The Forsaken (The Chosen Series Book 2), Patricia Bell [e textbook reader .txt] 📗

elder into the house. Briefly, her father placed a hand on her shoulder just long enough to comfort her.

“Elder Aaron, what brings you here?” Mama Dorothy asked as they entered the house. Several of the younglings sat at the big table, eating an evening snack.

“We will need some alone time,” her father said. “Take the younglings out back for a bit.”

Mama Dorothy looked from Abigail to Elder Aaron and then back to her husband. “Yes, husband,” she said as she gathered up the kids.

Mama Sarah entered the room, but as soon as she saw them, she backed out quietly. Abigail had been the only one to see her but pretended she didn’t. She couldn’t bear to face her biological mother. They had always had an unbreakable bond. A bond that was about to shatter into a thousand pieces.

“So, Abigail. How have you fared since the loss of your sister?” Elder Aaron asked as he sat on the chair and nodded for her to take a seat on the couch.

“I am well, Elder.” She sat but dared not look up at him for fear he would see the truth in her sad eyes.

“The two of you were like twins,” he said. “What, three days apart?”

“Yes, Elder. I, the eldest.”

“It must have been hard for you to lose her.”

Abigail had no idea where the conversation was going, but she played along anyway. “Yes, it has been hard on all of us. Losing a sister is no easy thing, no?”

“And you would do just about anything to get her back, would you not?”

For the first time, Abigail looked up. What kind of snare was he trying to set out for her? She looked at her father. His eyes repeated the three words he’d said before. You must lie.

“Elder?” she spoke steadily. “I do not understand your words. My sister has passed. There is no coming back from that no matter how much I may wish it to be so.”

He nodded. “Yes, you are correct. Your sister is indeed dead. But as you are also aware, questions have arisen as to your whereabouts on the day of the Smithfield barn fire.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I am aware, Elder Aaron.”

“After months of investigating.” Elder Aaron spoke with a calmness that unnerved her. “And questioning every member of the congregation, young and old, we have uncovered some disconcerting information about the event.” He folded his hands in his lap.

Abigail looked past Elder Aaron just in time to see her mother wipe a tear from her eye. When their eyes met, Abigail’s heart shattered.

Elder Aaron and her father both turned to see what she was looking at, but her mother had moved away without detection. Elder Aaron turned back to her. He was a fierce and unkind man. She looked down to his arm, which still held the scars from where her sister had dug deep gashes into his skin. His gaze dropped to the wounds and then back up to her, eyes as cold as ice.

They stared at each other for a while before he finally spoke. “A witness has come forward.”

A boulder settled in the pit of her stomach. Who? Who had come forward?

“The person gave a complete account of you running from the Smithfield barn only minutes after the alarm was sounded.”

Abigail looked from Elder Aaron to her father. She was not good at lying. Still, if she wanted to live, she had no choice. Her father had attested to that, but how could she lie with him right there in the room?

“Me, Elder Aaron?” She glanced again at her father. “Running from the barn?”

“Elder Aaron.” Her father stood, sensing her distress with him in the room. “I beg your pardon, but I must tend to something outside. Please continue your line of questioning.”

Elder Aaron nodded and continued as her father left the room. All her life, her father had taught her that lying was a sin. Not just in word but also in deed. He’d been the perfect role model, a man that other men in the community looked up to and respected. And now, he was telling her to sin. She would do it, but she was glad he would not have to witness it.

Elder Aaron cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him.

“Yes, Abigail. The witness saw you running away from the fire. And you were not wearing your covering.” Elder Aaron stared at her intently.

That day rushed through her head as if it had happened only yesterday. As soon as she had been sure the flames would not burn out, she’d run. But somehow, she’d lost her cover. She wasn’t sure if it had fallen off at the barn and burned in the fire or was lost somewhere along the way to her home. Had someone found it?

Each female was assigned a covering for their head. Their initials stitched into the lining so they could be told apart on laundry day. Several of the girls had more than one, but no more than two. Abigail only had one, but when she’d gotten back home, it was there hanging on her hook.

“They must have been mistaken, Elder Aaron. It was not me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Elder.”

“Remove your cover for me, please.”

Abigail stared at him for a moment. It was unheard of for a female to bare her head to any man other than her husband. Not even her own father. “Elder?”

He nodded, holding out a hand. “The covering, Abigail.”

In shame, Abigail untied her covering and pulled it from her head. The moment it left her head, she felt violated, naked.

Her hand shook as she held it out to Elder Aaron. She placed her hand over her head to hide her shameful state. She took in a deep breath to sway the tears that bit at the edges of her eyelids. How could he do this to her?

He turned the cover inside-out, checked the stitching, and handed it back to her. She immediately placed it back on her head