted, and she’d spent all that time soaking up as much information as she could. It had been glorious. And she’d been able to do it all without the threat of being punished. All without being used as a modern-day servant with no pay—like she was being treated now. There was nothing hopeful about The Hopeful Sunshine.

“Sister? Did you hear me?”

Lilith plastered a smile on her face. “Sorry, Sister. As for what I was doing, I was cutting away dead branches to encourage growth.”

“Hmph. Didn’t look like it. Looked like you were ripping them out of the ground. You know we need them. You’re trying to sabotage us.”

The other woman’s hostility was unexpected. Nothing Lilith had done would suggest she was ripping the plants up. If she really bothered to look, she’d see that the pile of dead twigs at Lilith’s feet didn’t have roots attached to them.

“Is Sister right? Are you sabotaging us?” A deep male voice sounded behind Lilith, and she turned to find one of the elders, Micah, standing near the edge of her plot. He hadn’t been there when the other woman had called out to her, but he was there now.

Clearly, this Sister was looking at getting Lilith into trouble. Great, that was all she needed.

“No, Sir Micah, you can come check and see what I’m doing. You won’t find any uprooted plants at all. It was as I told Sister.”

That was another thing about this hellhole. All the elders were to be addressed as “Sir” and then their name. Did they think they were granted a knighthood from the King of England? Something she’d found out about during her one year of freedom was the British Royal Family. The dramas surrounding them all, and the honors that were granted to various people.

The men here demanded they be called “Sir” because it was a power play. A way to let the women and girls know that they were at the bottom of the totem pole. That their thoughts and voices weren’t worth anything. Even the boys, no matter their age, had the right to use that moniker. The women were broken up into various groups with different roles within the cult. Lilith’s group maintained the gardens, which included the vegetables and fruits, which fed the occupants of the compound, a group she was relieved to be part of. Some of the others would have done things she wouldn’t be comfortable with—all because a man believed he was greater than any other person who convinced others to believe his every word.

“This defiance is unacceptable!” Micah grabbed her arm and manhandled her away from her wishful thoughts and little plot, but not before Lilith caught a fake look of sorrow on the woman’s face who’d called her out.

That bitch! Why had she set her up? Lilith kept her interactions with the other women polite. She didn’t linger after they were granted their tiny meals. She didn’t gossip—although there wasn’t much to gossip about.

Was that the problem? Was she annoyed that Lilith was ignoring her and all the other women? Although, wasn’t that what they wanted? For Lilith to ignore them?

Heck, nothing she did ever pleased anyone. Perhaps this was her punishment for being such a disappointment. Destined to live forever in a cult. That little bit of freedom she’d tasted had been a mistake, and the universe—or God, or karma, or fate—had needed to correct their mistake, therefore guiding her to this place.

Lilith fought to yank her arm out of Micah’s hold, but he only tightened his grip until his fingers dug in so deep. She’d probably end up with a bruise the shape of his hand. “I did nothing wrong. This is a mistake.”

Abruptly, Micah stopped and slapped her hard across the face. So hard that her head whipped to the right, and she was sure she strained her neck muscles. His action so unexpected and surprising. That wasn’t how things were done around here. “You do not speak unless you are spoken to! The Great Sir Staunton will punish you for this insolence.”

The Great Sir Staunton.

What an absolute joke. There was nothing great about him. The fact that everyone had to call him that was the biggest joke of all.

It amazed her how delusional people were that they believed this rubbish. Couldn’t they see that nothing Staunton said was how life really was? Did they forget all they’d known before they’d gotten sucked into his rhetoric?

Actually, people didn’t have to be delusional or forget what they learned to believe. They just had to be so desperate to be liked. Appreciated. Loved and to belong to something or someone, to believe anything they’re told. It shamed her to say her parents had been like that. All it had taken was for her to be out and away from Freedom and Love to know that how she’d grown up wasn’t the way life was meant to be.

The door to the big log house was opened, and Micah said nothing to the person who had obviously seen their approach as he dragged her in. This wasn’t the first time Lilith had been in the house. It was, after all, the place where she’d had her “interview.” Then she’d been in awe of the beautiful vaulted ceilings with their large wooden beams. The soft rug at the entrance. The stillness that permeated the air.

Now she didn’t see it or feel it. It was just another place she would rather not be in.

Micah knocked on a door, far more quietly than she thought he would. She imagined he would pound it down, considering how angry he had been with her. Then again, this was Staunton’s office, so their erstwhile leader probably wouldn’t tolerate that sort of behavior, even from the men of the group, the same species who Staunton hounded into the women and girls were to be revered.

“Sir Micah, is there a problem?” Staunton’s voice was calm, as if a woman being dragged into his office was a daily occurrence. It probably was.

“Yes, The Great Sir Staunton, this sister here”—he shoved her forward, causing her to almost fall, but Micah kept her upright—“is destroying the plants she’s been tasked to look after. She is uprooting perfectly healthy ones that provide us with our nourishment.”

Lilith wanted to protest loudly. Oh, how she wanted to, but she bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from shouting that Micah was lying. That he wouldn’t know what a healthy plant looked like because he was too good to work in the garden. It was much safer to scream the words internally rather than out loud.

“You may leave, Micah. I will deal with this myself.”

“What? But?—”

“You dare to question me, Micah? Are you quite sure you wish to do that?” Staunton’s voice was silky smooth, but there was no mistaking the venom in it. The unspoken threat of what could happen should Micah argue further.

“No, The Great Sir Staunton, my apologies. I will take my leave.”

Micah gave her upper arm another tight squeeze before he headed out of the office, leaving her alone with Staunton and his two bodyguards, who stood in the corners, looking more like statues than real men.

She willed herself not to move. Not to give anything away to suggest that she was worried about being here alone with Staunton. She glanced at the bodyguards, but their faces remained impassive—not getting any help from them. Not that she expected to.

Lilith lifted her chin in a silent “bring it on” message. Staunton would expect her to keep her eyes lowered and shoulders hunched, but she’d done that once before. She wasn’t doing it again.

“You look like you have something to say. Perhaps you’d like to explain why Sir Micah brought you here?” Staunton asked, as if they conversed every day, but he was anything but relaxed about having her in his office.

“Nope. I’ve got nothing to say.”

His fingers curled into fists at her failure to use his full and correct title when she addressed him—a deliberate move on her part. She was done. Done with it all.

“You dare disrespect me like this?” Staunton’s voice pitched a little louder than he normally spoke.

In that moment, everything in Lilith stilled. Her rampant thoughts. Her rapidly beating heart settled into a slow rhythm. She’d already pushed the envelope. Why not push it a bit further?

Lilith had nothing to lose. Had no idea if her life would end right this moment, or if she would be punished so severely, she wished she were dead. But whatever happened, she would face it head on because death surely had to be better than the hell life she was living.

“Yes, I do.”