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Haven

The first step to leaving a cult isn’t realizing you’re in one.

You can know you’re a part of one and not care. You can be proud that you’re in one. You can rise in the ranks to gain the power that comes with leading people who’re automatically loyal to you, all because God “anointed” you.

That’s how the people at Cornerstone are. Pastor Beckham preached about how the world called us a cult and made fun of us. But according to him, what everyone else didn’t realize was how close we were to God. We had something special— Beckham had something special—and he wanted to share his God-given gift with everyone.

We’re supposed to stand out, he’d say. In the world but not of it, remember? What a great way to point to Jesus’s light!

Looking back, it was basically an admission of what Cornerstone is. We just ignored it because… well, because people in the world have been deceived by the devil. We couldn’t be the wrong ones, not when we had God on our side.

That line of thinking used to reassure me.

Now it makes me sick.

“You okay, hon?” Julie asks as she drives us down the interstate, moving farther and farther away from home.

She’s the one who helped me leave. Cornerstone’s church services have always been open to visitors, and Julie started coming every month or so back when I was a young teenager. I haven’t asked her, but I think her plan was always to find a way to help people escape.

I’m not sure why Julie chose me specifically. There are plenty of young people at Cornerstone. Maybe because I always talked to her? Or maybe because I didn’t look happy? She tried to hide her shock when she found out I’d gotten married at the age of fifteen, but I saw it. She was concerned.

And it made me wonder if I should be concerned, too.

That’s the first step to leaving, I think—realizing you’re being harmed.

It’s why I ended up accepting the tiny piece of paper Julie managed to slip me one Sunday after my husband forbid me from talking to her. Maybe I should’ve realized it earlier in life. I suppose I should’ve realized lots of things earlier in life. But instead, it took multiple secret phone calls with Julie while Isaiah was at work for me to understand it.

I dedicated my life to worshiping a savior, but I wasn’t safe at all.

“Haven?” Julie asks again. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m just thinking,” I say quietly. “I… I never thought I’d leave home.”

For a while, I actually thought it was a sin to leave. No, not just a sin. It was scary. Tempting. Evil.

The world is run by the devil. That’s what I was taught. But this world… It doesn’t look devilish. It’s all late summer sunlight filtering through Pennsylvanian trees and some type of upbeat music coming from the speakers in Julie’s car.

The devil is a deceiver. That’s what Pastor Beckham would say if he could hear my thoughts.

I shake my head. Beckham. He’s just Beckham now.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asks.

“Everything is so… different.”

“In what way?”

My fingers trace over the rough material of my denim shorts. I’ve never worn anything but skirts and dresses before, and the sensation of having such a thick material in between my thighs is going to take some getting used to.

So much skin.

That’s another thing I’ll have to get used to. I never wore anything that fell above the knees before, and these shorts don’t even cover half my thighs. I thought I’d catch on fire for wearing them, but nothing happened when I slipped them on this morning.

It’s only furthered my doubts.

“Everything is different in every way, I think,” I say eventually. “I thought there’d be more… more…”

But I’m not sure how to finish the sentence. The harder I try to voice my thoughts, the sillier I feel. What, did I really think I’d step out of Cornerstone and immediately find myself surrounded by drugs and God-hating atheists? Or that there would be prostitutes lining the streets?

Instead, we’ve driven past multiple billboards telling people to Find their hope in Christ and to Run to Jesus. Julie rolled her eyes at an “Adult Store” advertisement, but I’m not sure what it meant or why she doesn’t like it.

“More sin?” Julie asks.

My eyes snap to her. “How did you know that?”

She smiles, and there’s something about it that’s different than the smiles I’m used to. It’s genuine and full, like she’s expressing herself for the sake of it. “You forget how often I’ve heard Beckham preach.”

I shift my gaze toward my feet. “Right.”

She’s silent for a minute before saying, “There is sin out here, but… it’s not so different from the sin you grew up around. Everyone at Cornerstone just hides it better. Some people don’t bother hiding it at all.”

“Really?”

“Well, not everyone believes sin exists,” Julie says. “I know you know that.”

“But they don’t feel shame?”

“Why would they?”

“Well, deep down, they know, don’t they? They don’t want to believe, but they know—” My voice falters, and heat fills my cheeks. “Or… maybe that’s wrong.”

You’re doing it again. Saying something just because you grew up hearing it.

“It’s all right, hon. You don’t have to abandon all your beliefs. If that’s one you want to keep, then you can.”

“Do you believe that?” I ask.

“That deep down, everyone knows God exists?” She shakes her head. “No. But if it’s what you believe—”

“It’s not,” I say quickly. “I don’t believe it. I don’t know what I believe. I just…”

Julie nods but doesn’t say anything. If I were in her position, I wouldn’t know what to say, either. How do you help a girl who’s finally come to the realization that her whole life has been a series of elaborate lies?

Closing my eyes, I sink into my seat. I feel the way I did when I was a child learning church history. There were so many events and dates to remember, and I memorized them all until I could recite them in my sleep. It became mindless. And now here I am, doing the same thing with opinions I’m not sure I even trust anymore.

“I had to de-program some too when I was your age,” Julie says. “Ah… I believe it’s called deconstruction these days. I think it can be good. Helps you be sure that you’re thinking for yourself.”

“But you didn’t deprogram— deconstruct— all the way?” I ask.

“No. I stayed Christian, I just left some beliefs behind. Being against abortion, the homophobia, the racism… stuff that, in my opinion, Jesus would find heretical if he were walking the earth today.”

I frown. I’ve heard of abortions before, and the same goes for racism. But the other one is completely new to me. “Homophobia?”

“Thinking homosexuality is a sin, dear. Well, that’s not all of it, but I’m not sure I’m the best person to explain all the details. I’m still learning quite a bit myself.”

Pastor—no, Beckham— only preached about homosexuality once or twice. I remember how passionate he was, though. He said it was an abomination.

I never really understood it, possibly because my friend Ruth and I shared a kiss or two when we were younger, and it felt harmless. Nice, even. But after Paul’s first sermon, Ruth avoided me for months and would only hang around me again after I promised her I’d repented.

“You don’t think it’s wrong?” I ask her.

“No, not at all, dear.”

“Oh.”

An ache blooms in my chest. Did I spend all those nights repenting of my feelings toward Ruth for nothing? Was there actually nothing wrong with kissing her? With wanting to do it again? I was so terrified that God would curse my marriage for what I’d done. When Isaiah ended up being cruel toward me, I thought it was my punishment.

But… maybe that’s not the case. Maybe he’s just a horrible, evil person, and I only ended up trapped with him by coincidence.

Again, I stare at my feet. That’s just another thing I’ll have to figure out, I suppose.

How am I supposed to know what’s real?

I feel like a toddler just learning to walk. I’m off-balance and wobbly, and the only way I can stay upright is if I’m holding onto something. Problem is, there’s nothing to grab onto.

A loud noise comes from the speakers, interrupting the song that’s playing, and I jump.

“Oh, hold on. That’s Ben calling.” Julie presses a button on her steering wheel, and then the sound of a man humming comes through the speakers. “Hey, baby. We’re almost home. Just got another hour or two.”

“Oh, good. Have any trouble?”

“Nope. Everything is good so far.”

I stare at Julie’s phone. It’s in its holder with a moving map on display, yet she’s talking to her husband, too—and somehow it’s connected to her car.

What on earth?

Before yesterday, I’d never seen a phone that wasn’t attached to a cord. Julie keeps hers in her pocket, and it looks so different from the ones I’m used to. According to Julie, she can do just about anything with her phone—play games, use something called Google, or even have it do math for her.

It sounds so impossible for something so small to be so powerful. I don’t know if I believe my eyes or if I’m imagining things.

I’m sure there will be a lot of that in my near future.

Julie and Ben talk for another minute before hanging up. She doesn’t even touch her phone to do so—just presses another button on her steering wheel.

“Move-in day for freshmans is today, although I’d imagine most kids will be done by the time we get there. We’ll get you settled into your dorm, and you’ll be able to meet your roommate. Ben bought some stuff for you, but we’ll have to go on a couple shopping trips to get you everything else you need. Clothes, whatever toiletries he forgot, et cetera.”

“Okay.” I try to keep the nervousness out of my voice, but I don’t think it works well.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind?” she asks softly. “You can still stay with me and Ben if you’d like. We’re not far from campus.”

“I want to stay in a dorm,” I lie.

To be honest, living with a stranger terrifies me. Julie and Ben are still strangers for the most part, but at least I’d have my own room if I was staying with them. But I’m not running away from everything I’ve ever known just so I can lock myself up in my room whenever I’m not at class. Having a roommate is a good place to start, I think.

“All right,” Julie says. “And we’ll have to do a decent amount of work to get your name changed over officially, but we can get the ball rolling on that fairly quickly.”

“You think it’ll be enough?” I ask.

“For what?”

“For them to not be able to find me.”

Because they’ll look. I know they will. Yesterday, Isaiah would’ve come home from work and realized I wasn’t there. Eventually, he would’ve realized I wasn’t anywhere. He’s not the type to just let me go, even if he has no clue where I could be headed.

“I… I think so,” Julie says slowly, “but I don’t know. If Cornerstone decides to hire a private investigator, then the less you’re on social media, the harder it’ll be to find you digitally. As for finding you other ways… I’m honestly not sure, hon. But we’ll do everything we can to keep you safe.”

Safe. I used to think I knew what that meant.

Home was safe. Home was holy. Home was where I belonged.

I never thought I’d leave.

But now, I never want to return.

. . .

Pemberton University is so beautiful I think I must’ve stepped into a storybook. Julie said she’ll try to show me around campus tomorrow, but she sounded doubtful about having the time, so I soak everything in as she drives toward my dorm hall.

Similar to Cornerstone, I can tell that a lot of thought went into the aesthetics of this place.

The buildings are mostly made of bricks, and there are cobblestone walkways cutting through trimmed lawns. Pretty trees litter the area, along with meticulously kept gardens full of blooming bushes and flowers.

Maybe it’s the soft evening light, but the place looks almost magical. It’s much more welcoming than I thought it’d be, and I find some of my anxiety slipping away.

“This is Westwind Creek,” Julie says as we drive over a stone bridge. “It flows all the way out to Birchwood Lakes.”

Peering out the window, I catch a glimpse of the sparkling water rushing down a slight incline. “It’s pretty.”

“Isn’t it? Pemberton only accepts the best students—or the richest, depending on who you ask. A lot of money flows in and out of this place, and they put it to good use.”

“The best students?”

My stomach sinks. Cornerstone runs their own school. It uses a state-approved curriculum, otherwise the government would step in, but I got the sense there was a lot that we didn’t learn. I got decent grades, but I don’t think I was anywhere near the best.

“Don’t worry.” With a reassuring smile, Julie reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You’ll do just fine here, and if you need help, we’ll get you a tutor.”

“Okay,” I whisper as Julie pulls into a parking spot in front of a large, brick building.

There are some girls my age wandering around, and I find myself staring at them. One is wearing a shirt that doesn’t cover her stomach and leaves her shoulders bare, and another is wearing a tight T-shirt with the words “Women don’t owe you shit” plastered on the front.

“Is that… normal?” I ask weakly.

“What?” Julie follows my gaze. “The… the girls?”

“What they’re wearing.”

“Oh.” She laughs. “Pretty normal, yes, but you don’t have to dress in any way that makes you uncomfortable. Do whatever makes you happy.”

Whatever makes me happy. What an odd concept.

While Julie turns off the car and texts her husband, I stare up at the building in front of us, waiting for… something to happen. At Cornerstone, women almost never went to college, and it was often rare for men to, as well. Beckham pushed for apprenticeships, trade jobs, or seminary. On the occasion that someone did need go to college, he only approved of a few, and they were all the strictest Christian universities.

Pemberton University, though, isn’t Christian. Beckham warned about places like these. A couple parents at Cornerstone let their kids go to non-Christian colleges, and they were never heard from again.

They’ll corrupt your mind, Beckham said from the pulpit one day. They’ll force you to conform and denounce the Lord.

I used to be so afraid of colleges. Now here I am, planning on hiding out in one for the next four years. But what other options do I have? Here, I have a place to live, food to eat, and a way to get a good-paying job when I graduate.

At least, that’s what Julie told me.

Julie finishes her call and slides her phone into her purse. “Ben is on his way over with all your stuff. You ready to go in?”

One last time, I take in the building. It just looks… normal. Not evil, and definitely not like some kind of trap.

Maybe this will be my salvation.

“I’m ready,” I say.

Once I’ve grabbed my bag from the backseat, we head inside. Julie walks confidently through the halls and ushers me into an elevator.

“You’re on the third floor. Good thing Ben is doing most of the heavy lifting today.” Julie winks at me.

“So that’s still the same?” I ask.

“What is?”

“Men doing all the hard work.”

“Oh.” Julie chuckles. “Not always. I mean, it’s still pretty common, but not everywhere. Feminists have done plenty of work to dismantle the patriarchy and all that.”

I nod even though I only understood half of what Julie just said.

Once we’re on the third floor, I follow Julie down yet another hallway. She stops at a random door and knocks a few times before unlocking it. Inside, it looks like my roommate has claimed her half of the room, although she doesn’t seem to be here.

“Your roommate’s name is Athelia Harper,” Julie tells me as she nods to the empty bed on the right side of the room. “Looks like that one is yours.”

I drop my bag on the floor and lower myself onto the edge of the mattress. The room is fairly large, and it looks like we have our own bathroom, which is nice.

“Do you want to grab a bite to eat with me and Ben?” Julie asks. “I know you and I already had dinner, but road trips always make me hungry.”

“I think I’ll stay here, but thank you.”

Now that I’m finally in my dorm, the overwhelm is setting in. The only time I ever left Cornerstone was to do grocery shopping, and even then, Ruth and I were in and out as quickly as possible. I don’t think I’m up for seeing more of the world quite yet.

“Sure thing, hon.”

There’s a knock on the partially open door, and then a man steps inside. A few plastic shopping bags dangle from his hands, and he grins at the sight of us.

“You must be Haven?” he asks. “I’m Ben.”

“Hi,” I say quietly.

“I got you some clothes. Not much, just enough to get you through the next few days until Julie can take you shopping. I hope they’re the right size. Julie said you were probably either a small or a medium?”

My brows pull down, and I glance at Julie questioningly. Small? Medium? What does that mean?

“Clothing in stores comes in different sizes,” she explains. “It helps people find things that will fit their body type.”

“Oh. That… makes sense. So I won’t have to sew my clothes?”

“Not unless you want to,” Julie says, smiling as she takes the bags from Ben. “Thanks, baby. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Sure.” Running a hand through his short brown hair, he looks between us. He must be able to sense my unease because he takes a step back, his smile softening. “I’ll let you settle in. See you around, Haven.”

I give him a wave, and after dropping a kiss to the top of Julie’s head, Ben leaves. Julie sets all the bags on my desk.

“Looks like he got you some of the basics. Soap, lotion, deodorant, toothpaste, a toothbrush… It’s a good start.”

My body remains frozen on the bed even as my gaze is fixed on her. She pulls out a set of sheets and a blanket, a few shirts, and some undergarments and socks. Realizing that Ben grabbed all those for me, including the more intimate items, makes me blush.

“This key card is how you’ll get in and out of your dorm hall. The doors are open today since everyone was moving in, but starting tonight at midnight, they’ll lock automatically.”

Forcing the embarrassment from my mind, I nod in acknowledgment of what Julie just said.

“I recommend keeping it on a lanyard—” She holds up what looks like a thick, navy blue ribbon. “—or in a wallet, which…” She frowns at the pile of stuff on the desk. “We’ll have to get you one of those.”

A wallet. Isaiah has one of those. When I asked for one, he said it wasn’t necessary. He gives me cash whenever I need to go grocery shopping, and I always keep it in a pocket in my dress.

I shake my head. Gave. He gave me cash. Not anymore. As long as this plan works, he’ll never give me anything ever again.

“The key card is also what you’ll use to pay for your meals. It works on a credits-based system. You have enough to get three meals at the cafeteria a day. It works at a couple on-campus restaurants as well.”

“So… don’t lose it?”

“That’s right. If you do, you can go to the office to get a new one, but it’s a bit of a hassle. Best to just keep track of this one.”

I nod. “I’m good at not losing things.”

For some reason, that makes Julie laugh. “Good. Now, I looked over your roommate’s application myself. On paper, she seems great. Incredibly smart, volunteered at an animal shelter in high school, and is on track to become a teacher. I’m sure she’s nice, so if you have questions, just ask her.”

“All right.” I really hope Julie isn’t expecting me to remember all this on the first go around. My brain feels like it’s about to burst.

She stops sorting through everything to look at me. “How you feeling?”

“Tired,” I lie. “I think I’ll probably go to sleep soon.”

“Fair enough. It’s been a long day. Do you want help making your bed?”

I know Julie is well aware I can do that myself, so I think she’s offering to be nice. The good-mannered thing would be to accept her help, but I feel the way I do when I know Isaiah is about to come home from work. My chest is tight, it’s getting hard to breathe, and my hands are beginning to tremble.

“Thank you, but I think I’d like some alone time to wind down.”

She smiles again. “That’s understandable enough.”

To my relief, Julie doesn’t seem to notice my distress. I grew up believing that lying was a sin, yet my husband forced me to do it daily. I had to hide my fear of him anytime we were around other people, had to lie about the bruises he gave me, had to pretend my faith in God was growing as it was doing the opposite.

So, for better or for worse, deceit is a sin I excel at.

“I’ll stop by sometime before classes start to drop off your tablet,” Julie says. “All your textbooks are ordered, but it’ll take a while for them to get in, so you’ll have to do with ebooks for the moment.”

Ebooks?

I almost ask her what that means, and if “tablet” has a different meaning than the one I learned about in ancient history class, but I bite my tongue. My head is already swirling from everything I’ve discovered today. I don’t think I can take much more.

I’ll ask in the morning.

“Thank you.”

She holds out her arms to me, and somehow, my body moves when I tell it to. I hug her, holding back the tears that prick my eyes as I realize I’ll probably never hug my mom again.

“I know this is all scary and overwhelming, but Ben and I are here for you, okay? You’re gonna do great.”

With a nod, I let another lie slip free. “I’m excited.”

“That’s good to hear.” She squeezes my upper arm. “Goodnight, Haven.”

“Goodnight.”

I hold my breath as she crosses the room. This will be the first time I’ve been alone since I snuck through Cornerstone’s cornfield yesterday afternoon to get to Julie’s car. Solitude sounds lovely but also a little scary. Without her here to voice my doubts to, I’m worried I’ll decide I made a mistake in leaving before the hour is up.

“Ah—one more thing.” She turns, a grimace on her face. “It’s best for your safety if you keep talk about Cornerstone to a minimum.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure if I was planning on telling anyone, but not being able to feels off for some reason. “Why?”

“People… they get curious.” She gestures to herself. “That’s how I ended up venturing down to attend a Cornerstone church service in the first place. There was a documentary about it that blew up a few years back, and I wanted to see if it was as bad as it was being portrayed.”

“Was it?”

She laughs. “Much worse, actually, but that’s not my point. If someone connects you to Cornerstone, things could get messy.”

“How?”

“Well, what if someone learns you’re from Cornerstone and heads down there to check things out, just like I did? What if they mention you? I know the odds of that happening are low, but there’s always a non-zero chance.”

Oh. I hadn’t even thought of that.

“And then there’s the possibility of blackmail,” Julie continues, “or of getting Cornerstone to pay a ransom for your return, and… Well, both those things are incredibly unlikely, but I think we should tread carefully, especially for the first few months. I’d tell you to treat it like the Witness Protection Program, but I’m assuming you don’t know what that is?”

“I’ve never heard of it, no.”

I’ve never heard of blackmail or whatever a ransom is, either, but I’m too tired to ask.

“Well, just be careful how much information you share. I’d definitely keep Cornerstone’s name to yourself.”

A chill creeps across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake before settling deep in my chest. I just want to be free.

“I’m sorry to scare you,” Julie says gently. “I’m only suggesting it because I want to keep you safe.”

“Thank you. I’ll be careful.”

“All right.” Finally, she reaches for the doorknob. “Night, Haven.”

The moment the door shuts behind her, doubts fill my mind, snatching away the peace I was hoping I’d find.

If it’s going to be this hard to escape Cornerstone, is that a sign that I never should’ve left?

Am I just rebelling against God? Pretending I don’t think he’s real when, deep down, I know he is?

Are all these worries God’s way of telling me to go back?

If I don’t… am I going to hell? I keep trying to tell myself it doesn’t exist, but I could be wrong.

All of a sudden, this room doesn’t feel as large as I thought. It’s like it’s actively shrinking, and the bright white walls and general lack of warmth in here make me feel trapped.

I have to get out of here.

Grabbing my key card just in case, I stumble out into the hallway. I go to head for the elevator before realizing I don’t know which way to go. To my left and to my right, the corridor looks exactly the same—door after door after door.

Just as I’m about to crumple to the floor in panic, my eyes catch sight of a sign hanging from the ceiling with the word EXIT glowing in red. I dash toward it and find the set of double doors that lead to the elevators.

Pushing through them, I rush toward the nearest elevator, only to come to a screeching halt. The metal doors are shut. I press my hand to it, wondering if I can pry it open, but I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work.

How did Julie get it to open?

But I can’t recall how she did it. I was too busy taking in the building itself.

Glancing around, I find another door, this one with a picture of stairs next to it. Perfect. Those, I know how to use.

My heart is beating faster than I thought possible as I rush toward the first floor. I just need to get out of this building, that’s all. Just need some fresh air. Then I’ll be fine.

In the lobby, I force myself to walk at a normal pace, not wanting to disturb the few people sitting in the lounge area. It’s fully dark outside now, but the path is illuminated with light posts. As I slip through the front doors, I bask in their warm glow.

Leaving the cold air of the dorm hall behind, I take a left when the pathway splits, heading away from the parking lot and through a pretty garden. My fingers graze the thick leaves of one of the bushes before moving on to the soft pink flowers sprouting from its stems.

Much better.

Out here, things are more the way I’m used to. Grass, trees, flowers, bushes—all things I’m used to seeing on a regular basis. It’s like a little slice of home even though I’m hours away.

My chest squeezes at the thought. Cornerstone isn’t my home. Not anymore. I don’t ever want to step foot onto their grounds again, yet here I am, searching out the closest thing to it that I can find.

How can I miss a place that caused me so much pain?

My mind wanders to what Julie said earlier about homosexuality, and then to Ruth. Was it not wrong to kiss her? Did I not need to beg God for forgiveness until tears were streaming down my cheeks?

And what does Ruth think of me now? By this point, Isaiah will have noticed I’m gone. He would’ve come home to an empty house yesterday with no wife in his kitchen making him dinner. She was probably one of the first people he called, after my parents and his.

Is she judging me? Or is she worried?

Probably both.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” a masculine voice says from behind me.

I turn, and in the dim light, all I see is a tall man with short, blond hair walking toward me. My stomach drops.

It’s Isaiah. It’s my husband. He found me already.