A/N: NOT THOROUGHLY EDITED.

Chapter 15 – Three Parts to all Stories, And I've Got Another (Faith POV)

I listened to the car that Kalenah had as it drove away, as I turned towards the back of the house, peeping inside, my eyes widened when I see the woman with cold eyes inside the house.

She's smiling holding another little child like she held Andy in my dream. Her features placed in the right places, her eyes the same, her pale cream-colored skin, looks healthier, different from the dream.

I stumbled backwards, shaken. Instead of going inside, I turn towards the forest, needing a moment to think.

It couldn't be a coincidence that I had spoken to Sonya about the dream and now, here was the woman that I thought couldn't possibly be real. She was, and she was inside, in the kitchen, speaking, smiling, her pink lips moving and making Ansel laugh.

Stumbling back, unsure I head in the forest wanting some time, space, and to figure out what to do. I had money, and lots of it according to Walsh and Patricia, I – I could leave. I might not know where to go, though, I thought as I walked as far and as fast as I could into the forest. Careful so I wouldn't get injured I took small steps, making sure I didn't do something stupid like twist my ankle or hurt myself so that I would be at the mercy of the Conrads longer than needed.

It didn't make sense to me, though, the Conrads or at least Ansel knew the cold eyes lady, and was on what looked like friendly terms with her. The cold air nipping at my skin, kept me focused until I met a river, a small waterfall like with wildflowers to the very edge of the plateau, and to the left, a cave-like covering. Sitting beneath the cover, my legs pulled up towards my chest, my chin on my knees I breathed a sigh of relief. Putting my bag near me, I took my bottle of water out, holding onto it but not drinking.

Tapping a finger on the cap, I sighed loudly, and I had to wonder, what happened to Andy? She had taken him when she left the gray room; I was the one she left behind. Walsh had said that Dmitri thought I would do well at the school I was at, but now – now I didn't know, what to think as my vision remained blurred and I wept in confusion.

Shaking and not from the cold, more from anger, it was as though this was the final blow in the short months and I could handle no more.

Dmitri had lied.

Everything was a lie.

He didn't have me since I was a baby.

My parents didn't give me to him.

And yet there was still so much that didn't make sense. In the dream, I was afraid of a man, but he didn't sound like Dmitri. So how did I get with Dmitri? Why couldn't I remember anything? I brushed my long sleeve against my stuffy nose, then hiding my face against my thighs. The crying echoed in the small cave.

The more I cried, the more the hole inside my chest grew, the more it ached and the more panic I felt and as though the sky was connected to me, to my heart, and was channeling my pain, the sky darkened swiftly. From my spot in the open forest, black thick clouds rolled overhead, and rain seemed to pelt down from the sky, with tiny white balls attached.

The clear images of the wildflowers bright reds, blues, and purples sprouting from the green grass, are all battered down to the ground.

The force flattening them, and pulling back from the edges I decide to wait it out when I stick my hand out to touch the marble size balls and one pelt and stings against my bandaged skin.

The sounds of birds chirping and calls between the animals disappear and are replaced with thick pops and loud claps as the rain beats against the rocks and the waterfall river. It goes on forever, and during this raging downpour a smile – small – comes to my face.

I faced something from my book, the rain was falling and I was stuck outside to experience it. I wasn't stuck behind a thick glass watching, wondering what it smelt like? Was it cold? Did it burn your skin if the water from the sky fell against your skin?

When falling silently, did it sound different in person?

Did it change the way the flowers smelt?

All my questions answered as the smile flattered and the silent tears started again. And as the rain fell, never letting up I saw the night sky darken behind the clouds.

It had to have been hours, that I wept, smiled and wept again until finally I had no more, my sobs turned to a low mewl. Uncovering the cap from my bottled water, I realized that Dmitri had made me a fool, Sonya, and the Conrads; they were probably in on it too.

But as soon as I had that thought, the last one, about the Conrads, I couldn't make myself believe it in my heart, not completely.

Dmitri had said that Loyalist went to great lengths to convert you, but then, he lied about so much.

There were no Loyalist or Independents; out here alone I could see that. It was just hard to accept without a reason why he said all those things? Why he kept me locked away? Or more importantly, how did he get – "Fatima!" startled by Samson's voice, the bottle of water in my hand drops to the floor.

"Fatima! Are you out here – please say something?" his voice carries and I can't see him in the darkness, but he pleads with me. I want to let him go, pretend I'm not here, stay hidden, but instead of hearing Dmitri, I hear Kalenah. "No one will ever hurt you, it might be an accident, but never maliciously or purposely," the words said seriously, explicitly at the hospital before I decided to go to their home.

"Samson," I shout back, my voice echoing in the cave, a flashlight turns on and hits from left to right, then back again. "I'm in the cave," I say but the light is getting clearer, brighter. Until it's right in front of me, and Samson climbs into the cave, flicking water as he slips in.

Handing me the flashlight, he pulls out another, lighting up the cave completely, his eyes are gazing at me warily, while I'm sitting tensely with my back against the jagged rocks.

"How did you find me?" I whisper and my voice carries.

He doesn't answer right away, only dragging his eyes over my face, "Did you run away?" and I do the same to him, watching as his brows furrow and his eyes wait for my reply.

I lean my head back against the rocks, "Have you ever lied to someone?" I ask him, needing to know.

He blinks confused, before shaking his head, yet answers, "Yes, I have."

I couldn't trust Sonya; I couldn't trust Dmitri despite the fact that inside, in my heart, the connection to him was as thick and secure as three-inch thick-twined rope.

"Were you running away? Did we do something wrong?" he asked again, adding the second part and my heart was beating crashing against my chest, my stomach churning, "Do – do you think we're trying to brainwash you... or keep you inside?" my eyes widened.

"What – why?" I stutter out.

I'm watching his every reaction now, studying him, looking for the lie, for the truth, for the things I never looked at in Dmitri. Ideas I held deep inside resurface, he's out looking for me in the night, "Are – are you a Loyalist or an – or – or are you an Independent?" I ask and the hand holding the flashlight, shakes, the light dances against Samson and the wall behind him.

"A What? Did you fall or hit your head?" he asks not laughing but fully concerned, and instead of looking at my eyes, the way he always does, I see him scanning above my head and I rest back stumped, confused. "Your eyes are red... were you crying?" he asks in the silence studying my face once again before a loud white noise sound croaks from his body.

"Samson – Samson did you find Faith?" Kalenah asks frantically and my body tenses again purely on instinct and thoughts. I watch with wide eyes as Samson reaches for the black instrument inside his coat, "Mom I haven't found her yet but it's starting to hail so I've taken shelter," he lies boldfaced right in front of me.

"Oh – good – good, tell us when you leave your spot okay? Samson I don't want you getting hurt, I – I – have you crossed Faith's scent? I hope she didn't run away, I hope she just knows how much I love her – how much we all do," I blink confusedly. Loves me?

"Not yet, mom, I think the rain and then the hail washed it away," his body now is as hunched as mine, "I need to turn off the talkie don't want to waste batteries," Samson pulls the device from his face turning something on the side before placing the "talkie" as he called it on the ground.

"So you were running away," it doesn't sound like a question so I don't answer. "What did you mean when you said brainwashing?" I asked him, wondering just how much he knew.

"Don't – don't get mad okay?" his voice low and worried, his eyes avoiding mine while trying to look at me at the same time, glancing up from under thick lashes. "I – do you remember when you were sick?"

I snorted, how could I forget that? I felt like death for a week! I shout in my head, "Well – um – I put down a few books next to your laptop and it was asleep but woke up when it was jostled by the books and I sort of looked at what you were searching – and then I saw all your tabs were looking up 'Stockholm Syndrome,' so I looked up what it all meant."

My eyes widened.

"Wait don't get mad, I just – we aren't trying to keep you hostage if that what you think... it's just we're all so busy during the week with school and sports and our music that we just – you're free to go outside you know?" he stammered out frenziedly. "I didn't mean to invade your privacy Fatima you have to know that, I'm sorry for doing it, but I didn't tell the others what I saw either."

It took me a minute but when I thought over his words I realized that Samson thought, I thought that they were holding me hostage and trying to brainwash me and if he thought that... it meant that he didn't know much about my past, or anything at all. 

He thought... was this more proof that Dmitri had lied? 

But now, I had more to process. 

I don't know what happened, I was happy that Samson didn't know about my history but then I was still right where I started when I ran into the forest, on two different levels.

I was currently on three different playing fields at once, his, mine and the one in my head. Inhaling deeply, I tried to find a way to explain – to actually speak to Samson, hoping it wasn't a mistake. My grip on the flashlight rigid, turned my knuckles white, my fingers wrapped around the shaft – the nails were biting into my palm.

Samson, he looks at me, eyes serious and waiting, patient. "I've never been outside – no I'm outside right now – but before – I mean I was locked away for years," I blurt out. Then shake my head when I realize telling someone is harder than I thought it would be. So far, everyone that knew, well they knew because one adult had told another, Dmitri told Walsh. Walsh told Patricia, and so on.

But that thought is pushed aside quickly while I anticipate his response.

I expect him to laugh, or to snicker or something cruel like the boy I met that first day in class. My stomach twists in on itself and my mouth fill with saliva.

Instead, he replies surprising me, "I – I think that makes sense."

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© 2016 roxann_season All Rights Reserved  

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Alsoooo... I might post a bit more later, but I'm taking my mom to the doctor right now so I'll probably update Shattered when I get back with my mom.