Page 10 of Twisted Truths

HADLEY

Whispers about what happened to the man who called out for Trista at the Awakening circle the commune for the next couple of days. No one has seen him since, and rumour says he was sent for Purification.

It’s business as usual for the rest of us. For me, that means spending the weekday mornings in the orchards picking apples, pears, oranges, and grapefruits, or working in the washhouse crafting soaps and other homemade wares for the Sunday markets. Weekends, it’s cleaning out the animal pens.

Friday afternoon is my allotted time to clean for Guardian Solomon. As I wipe down the bathroom mirror, lost in thought, I remind myself to stay focused. I need to be careful. It’s not only my life that depends on it now, and I can’t let her down.

Why hasn’t she made contact yet?

When she told me she had to leave, I tried to change her mind. We have nowhere to go and no one to help us. While it’s dangerous for us to stay here, it’s also better the devil you know.

The next day she was gone, leaving nothing but a note.

Gabriel was furious when he realised she was gone. Anyone and everyone was in his firing line. I heard he beat up one of the maintenance guys when he found a place in the fence that had been left unfixed for weeks.

Last night, he screamed at one of the cooks, smashing his plate against the wall in the dining hall. It was a terrifying sight. The congregation watched in horror as Guardian Solomon and two of his sentinels dragged Gabriel out of the hall. His anger was spreading like wildfire, and once it ignited, there was no telling who would feel the burn.

After he was taken away, I sat there shaking, memories of my own childhood playing out like a twisted replay in my mind. The violence. Terror. Cowering in the corner of the kitchen and watching my father lay into my mother because she had overcooked his food, or it was cold, or too healthy—any excuse he could find to justify his brutal attacks. One day, he went too far, and she never got up again. He took off that night, leaving me alone with Madeline.

We were only ten and six.

My chest constricts when I think about my older sister. She led me to Sunfire Circle, but I’m not sure it’s safe for me here anymore. Not with everything I know.

Leaving my cleaning products on the bathroomsink, I tiptoe to the open doorway, my heart racing as I peek around the corner. Gianna is dusting in the living room down the hall while Samantha mops the kitchen floors. I need to be careful not to be seen or we’ll all be in big trouble.

When I’m sure the coast is clear, I hurry down the hall and slip through the door at the end, closing it softly behind me.

I tiptoe through the room, careful not to wake him—it will be a disaster if I get caught. My heart swells as I stare down at his peaceful sleeping form. He’s safe—for now. It almost kills me to walk away, but I promised I would keep him safe until she comes back for us, and I’m determined to keep my promise.

Creeping back to the door, I press my ear against the wood to ensure I don’t get caught coming out of this bedroom. If I do, there is no doubt I’ll be punished.

Not hearing a thing, I slowly turn the handle and open the door an inch. The hallway is empty, so I quickly slip out and close the door behind me.

Keeping my head down in case Ascendant Sierra comes in to check on us, I hurry back to the bathroom, freezing in the doorway when I spot the broad muscular shoulders of Gabriel Solomon taking up space in the small room.

I gasp, my hand flying to my chest as I take a step back, hitting the corner of the door frame.

My green eyes meet his red-rimmed grey ones in the mirror, and all the blood drains from my face. I need to lower my face, avert my eyes. It’s against the rules to look a guardian in the eyes, unless you’re being spoken to directly, but I’m unable to move.

Is that a tear rolling down his cheek?

Slowly, he turns to face me.

Stay calm.

No one knows.

As terrifying as he is, there’s no denying how attractiveGabriel is, with golden hair that flops messily over his forehead, steel-grey eyes that are almost silver in certain lights, a smattering of freckles over his cheeks and nose that gives him an almost boyish charm, and a strong, chiselled jawline.

Despite his beauty, when he rakes his heavy gaze over my body, I can’t help the shiver that runs down my spine.

“What’s your name?” His voice is rough, with a gravelly edge.

“H-Hadley,” I whisper.

“Speak up,” he demands.

Swallowing down my fear, I straighten my spine. “Hadley,” I say, stronger and clearer.