Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
On my sinful soul.
When I opened my eyes, Meister held up a needle for me to see. I resisted the urge to lash out and push it into my flesh. Meister was in control. I had learned that with him, free will did not exist.
As my mind drifted off into a kaleidoscope of dark memories and pain, I felt the familiar sting of a needle entering a vein. Then a surge of light and bliss flowed through my body, lifting me into an ethereal state, a blanket of warmth and pain-free liberty.
As if being wrapped in the safety of God’s arms, I drew in a deep breath and let my mind fill with tranquility, and dance with light and life. No stress, no pain . . . just a river of peace.
I felt the needle slip from my flesh, followed by the stubble of Meister’s jaw as he leaned over to kiss me and tell me he’d be back soon. I didn’t hear the door close when he left. I closed my eyes and fell into the sun.
I was in a forest, deep in a magical heaven. I danced among the trees, feeling the leaves flutter through my fingers, the grass soft beneath my feet. Light music floated on the air, urging my body to sway to the beat.
I loved to dance. It was my most favorite thing in the world.
I swirled, and I smiled when I saw my Rebekah enter the clearing, as beautiful as I had ever seen her. Her long blond hair was flowing down her back, and her blue eyes were bright and filled with joy.
“Rebekah,” I breathed. I threw my arms around her and held her closely to me. Rebekah laughed her sweet laugh against my ear.
“I am well, Phebe.” Her soft, delicate voice drifted over me like a prayer.
“Truly?” I asked through a tight throat. “The last time I saw you . . . what Judah had done . . . what those men had done . . .”
“Shh . . .” Rebekah soothed, stroking her hand through my hair. “I am happy, and . . .” Rebekah pulled back and turned toward the forest edge. “Come,” she instructed someone. A high-pitched giggle split through the warm night, and my heart clenched, so tightly it did not seem possible.
“Grace.” I covered my mouth to stop the sob escaping my throat. Grace ran into Rebekah’s waiting arms and held her close . . . like a child would cling to her mother.
“She found you,” I gasped, tears streaming down my face.
“She did,” Rebekah said as Grace reached out for my embrace. I wrapped the little blond girl in my arms and cried into her soft hair.
“You are safe now,” I murmured and felt Grace nod. I opened my eyes to see Rebekah watching on, such sweet love in her eyes. “Forgive me, Rebekah,” I pleaded. “For not saving you when I should have. For not protecting you when you were young. For what Judah did to you on that hill . . .”
Rebekah came closer, shaking her head. “There is nothing to forgive, Phebe. You saved Grace. We are happy now. You saved me by saving her.”
“Happy,” I cried. Happy . . . safe . . .
“Sister Phebe?”
I slowly turned around. There she stood, in a white dress, with that long blond hair and those deep dark eyes I knew so well. Our eyes met, and she smiled at me. I got to my feet, feeling the same overwhelming love build within me that I felt every time my eye lay upon her. “Sapphira,” I whispered. She had grown some since I had last seen her, reading scriptures together in the commune, lying amongst the bluebonnets in spring, hands held and smiling under the warmth of the sun. No men, no duties . . . just happiness in one another’s company. And she had grown even more beautiful, if that was possible. She ducked her head as I gazed at her. She was so shy, always had been. So quiet, but so beautiful in nature. I ran my hand through her soft hair and felt my heart flutter, then shatter apart. “I have not seen you in so long,” I said, my voice catching.
“I know.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and I caught it with my finger. It was warm, just like her. “I . . . I have missed you.” Her quiet confession tore my soul in two. In a heartbeat, I had her wrapped in my arms. She still smelled the same, still felt the same in my arms.
“I miss you too, Sapphira. So much. So much that at times I cannot breathe.”
“I wish to come back to you,” she pleaded, and held on to me tighter.
“It is not safe,” I said, crying. “Where I am is not safe for you.”