Authors: Stacy Claflin
"Me too." Zoey nodded. "Macy would want to hear from you too. Maybe I can get some of her other friends to write letters too. Think of how she would feel if she was out there and read those? It could be a 'begging Macy to come back' campaign. We can let her know that no matter what the news says, we haven't stopped believing."
Alyssa nodded, taking a deep breath. "When you put it that way, how could I not?"
Locked
Macy heard something shoved against the bedroom door. Chester was locking her in there for the rest of the day. Rebekah had been ordered to return to school not speaking about Macy's whereabouts. Chester didn't want anyone to have the impression that he couldn't control his family. Not when he was working so closely with Jonah and the other prophets.
Macy looked at the window, already knowing that it was nailed shut.
"Don't make a sound while I'm away. Do you hear me?" Chester called.
"Yes."
"Good. I'll be back when I get back. If your mom gets here before me, you're not to leave the room. Even if she opens the door. Am I understood?"
"Yes." Macy sat on her bed, listening to the sounds of his footsteps. First, he went up and down the hall and then he went into the living room. She heard the squeak of the fire stove door opening followed by a sizzling sound. Had he put the fire out with water? The house would freeze without that.
Of course he wouldn't want her comfortable while being punished. In fact, she was surprised that she was allowed in her room. He probably had something else in mind for when she really acted up.
This was just a warning.
Finally, she heard the front door close. She peeked through the curtain and watched as he walked away. It looked like he was talking to himself. Big surprise. He loved the sound of his own voice.
Even though she was locked in the room, it was a relief to be away from him. She actually would have preferred to go to the school with Rebekah. It had been so nice to talk with Luke, although it didn't look like that was going to happen again. After Chester's tantrum, Rebekah would be sure to keep Macy away from all boys.
Maybe Macy could find a way to speak with him when Rebekah wasn't looking. Surely there would have to be times that could happen. They shared a desk; they would have to speak sometimes.
It seemed like Luke had wanted to say more to her, and Macy intended to find out what. Would he be willing to find a way out of the community? It couldn't be sealed perfectly tight. If people could escape Alcatraz, then it had to be possible to get out of this place.
Or was she dreaming too big? Was she making too much out of her interaction with Luke? She sat on the bed, going over every detail of their interaction.
Even if she wasn't able to talk with Luke again, Chester couldn't stop her from making friends with the girls, could he?
The worst part was that she didn't know what would set him off. Even Rebekah, who was obviously a dedicated member of the community, hadn't expected him to be angry about Macy talking with a boy. If she knew the rules and he still caught her off guard, what would throw him into his next rage?
Macy would have to be extremely careful. Sometimes he blew up over such insignificant things that the only explanation was he wanted to explode, and took any excuse he could find.
That was it.
Maybe he wasn't mad about Luke at all. What if he'd had a frustrating morning with Jonah and the other prophets? If any of them had said or done anything to embarrass him, it would've been enough to send him into a fit. But being that he wanted to impress them, he wouldn't have taken it out on them.
He would have waited until he got home, looking for the first halfway reasonable excuse.
That would explain him blowing up about Luke.
Macy got up and walked around the room. How long was Chester going to leave her in there? Until dinner? Until the nightly meeting? He wouldn't leave her locked up through that.
Everyone
was expected to be at the meeting. Except maybe those who were being shamed. Macy wasn't sure about that.
Chester had sounded bent on keeping the "indiscretion" a secret, so maybe he was worried about what everyone thought of him that he would actually protect Macy from a shaming.
Something could be heard outside. It sounded like it was in their yard. Macy moved aside the curtain and saw someone walking toward their house. She narrowed her eyes, focusing. It was hard to tell with everyone wearing white. It was a woman, Macy could tell because of the bun.
Whoever it was walked right through the front door. Why not? There was no lock.
Did the lady even know that Macy was there? Or was she coming just to see her? Footsteps sounded like they were headed her way. Macy's heart raced. She backed away from the door, pushing herself against the dresser. Her breath caught as she heard something scrape against the hall.
Whoever it was, she was moving whatever Chester had pushed against her door. Macy looked around for something to grab if she needed to fight. She saw some scissors and took them, holding them behind her back.
The doorknob turned and Macy looked for a place to hide. There was no wasted space in the room giving her any place to slide under or behind. Her pulse beat in her ears, drowning out the sound of the door opening.
She shook as the door opened. It took her a moment to register that Eve stood in the doorway.
"What…what are you doing here?" Macy asked, nearly out of breath.
Eve smiled. "Good afternoon, Heather. I thought you could use some company."
Macy squeezed the scissors. "How did you know I was in here?"
"Your dad mentioned that you could use some guidance."
"He did?"
She smiled, not coming any closer. "He did. I'm sorry you had a rough morning. Can I see your hand?"
Her hand? Right, her sore hand. "Sure." Macy set the scissors down as quietly as possible, and walked toward Eve holding out her right hand.
Eve took her hand and looked it over. "It does look a bit swollen. I don't think it requires staying home from school, although it is your dad's call as head of the household." She stared into Macy's eyes.
Macy didn't say anything, but she held Eve's gaze, not wanting to appear guilty. She hadn't done anything wrong.
"I want to show you something. Is that all right with you?"
Macy's heart sank. Was this going to be worse than being locked up?
"You're not in trouble, dear Heather. It's going to help you find understanding."
That didn't help her to feel any better. But what other option did she have? She nodded.
"Good. Do you need to use the toilet before we leave? I don't imagine that you were able to use it before I got here."
"Yes."
"I'll wait for you in the living room." Eve turned and left the room.
Letting out a silent sigh of relief, Macy followed her, but then went through the kitchen when Eve went into the main room and stood in front of the wood stove, holding her hands in front of it.
Good luck warming up
, Macy thought.
When she got outside, Macy noticed that the temperature had dropped since she had been out last. She hurried into the outhouse, which wasn't much warmer, and went back inside. She was sure to wash her hands in the sink, aware of their obsession with cleanliness.
Eve smiled at her again when she came into the living room. "Are you ready?"
Macy paused, wishing she had a coat to take with her. Why did they insist on walking around in the cold winter without them? Didn't people get sick or worse, die? There was a reason that people wore coats, and it wasn't fashion. Not in the snow.
"Come on."
Macy hurried and went outside with Eve, shivering as soon as the frosty air hit her skin. She struggled to keep up with Eve who was walking fast—because of the cold? Or was it because she thought she was important, being married to the head prophet?
They went down several streets before they stopped in front of an odd-shaped building. It was almost round. Macy followed Eve around to the other side to a door.
Eve opened the door, but didn't go in. Macy gave her a questioning look.
"You need to go in on your own."
"Why?"
"Going in there, you'll find what you're looking for. If you're blessed, you'll see a vision into your future. Not everyone does their first time, but being Chester's daughter, I wouldn't be surprised in the least if you did. Go on."
Macy looked back and forth between Eve and the doorway. She couldn't see anything inside.
"Hurry, before it gets dark. And take this." Eve pulled out a candle, lighting it without even putting the candle down. She handed it to Macy.
Macy's throat felt dry as she took the candle.
"I'll be waiting out here for you. Take as long as you need."
Macy took a deep breath and walked toward the door, her pulse quickening.
When she entered the building, she gasped in horror.
Visions
Macy stared at the room, afraid to go inside. She held her breath and shook, this time it wasn't due to the chilly air.
Eve pushed her forward and then closed the door behind her.
The room was mostly dark, but the candle lit it better than she had expected because every inch of the walls and ceiling were covered in thousands of mirrors. She looked around, seeing herself and the candle flame everywhere she looked. The mirrors were of every size imaginable, each one reflecting off each other.
She didn't just see one image of her, she saw many. Why had Eve brought her there? Was this some kind of torture? The candle and her white garb made the room even creepier. It reminded her of a scary movie—which was probably where Jonah had gotten the idea for this place.
Had Eve been serious when she said that Macy might have visions in there? Was that supposed to be a joke, or did Eve really think people could see into the future with all the mirrors?
As she moved around in a little circle, the flame cast shadows all around. She could imagine going crazy in that room. That had to be how people saw visions. Was she supposed to stay in long enough to go insane and see visions? Of what—her future? A vision of how to escape would be nice, but that wasn't going to happen.
She stopped moving and stared at the reflections—which were a lot with the mirrors playing off each other. Even though she wasn't moving any longer, some of the images appeared to be. Was it because of the flickering flame or the reflections going on into infinity?
Or was she losing her mind already? Was it supposed to work that fast? No, it was probably because Chester had been working on her. She'd been locked in the barn cellar, dealt with Chester's threats and his locking her in Heather's room. Not to mention forcing her to cut and color her hair and everything else he had done.
She never knew what to expect because when he seemed to relax, a blowup wasn't far off.
Macy was almost jealous of Heather. She'd been able to get away from him. But where was she now? The last diary entry Macy had read, Heather was about to be taken away to a mental institute, removing Chester of his parental rights.
It was too bad they hadn't taken things a step farther and locked him up. They must not have found any proof of him killing his wife. Heather had been certain something horrible had happened to her mom, but no one would listen to her.
Chester knew how to get what he wanted, so it was no surprise that he had found a way to avoid being discovered having anything to do with whatever had happened to Karla.
As Macy stared into one mirror, she swore she saw the image of someone else join the hundreds of her in it. She jumped in surprise. She looked around the room, spinning in a circle. Her skin crawled. She was alone.
It had to have been her mind playing tricks on her. Maybe thinking about Chester wasn't the best thing to do while in the creepy room. She tried to stare at the floor, away from the trillions of images of her, but she couldn't. Her eyes pulled her to look up. Part of her was drawn to the images.
The reflections jumped as the flame flickered from her spinning around moments ago. She was adjusting to the many images, not finding them so creepy. She stared into her own eyes in one particularly large mirror. There seemed to be an infinite number of her.
It was actually kind of interesting. Looking at so many of her, trailing back like a slinky. A human slinky. But not just one. Due to all of the mirrors, there were countless reflections of her slinky-self from various angles.
She stared at the image directly in front of her. It narrowed its eyes as Macy did. It moved the candle up when she did. It scratched her nose when she did. Then it smiled.
Macy froze. She was sure she hadn't smiled. Not only that, but she felt like she was being watched. Of course she was being watched. She stared at the one that had smiled, waiting to see if it would do anything else.
Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. That was the only explanation. There was no way her reflection could smile on its own. Why hadn't she paid closer attention to the other images? Then she would know if any of them had smiled or if it had been just the one.