**
The next morning, Jacob woke up to find his mind still in turmoil over the disconcerting events of the previous day. Vivid images ran through his head, with Emily's face superimposing itself on Amanda's in his troubled thoughts. David's words were etched into his brain, playing over and over again in his head. Wiping sweat from his brow, his stomach growled noisily at him, reminding him of how little he had eaten yesterday.
His eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness, and the sun was just starting to peek its way through the blind slats as Jacob realized the other occupants of the bunkhouse were still asleep. Briefly, he wondered how long they'd been there. Were they all as brainwashed as David, or could he at least have a rational conversation with one of them? He filed that in his mind to look into later.
But for now, he needed to get ready. Brother George had promised a short visit with Emily this morning, and no matter what he had seen, the thought of being near her sent a thrill through Jacob. He jerked his boots on, pulling at the laces as he felt the familiar, not-so-patient grin threatening to spread across his face. He was trying to keep that grin away from Brother George's eyes.
As if on cue, Brother George came into the bunkhouse without knocking, making it clear that privacy was not a concept respected here. "Brother Jacob, good to see you already up and ready to take on the day," he said, eyeing Jacob with great appraisal.
"Yes, Brother George," Jacob said with a skilfully prepared smile. "I didn't want to keep you waiting. I'm sure you're a very busy man."
George seemed taken aback, his politeness making him step back, as if he was expecting a little resistance after what had happened yesterday. He was actually quite pleased to see this seeming compliance, as he truly did not like confrontation.
"I'm glad you're respectful of other people's time," George praised as he walked Jacob out of the bunkhouse. "That's tremendous growth."
On their way across to the pavilion, the crisp scent of bacon wafted through the air, making Jacob's stomach growl even louder. When they did finally reach it, Jacob's breath caught in his throat as he spotted Emily waiting for him.
Her blonde hair fluttered in the breeze, while her emerald eyes, a little glassy, drifted about as though she was meant to find something else off the pavilion. He couldn't help it; she wore a white dress and choker again, though the top appeared cut even lower than yesterday, more of her chest available than had been then.
George stood close by, his watchful eyes a constant reminder of the cult's control. The creaking of the wooden floorboards of the pavilion beneath Jacob's feet was loud in the tight silence as he made for Emily.
"Emily," Jacob whispered, drinking her in like a man parched. As he wrapped his arms around her, the smell of her hair--lavender and something else, pungent, almost medicinal--enveloped him, and for a moment the knot in his stomach loosened. The material of her dress was coarse against his skin, nothing like the soft cottons she had always worn. His head raced with the horrors he had seen, and he struggled to find words that would impart the danger they were in.
George cleared his throat and did a slight eye roll, indicating his feelings that the embrace was taking too long.
"We have a limited window," George interrupted. "I would suggest you use this time well."
Jacob nodded curtly, his jaw clenched as he fought with his frustration. He turned to Emily and his eyes were pleading. "We need to get out of here. This place, these people, they are not what we thought. They are dangerous."
Emily's eyes slitted, her face clouding in confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it once more, a flash of uncertainty crossing her features. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress in a nervous fashion while she tried desperately to correlate Jacob's words with what she was going through recently. At least the Father's words, though unorthodox, gave her a sense of direction and helped her see the world much clearer. But as her eyes finally locked with Jacob's desperate ones, she faltered; a tendril of doubt eked its way into the edges of her newly forged convictions.
She took a deep breath, and immediately, the scent of incense on her clothes sent back the soothing presence of The Father. His words fought against frantic warnings from Jacob in her head, and in an instant, she was dizzy and torn. Part of her wanted to believe Jacob, wanted to run away with him; she had never seen him so anxious. Still, the part of her whispered with every passing hour that this was where she belonged.
Jacob pressed on, the words tumbling forth in a mad rush: "I saw things yesterday, Emily. Terrible things." His voice shook, his eyes brimming with tears at the recollection of that awful scene in the woods, the things The Father had said to the women, the way Amanda had been used in front of everyone. "They're grooming you, can't you see? Trying to break you down and make you one of those... those Chosen Ones."
As Jacob spoke, Emily's eyes grew wide, a flicker of fear crossing over her face. Then she shook her head slightly, trying to clear it. She remembered yesterday how The Father had told her about Jacob's transgressions-about how he wasn't taking any of this seriously. Obviously, she could not fit Jacob's frantic warnings into anything but that he was once more making trouble for himself when he had promised to take it seriously. When she spoke, her voice was steadier, though still tinged with uncertainty.
"Jacob, please," she begged, and the weariness cut into his very soul. "I know this is all... overwhelming." Her fingers absently traced the rough wooden railing of the pavilion as if to ground her in the present moment. "But if we just... I mean, we can't abandon our path because of your doubts. We need The Father's blessing."
Jacob recoiled as if he had been hit. Incredulity was frozen upon his face. He peered deep into Emily's eyes, searching for her there-the woman he knew, his partner through thick and thin. It was Emily, over and over, distant, her gaze befogged by the cult.
"Emily, please, do you hear yourself?" Jacob begged, with every word spoken his heart breaking. "These people are twisted-they're manipulating you, taking advantage of our desires for their own sick agenda.
The gaze hardened on Emily, her determination etched in her jaw. The Father's words replayed in her mind as desperation laced Jacob's pleas. She did not understand why he was not even trying. It was as if he wished to sabotage their future.
"No, Jacob, it's you who have lost sight of our objective," Emily said, her voice firm with a newfound conviction. "I'm trying to follow The Father's teachings, to protect our future together. But you." She didn't continue, sad, as her head shook with a tinge of pity and disappointment in her eyes.
Emily took a deep breath, clutching Jacob's hands in hers. "The Father told me how you were late to your duties yesterday."
