The Girl in the Manor (Emma Griffin FBI Mystery Book 3) by A.J. Rivers

Author:A.J. Rivers [Rivers, A.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Four years ago

She couldn't eat the apples anymore. Not since she saw the man tied to the tree. She wasn't supposed to see him. Looking out the window meant she was distracted, that she wasn't putting all of herself into what she was meant to be doing. That night it was stitching her blanket. Each woman created one, a unique piece designed by her and stitched by hand. She'd been working on hers for almost a month, and it was nearly done. Her stitches were tiny and even, the pattern flowing and smooth to remind her of air. But the long hours spent hunched over in the glow of the oil lamps, the only light they were allowed, made her back ache and her mind fog.

She didn't want it to. She fought for her mind to stay clear and maintain the absolute focus she was meant to. Thinking of anything else was weakness, a flaw that could make her deemed unworthy. That couldn't happen. Not now. But that night she couldn't help but take a moment to herself. She pulled her thoughts and concentration away from the blanket forming under her hands and glanced through the window to her side. She was surprised at how late it was. The hours went by without anyone coming to stop her, to offer food, to speak a single word to her. The only passage of time was the darkness of the room deepening and her eyes becoming more dependent on the light of the lamp. She was accustomed to that now. Light barely touched her anymore.

She was to become the light. She didn't need it given to her. Even the lamp was a luxury granted with the reminder it could be taken away just as easily. She was to create the light within herself. It was her role, her place. She was called to be the light for others, for Lucas.

Outside, the only light came from the moon. Even the stars were hidden behind clouds stretched like dyed wool across the sky. She almost didn't notice him. She almost turned back to the breath of air across the blue fabric draped on her lap. If he hadn't lifted his head, she would have. It was only a slight movement. His chin rose up from where it rested on his chest just enough that his eyes would be able to see above the ground. An instant later, it fell back. His body sagged against the ropes lashed around him. In seconds it was obvious the tension of the rough cords was the only thing holding him up.

She ached to see breath. She held her own like it might somehow give it to him. He wore nothing above his waist; his skin marred with deep lines and discoloration. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. Something inside her told her the moment she did; he wouldn't exist anymore. That's how it was within The Tower.

Finally, two other men came to the tree and cut the ropes away.

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