Chapter 18

chapter

eighteen

Day three.

According to all of Ellie's research, it only took three days to indoctrinate someone into a new belief system. This was the turning point for most people—the moment they decided whether or not the cult was their cup of tea.

It definitely wasn't hers.

Or, thankfully, Cal's.

But Nico and Tyler? They were all in. At breakfast, they chattered about all the spiritual enlightenment they were experiencing and how they felt more connected than ever. They didn't seem to notice the weird shift in mood among the commune members. Everyone still had that air of manufactured tranquility and bright smiles, but they were all jumpier than usual.

The day wore on with a series of group activities—meditation, yoga, and lectures that Ellie could only describe as "spiritual peer pressure." All of it was designed to break down the walls they built around themselves. To make them belong.

Instead of lunch, they were ushered to yet another workshop on "spiritual enlightenment"—a term she had begun to associate with hours of monotonous chants and flowery language.

The members sat in pairs under the shade of a towering redwood grove. Ellie found herself with Serenity, while Cal was paired with a man called Equinox for a "heart-sharing" exercise.

Whatever that meant.

Serenity took Ellie's hands into hers and looked deeply into her eyes. "We are mirrors, reflecting each other's souls. I see kindness in you, Ellie. I see strength, too, but also so much fear and uncertainty."

Ellie nodded uncomfortably, unsure what she was supposed to say in return. Serenity seemed to be waiting for a response, but Hopeful's approach saved her from having to formulate one. He placed a hand on Equinox's shoulder, and the man instantly popped to his feet, making room for Hopeful to sit across from Cal. His gaze flickered to Ellie, and unease gnawed through her as he reached for Cal's hands.

"I see great courage in you, Cal," Hopeful began in a solemn tone, "and a relentless pursuit for justice. You seek to bring balance to an imbalanced world." His grip tightened enough to leave imprints on Cal's skin. "But you must take care and learn to pick your battles, or else your pursuit will end in disaster."

Cal's bland smile didn't falter, but Ellie could see the traces of worry in his eyes. And something else.

Fear.

Callum Holden was scared.

Hopeful released his hands and stood. Serenity and Equinox both bowed to him. He didn't bow back, and Serenity's smile slipped for a moment before she launched into a tangent about how their intentions shape their actions and how shared enlightenment could help them realize their true potential.

Ellie barely heard her words. Her attention was focused on Cal, who sat rigidly, his fingers flexing slowly. Hopeful's grip had left red marks on his hands, and he looked shaken, his usually steady gaze clouded with uncertainty.

At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to hug him.

The workshop continued with more intense eye-gazing and sharing of personal stories.

Ellie was on autopilot. Her responses were generic, her mind elsewhere. All the while, she kept stealing glances at Cal, whose face remained impassive. Occasionally, he would meet her gaze and force a smile that was a fraction of its usual wattage.

When it finally ended, Ellie was the first one up, practically bolting away from the grove. She waited anxiously outside until Cal emerged, his face a blank mask. Without a word, she reached for his hand and led him away from the gathering.

Only when they were far enough away did she turn to him. "You have to leave."

He scoffed. "I have to leave?"

"Yes. He knows who you are!"

Cal sucked in a sharp breath, then released it slowly before shaking his head. "No, he doesn't. He only knows what we told him—that Calvin Miller is a lawyer."

"He threatened you last night and again just now."

"He's trying to rattle me, but I think it has more to do with you than me. He's fascinated by you, Elle. He can't keep his eyes off you."

She had noticed that. Every time she turned around, she found him watching, his gaze tracking her every move. "He gives me the creeps."

"Which is why I have no fucking intention of leaving without you. I promised I'd help you find your sister and niece and I don't walk away from my promises."

The wind rustled through the trees around them, causing shadows to dance and flicker. It seemed nature itself held its breath, waiting for what would happen next.

He reached out and cupped her face, drawing her gaze back to his. "I won't leave you behind, Ellie. Not here. Not ever."

She looked at him, struck by the intensity in his voice. He was offering her his loyalty, his determination— himself, really. And yet she kept rejecting him, this sweet, protective, intelligent man.

Why did she keep doing it?

And why did he keep putting himself through it?

She stood on tiptoes and kissed him, an unexpected rush of emotion propelling her forward. His grip tightened on her face as he returned the kiss with fervor. It was a deep, lingering kiss that spoke volumes more than words could express.

A footstep crunched nearby, breaking the spell of the kiss, and they pulled apart. Vigil emerged from the trees and waved them over.

"Something you two need to see," he called, his face grim.

Ellie followed Cal toward him, her heart pounding in her chest. The kiss had been... It had felt so right. She glanced at Cal, catching his eye as they walked together. He gave her a small smile that made her stomach flutter.

Maybe kissing him had been a foolish move, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

Vigil led them deeper into the woods to a small clearing where an old shack stood. The place appeared decrepit and long abandoned, but what stood out front caught Ellie's attention—a black 1977 Trans Am with California plates.

Her heart leaped into her throat.

"This is where Hope and Hopeful lived when she first came here," Vigil said. "Back then, the commune was known as The Free People, and it was run by Shepherd—his father."

"Were you here back then?" Cal asked.

"No. None of us were, except for Remedy and Merit. They're his aunt and uncle."

Cal grunted. "A family affair. What did Merit say to Hopeful at dinner last night? It spooked him."

Vigil sighed. "I don't know. They kicked me out of the room. Hopeful doesn't trust me anymore, so I'm leaving tonight." He took a small ring of keys from his pants pocket. "But I wanted to give you these. They open every locked door in this place."

Ellie took the keys from Vigil and held them tight in her hand. They felt cold and heavy. "Thank you, Vigil."

Vigil gave her a slight nod. "My name's actually Trent."

She smiled back. "Thank you, Trent."

He turned to Cal. "I'll be at the bottom of the hill below the apple orchard at three a.m. I've got a ride waiting if you want to come."

"Thanks, but we have to find the girl first." Cal offered his hand, and the other man took it in a firm shake.

"I know, but the offer stands. If you find her, she's welcome to come, too. Good luck."

"We'll need it. Hey," Cal called as he started to turn away. When you get off the mountain, I'd appreciate one more favor. Could you contact Sheriff Ash Rawlings in Steam Valley and tell him what's going on up here?"

Vigil—Trent—gave a smile that bordered on mean. "With pleasure."

As he slipped away, Ellie's gaze returned to the Trans Am, and a cold dread seeped into her bones. She'd known her sister was here somewhere, but seeing the car in person made it all too real. The paint was faded and peeling. Leaves and a layer of dirt covered the hood from years of neglect. But it was undeniably the same car Hope had been last seen in.

Cal put his arm around her, pulling her close. "We're going to find her, Elle."

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the car's fading black paint. The past was coming back in a rush of dream-like images of Hope laughing and dancing.

Cal squeezed her shoulder gently. "Come on. Let's see what's inside."

The shack was small and musty. Decades worth of dust and cobwebs covered every surface, and the wooden floorboards creaked ominously under their weight.

In one corner stood an old, rusted stove, its door hanging unhinged. A battered couch occupied another side, its cushions sunken in from years of neglect. But it was the wall covered with old photos that drew Ellie's attention.

Cal picked a picture off the wall and studied it. She walked over and frowned at it. It was a group photo from years ago, the members of the commune all standing in front of the main building with broad smiles on their faces. But it wasn't the group that caught her attention. It was a figure at the center of the frame holding a baby. A young woman with wild, curly hair and a rebellious smile.

Hope.

There she was.

Alive.

Healthy.

Ellie reached out for the photo, needing to see it up close. Cal relinquished it without a word, but he watched her closely as she ran her fingers over the grainy image.

The tender way Hope held the baby contrasted starkly with the wild child she'd been back home. Was that what the commune offered her? A chance for peace? To start fresh and reinvent herself? But then, why had she never reached out and never let them know she was okay?

"This must be True." The baby, barely a year old and with dark curls like her mom, reached out a chubby hand toward the camera.

The man beside them, with his arms around them both, was Hopeful.

They all looked so happy, and Ellie couldn't reconcile this joyful version of her sister with the troubled woman her mom had told her about.

Her hand trembled slightly as she put the photo back on the wall. She needed answers, but the shack offered more questions than solutions.

She glanced at Cal, finding the same confusion mirrored in his eyes. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it lightly. It was a comforting gesture, one that kept her grounded amidst the disarray of emotions swirling inside her.

"Let's see what else we can find," he said. He began rifling through drawers while Ellie moved toward a small wooden desk tucked in the corner of the room.

She hesitated before opening the first drawer, torn between dread and anticipation. When she finally pulled it open, she found stacks of old letters and envelopes yellowed with age yet unopened. The return addresses varied—some from California, where they used to reside, and others from unfamiliar places across the country.

Unmailed letters?

Ellie dug deeper and pulled out a faded journal, its leather cover worn with age. Her heart pounding, she opened the front cover to reveal her sister's familiar scrawl. Her name—Hope Summers—was written on the inside cover, followed by a series of dates starting from the year she disappeared.

Ellie sat cross-legged on the floor and began to flip through the pages, her eyes skimming over mundane details about chores and meetings, slowly forming a picture of commune life. Cal joined her, but his attention focused on a box filled with old cassette tapes accompanied by a beat-up tape recorder.

"Elle," he said, holding up one of the tapes. He blew off the dust and squinted at the label. "This one says, ‘Hope's Testimony'. Want to give it a listen?"

Ellie nodded, her heart racing as Cal inserted the cassette into the tape recorder and pressed play. The room filled with static before Hope's voice rang out, clear and strong.

She should know the voice by heart, she thought. Hope's voice should be as familiar to her as Alexis's, but instead, it belonged to a stranger.

The recording was hopelessly staticky and occasionally skipped entire words, but Hope sounded like a woman who had found her purpose.

"I used to believe that I was worthless... that my life meant nothing. But now... I understand my worth. I am important here. I am loved. I have a family."

Ellie's heart clenched as tears welled in her eyes. She already had a family. Maybe her relationship with Mom hadn't been great, but she had two sisters who adored her. Didn't they mean anything to her? How could she forget about them so easily?

Cal's hand found hers, his warm presence a beacon of comfort in the midst of their grim discovery. She clung to him as Hope's recording played on, her heart aching for the sister she hadn't known.

As the tapes continued, Hope's stories became more disjointed, veering wildly from recounting the mundane - meals they ate, jobs assigned—to the bizarre rituals and Hopeful's sermons that summoned both adoration and apprehension.

She spoke of True's birth, her voice taking on a tender note that made Ellie's heart ache.

"She's my salvation," Hope said softly. "My chance to do something right."

The tape ended, and Cal popped it out of the recorder. He then randomly chose another one from the stack and slid it into the slot.

Hope's voice filled the room again, muffled but full of fervor. "... he showed me the truth. Freedom isn't about doing whatever we want. It's about living in harmony with our purpose. He knows the way to eternal peace, and I'm the key."

Ellie stiffened. "The key? What the hell does that mean?"

"Wait. Listen." He rewound it a little before pressing play again.

Hope's words filled the room once more, her voice shaking now. "He's dangerous… he's not what he pretends to?—"

The tape ended.

The silence in the room was deafening. Ellie stared at the tape recorder, her heart pounding in her chest.

He's dangerous...

What had happened to make her sister change her mind so abruptly?

Cal put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She didn't look at him, instead reaching out to eject the tape from the player.

A sudden noise had both of them jumping—a creaking sound, like someone stepping on old wood. Cal was on his feet in an instant, pulling Ellie up with him and dragging her into the old armoire. She held her breath as the door to the shack squeaked open, and a beam of sunlight spilled into the room.

A figure stepped in, blocking out the light as he moved further inside.

Hopeful.

His gaze swept over the room before settling on the tape recorder sitting on the floor in front of the couch. His brows furrowed, a look of confusion replacing the usual calmness on his face. Then realization dawned, turning into anger.

He strode towards the tape player, picking it up and inspecting it, his hands shaking slightly. With a swift motion, he yanked the tape out of the player, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for signs of an intruder.

Ellie's heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she was sure Hopeful would hear it. But he turned away from their hiding spot, and she exhaled silently in relief.

Suddenly, Hopeful's gaze shifted to the photo wall. He walked over to them, stopped in front of Hope's picture, and touched it tenderly. His expression softened into something unrecognizably gentle—almost affectionate—but it hardened into a steely determination.

He kissed the tips of his fingers and pressed them to the photo. "It's almost time, my love."

A cold shiver ran down Ellie's spine. She squeezed Cal's hand tightly. His grip on her tightened in response, offering silent comfort.

Hopeful crossed back to the desk and pulled a package out of one of the drawers. Then, after one last look around, he left.

They stayed frozen in the wardrobe a few minutes longer until Cal dared to crack open the door.

"Fuck," he said on a harsh exhale and helped her out of the wardrobe. "That was too close. Let's go."

"Wait." She grabbed Hope's journal and stuffed it into the pocket of her robe.

Cal gave her a nod of approval before grabbing the box of tapes and shoving as many as he could into his pockets. While he concealed the recorder against his chest, she headed for the door, poking her head out to ensure the coast was clear. Seeing no one, she slipped out, Cal hot on her heels.