Chapter 59 - The Husband I Buried

Now

I knew Luis’s parents pretty well. I’d always thought he looked like his mother, Lillian. Her hair was smoky gray now, complementing her blue eyes, but in old photographs, it was the same shade as Luis’s. He didn’t resemble Branston Tyndale, the man he’d thought was his dad, at all.

‘Does Branston know?’ I asked Luis.

‘No,’ said Luis. ‘She started dating Branston early on in the pregnancy. He thought I was his. They got married . . . social pressure, I guess. But my mom wasn’t ready to become a wife, and I don’t think she would’ve chosen Branston Tyndale if her family hadn’t pushed it.’

Lillian Tyndale had always had an independent streak I admired. I couldn’t see her being forced into marriage, but it was a different time then, when even the strongest of women were forced to make difficult choices for the sake of those around them.

‘Silas founded the Institute,’ Luis went on. ‘Long before anyone outside the community knew his name. He wanted to change the world. To help others.’

I noticed Thomas and Rebecca listening. My eyes lingered on Thomas. I didn’t know if I’d get used to thinking of him as someone other than Keith. But he wasn’t Keith. He’d borrowed that name.

Another person who’d lied to me.

Like Rebecca, or Elena, or whatever she was calling herself.

‘Who was the real Keith?’ I asked Thomas.

‘A guy from our squad,’ said Thomas. ‘He died in combat.’

My eyes drifted to photographs on the wall that I hadn’t noticed before. Glossy and recent. Luis shaking hands with a politician I recognized for their policies on education. Philanthropists. But one photo caught me off guard, the color muted and aged.

Luis as a baby, in the arms of a man I didn’t recognize.

‘Is that Silas?’ I asked.

Luis followed my gaze. ‘Yes. That’s him.’

Silas. The man I had killed in place of Luis.

Another photo showed the same man, older, sitting across from Luis at a long wooden table. They looked happy. I could see the resemblance. They had the same dimple when they smiled.

Luis glanced at the picture, then back to me. ‘That was the beginning,’ he said simply. ‘Silas was the vessel, and now that the vessel is gone, we need someone to take his place.’

‘Do you know how completely insane you sound?’ asked Thomas, unable to keep his mouth shut.

Luis looked at Thomas, regarding him. ‘Insanity and enlightenment share many similarities.’

‘Did you kill Silas?’ asked Thomas.

Luis looked at me, just for a moment. ‘No,’ he said.

I knew when my husband was lying. I’d seen him lie to my face enough times to spot it. He wasn’t lying now, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either.

I could see he wouldn’t side with Rebecca now, though. He was playing a part. Trying to get me out of her line of fire. He didn’t want to kill me, after all. Not even after what I’d tried to do to him.

‘Let me guess,’ said Thomas, ‘who better to take Silas’s place in the cult, sorry, the Institute, than his son?’ The sarcasm was thick.

‘That’s up to the members to vote on,’ said Luis, ignoring Thomas’s framing.

I noticed the look on Rebecca’s face. At a guess, she was hoping the vote would go her way, that she’d be the next ‘vessel’. Silas’s true successor.

‘We embrace who we are without moral judgment to become whole,’ said Dr. Avery. Rebecca nodded, as if she agreed with the sentiment.

‘Really?’ I said. It was a statement more than a real question.

Luis watched with curiosity. He must have known I wasn’t just going to accept whatever garbage they came up with.

‘Jung believed in integrating the shadow self with the persona to create a whole person,’ said Dr. Avery. ‘The darker aspects of who we are, meeting the face we show the world. Quite often who we pretend to be.’

‘So, you basically twisted some psychology and called it a philosophy? Why would anyone buy that bullshit?’ asked Thomas, beating me to it.

Dr. Avery didn’t react. ‘We encourage people here to innovate. To live their lives as they were truly meant to be. We invest in our people. We help them become very successful.’

I looked at Rebecca, who had been, until a few moments ago, about to be placed on trial for murder. I felt sick that she was here because of me, because of my request to transfer her to another facility.

She looked at me with a snide smile, like she knew what I was thinking.

‘We’ve found people are not driven by happiness or other social codes,’ Dr. Avery said, pacing the room. ‘They’re driven by the purpose and meaning they assign themselves.’

His words faded as I watched Rebecca.

She wasn’t listening anymore either. She was watching me, waiting for the right moment to do . . . what?

Whatever she was planning, I knew I had better be ready for it.

‘Luis,’ she said softly, her eyes still trained on me. ‘I think she’s ready.’