Page 33

Story: Indulgent

Halfway down the stairs, I hear a voice—two voices. Camille and another woman. I pause, unsure if I should interrupt. Slowly, I take one more step and peer around the corner.

“I feel so helpless. Like, if I could just talk to her—get her out of that place—and make her listen, she’d see how crazy all of this is.”

The two women are in the former dining room, sitting on two of the chairs that form the circle. A teapot and two cups sit on the coffee table. Camille’s forehead has a deep, concerned crease slashed through the normally smooth skin. “I’m not going to tell you that you shouldn’t feel this way. You should. Your sister has been behind the walls of Serendee for months now. She’s in a dangerous position.”

“We’ve just always been so close. How could she push me away like this?”

I study the woman, trying to get a better view. She looks to be in her mid-thirties. Dressed in secular clothes, a V-neck sweater and jeans. Gold bracelets wrist and a smart watch circle her wrist. Her eyes are red-rimmed, tears building in the corners. There’s something vaguely familiar about them. I’ve probably met her sister, perhaps taught her in my courses.

“Gabi,” Camille says, reaching behind her to a box of tissues. She snatches out a few and hands them to the other woman. “You have to understand, none of this is about you. Or anyone else. Her erratic behavior is the result of the methods conducted in that place. The residents of Serendee are under deep control. Sleep, diet, and sensory deprivation are part of the tactics. Fear that they may lose favor with the leader of the group.”

“I’ve watched some of his videos. Early on, Kayla was trying to talk me into taking courses with her.” She dabs at the corner of her eyes with the tissue. “How is this guy appealing? I mean, he’s attractive, but otherwise I don’t get it. Listening to him talk about all this stuff, Enlightenment and The Way and all that bullshit just… well, it sounds like bullshit.”

Camille laughs. “Itisbullshit, and Timothy slings it with perfection.” The way she uses Anex’s birth name so casually is unnerving. No one calls him that. He’s said over and over that he is no longer that person. Calling him Timothy Wray is with intention—one Camille wields like a sword. “You’re right though. He’s handsome. That gets people in the door, especially women. But he has this knack for finding a weak spot. A hollow place inside of people that they desperately want filled.” She takes a sip of her tea. “What is Kayla’s weak spot?”

Kayla. My thoughts sort, flipping through the files in my mind, ultimately landing on the right one. Kayla Montclair. Priority recruit due to her status of being the heir to a publishing empire. She’s a newer recruit. Heir to the Montclair Publishing fortune.

“She was engaged,” Gabi says, “and was in the middle of planning a very extravagant wedding. Then she found out he was cheating on her. The entire situation was very public and humiliating. After that she started immersing herself into a lot of self-help programs, which we had access to because of the publishing house. Yoga retreats. Health and wellness workshops. At first it seemed good that she was throwing herself into the business. My father was ecstatic. She was able to test products, go to seminars, get free courses. It was obvious she was really seeking ‘something,’ you know.”

“That’s the kind of thing Timothy is good at. Spotting that ‘something’ no one else can.”

“Slowly she just drifted away. Her language sounded like nonsense. All these fake terms. She started losing weight and looked like she hadn’t slept in a month. Then, one day I went by her apartment, and it was clear she’d abandoned it. Left all her clothes and possessions.” Her eyebrows rise. “Everything, but the bank accounts.”

Camille doesn’t seem surprised by any of this and confirms that by saying, “As horrifying as it sounds, all of this is right out of the Serendee playbook. She’s not the first to be taken in by this man. He’s good. Very, very good. And once he has them locked behind the walls there’s little chance of them leaving, especially on their own.”

“So, what do we do? How do we save Kayla?”

Camille squares her shoulders. “We gather evidence. Keep trying to make contact. Don’t push. Play by her rules. I’ll connect you to our private investigator who has been helping us gather information for years.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Most of all though, you have something different from the others that have come through here. Influence. Your family is connected. For the first time, we may be able to get people to listen.”

“I’ve tried. The police couldn’t do anything. Said she was there on her own free-will.”

“We have to go higher than the local police and see if we can find someone else in a similar situation. Politicians. The county prosecutor. Maybe the attorney general. Whoever your family knows that can dig into the dirty secrets of Serendee.”

A strange feeling spreads across my chest at the idea of really exposing the innerworkings of Serendee. I watch as Gabi frowns. “What kind of dirty secrets are you talking about?”

“You and I know the real focus is getting the victims of this con man out of his control, but, as you know, that’s nearly impossible to prove.” Camille grabs a file from the seat next to hers. She opens it and starts flipping through papers. “The way we’re going to take him down isn’t about kidnapping or holding people against their will. It’s through boring, stupid stuff like tax fraud, embezzlement, running illegal businesses.” She pauses, eyes flicking from the paper to Gabi’s face. “Then we expose him for the monster he really is: Human trafficking.”

The words linger in the air. The real dark and dirty secret of Serendee. The Fallen. Those sent to Re-education. Corrections.

I look down at my hands, clean and smooth. The scars, theblood, from the pain I inflicted are still there even if you can’t see them.

“I get the feeling Timothy is going after bigger and bigger marks—people with extreme wealth, like your sister. The government may not care about people, but they sure as fuck care about money. Especially money they want to get their grubby hands on—taxes.”

“But why? Isn’t the whole point of Serendee that it’s self-sustaining?”

“Once upon a time, maybe. But those days are long gone. Serendee is there to feed Timothy’s insatiable ego, and he’s going to need money and influence to do it.” She reaches out and takes the woman’s hand. “We’re close, Gabi. I’ve been trying to find a way to bring this man down for years, and for the first time I’m hopeful.”

“I just want my sister back.”

“That’s all I want, too.”

I step back up the staircase as the women say goodbye, considering the exchange. Camille’s program is more than just helping victims and families of so-called cults. She’s not just focused on saving individuals. She’s determined to bring Anex and Serendee down. I don’t even fully understand all of the terms she just used.Tax fraud, embezzlement, illegal businesses. Taxes are something Anex taught us is an absurd government overreach, something we were Better than. The people of Serendee shun the ideas of the outside world, the laws, and regulations.

The other ones… Anex has the right to manage, control, and determine the use of all monies coming in and out for the betterment of the community. It’s part of our fundamental beliefs not to get tied down in these secular rules. We don’t abide by any philosophy but our own.