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

“What?”

“Everything. Naaman getting run over, mysterious strangers leaving money at the door.”

“I don’t know. Is this how the English live?”

“Yeah, sure, Jonathan. People get run over every day right in front of my house.”

“Right before a mysterious stranger leaves money on your doorstep?”

“Right before.”

Johnathan laughed and Luna smiled. Even with everything going on, she felt safe with him. But she wasn’t safe. Not really. Something crazy was going on, and she couldn’t seem to put it all together. One thing she did know, though, was that all of it had something to do with them angering the High Prophet.

“What do you say we spend that money on a cheap car?” she asked.

“It’s not really ours, though, is it?”

“The man gave it to us. Both of our names are on the envelope.”

“What if it’s stolen?”

Luna giggled. “Yeah, right. Like someone is going to rob a bank, steal a thousand dollars, and then deliver it to two teenagers who broke out of the Crazy Camp.”

“Don’t call it that.”

She hadn’t realized her words had hurt him. She’d made comments many times about them, and he’d never once said anything about it. Why now?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s just that, those are my people. Well, they were. Right or wrong, my family still lives there. And Naaman . . . he was my father.”

“I know. I’m sorry. That was inconsiderate of me. As much as I wanted to leave that place, I have to admit that Naaman did save my life.”

“What actually happened that day?” he asked.

She’d never spoken of that short period of her life. Not even to her mother. She wasn’t sure she was ready to now. “It was nothing.”

“Luna, my people, The Chosen, they don’t take people in. It’s just not done. My father saw something out there that made him . . .”

“I ran away from home. My mom and I had gotten into an argument, and I left.”

“Yeah?” he prompted.

“Well, I was sleeping in an alley, and a couple of men came up on me. They were going to . . .” Luna stopped, remembering that day.

“Have their way with you?”

“Yes.”

“And my father found you?”

“He ran those guys off and then gave me food. I hadn’t eaten in . . . a long time. If he hadn’t been there, I don’t know what they would have done to me.”

“He got into a lot of trouble for bringing you into our community.”

“I know.”

Luna didn’t want to talk about Naaman anymore. The truth was, while her time with The Chosen was anything but enjoyable, she’d learned not only that she’d been horribly selfish with her own mother, but that kindness came in all shapes and forms.

“I’m sorry I made fun of them, though. They’re a part of you and made you the cool guy I fell in love with.”

“Who me?”

“Of course, you, silly.” She smiled. “And I’m sorry about your father. Sometimes I forget that he . . .”

“He was a good father. And maybe an outsider would not understand it, but he loved us. He . . .” Jonathan took a deep breath.

“What will happen to the other wives? Esther and Josephine?”

“They will be taken care of,” he assured her. “The community will make sure of that.”

“Are you sad?”

“The Chosen do not mourn death. It is a rite of passage. Father is now in the Kingdom with my mother and Our Heavenly Father.”

“But are you sad?” It was a common emotion that The Chosen elected to ignore.

Jonathan stayed silent for a long moment. “You cannot change me, Luna. I am who I have been brought up to be. I will discuss it no more.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Luna whispered into the darkness. She’d always had a bad habit of opening her mouth unnecessarily.

Of course, he was sad. No one, not even The Chosen could suppress their emotions. They were humans, not Vulcans. But she’d been wrong to try and make him admit it. Everyone had their own way of dealing with pain. And his way was much better than her own.

Chapter 23 ― Daniel

As Daniel sat inside the wall, watching his father, he yawned. No one had been into the High Prophet’s office all day. His father had spent most of the day on the computer doing who knew what.

Yawning again, Daniel stood up to leave, but the sound of a faint, muffled cry stopped him in his tracks. He ducked back down and looked through the vent. His father was completely quiet. The television was turned off.

“Let me out!” The words were barely recognizable, but he’d heard them. It was a girl. But where was it coming from?

Daniel stood back up and walked toward the stairs. He’d not been back down there since the last time he snuck out. It was a creepy place, and all that money made him feel strange, dirty.

The love of money is the root of all evil.

Was his father evil?

“Please!” the voice grew louder as Daniel got closer to the stairs.

He didn’t dare speak. His father would be sure to hear him if he did. Instead, he crept down the stairs slowly, listening for the sound again.

Silence engulfed him as he tiptoed around in his father’s money room. He waved his hand high in the air to find the switch. He found it easily and pulled on it.

The moment the light clicked on the voice spoke again. “Who’s there?”

Daniel glanced around. He saw no one.

“Who’s out there. Please. Just let me out.” The voice came again. “Please.”

Daniel crept toward the door that led to the dungeon room. He pulled on the handle, but the door did not budge.

“Who’s there? Who is it?” the voice came again.

“My name is Daniel,” he said calmly. “Why are you in there?”

“Daniel? You mean the son of the . . .” her voice fell silent.

“Why are you in there?”

No words.

“Hello? Are you there?”

Silence.

“Is your name Abigail?”

A gasp.

“I won’t hurt you, Abigail. I promise.”

“But you are the son of the High Prophet.