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“Getting the shit beat out of you,” he snaps, but there’s not much energy to it. “We need help.”

He’s right. We can’t keep going on like this. My body aches. I probably have a concussion. Levi has an edge—a nervous energy that I’ve never witnessed before. He needssomething, a focus, and maybe this is it. What I don’t admit to him—to myself, is that I feel wrong coming to Camille empty handed. Without her daughter.

Fuck. I need to man up.

“Let’s do it.” I rise to my feet. Levi follows, hands shoved in his pockets. We wait for a truck to pass, then cross the street. I’ve just stepped on the brick pathway leading to the porch when the front door opens.

“Hold up.” I pause, grabbing Levi’s elbow, and jerk my chin to the door.

A figure steps out, shadowed by the awning on the porch. It’s not until they step out into the daylight that I see that it’s a woman.

And she’s holding a shotgun.

Her voice carries, calm and collected, across the yard. “You have fifteen seconds to explain why you’re on my property.”

“Whoa.” I hold up both hands. “We don’t mean harm—”

“I know who you are and who sent you.” She’s far enough out now that I see her short blond hair. Her eyes, her bone structure, the tight, sassy, set of her jaw. This has to be Camille Montgomery. Imogene’s mother. “You need to turn around and go back to your master. Tell him that if he keeps sending his boys around, I will retaliate.”

Boys. Rex and Silas.

Next to me, Levi swallows. “No one sent us. We came on our own.”

Her gun falters, half an inch before she levels it again. “Where’s my daughter?”

“Rex was going to bring her to you.” I take a breath and slowly lower my hands. “But Anex…”

“Timothy stopped it, didn’t he?”

I blink at the use of Anex’s name. “Yes.”

“And what? You’re here to finish me off?” Her eyes are wild and that gun, it’s still pointed at us. “Shut me down? Teach me a lesson?”

Hearing the pain in this woman’s voice, theanger, it shakes me to my bones. Why? Because I feel the same way. Levi and I look at one another and the grimace on his face says he does too.

“We’re here,” I say, hating the clench in my chest, “because we need your help.”

Camille checks us for weapons before allowing us inside, forcing us to grip the railing of the porch while she pats us down. Her hands are firm—diligent, checking inside our boots. We must pass her inspection, because she grunts, and opens the screen door with a screech.

I’m anxiously following her in. Not because I’m afraid, but because I get the sense that she is. And scared people do impulsive things.

The inside of the house is much nicer than the outside, although it’s clear it isn’t used for a home. The front living room has a defined reception area, with a small desk. A rack on the wall is filled with pamphlets that have titles like, “What Makes a Cult?” or “Releasing Your Mind.” I avert my eyes, not liking the way the titles make me feel, but I notice Levi lingers, gaze glued to the literature.

I turn, and see that the adjacent dining room has chairs in a circle—like it’s set up for a meeting. Still, it’s got a warm feel to it, welcoming—you know when you’re not being held at gunpoint.

As I assess our surroundings, I keep one eye on Camille. The shotgun is in her hand, but at least she now has the barrel directed down to the floor. I take the opportunity to introduce myself.

“Ms. Montgomery,” I say, thrusting out my hand, “my name is—”

“Elon. And you’re Levi. I remember you, and your parents.” Her eyes roam over us. “Although you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”

I rub my chin, feeling my beard. “Yeah, I guess we have.”

She taps the barrel of the gun on the hardwoods. “I need you to understand that I will protect myself and this program.” Her jaw tightens. “I will not allow him to enter this world. Is that clear?”

Him.

Anex.