wow..can you make a character key like you have for other books? > am confused with so many people. please add who is with who if possible.

Thaddeus, Talia and Brennan Conrad : 18 years old

Samson Conrad : 17 years old

Caterina and Paige Conrad: 15 years old

Harleigh (adopted) Rubin -Conrad: 17 years old

Samantha Conrad (adopted) : 10 years old

Simon/Amy Conrad: 5 years old.

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Brennan is with Devin.

Talia is with Javier.

Harleigh is with Thaddeus.

Devin (a girl), Taylor and Javier are brother and sisters.

A/N: NOT EDITED. Thank you all of you that are reading this story and voting and commenting, I know you're trying like crazy to figure out what the Conrad's are but in time everyone... that being said... lets get back to Faith and Samson in the cave...

Chapter 16 – Three Sides to All Stories, Is This The Truth? (Faith POV)

If there was one thing I was learning, it was that knowledge and freedom courted one another. I thought that Dmitri had kept me educated in his own way, but I was beginning to realize that my assumption was completely indecorous.

'If you come as softly as the wind beneath the tree's you will hear what I hear, see what sorrow sees,' the words from the poem she read just two weeks prior come to mind as Samson sits across from me the picture of ease and patience.

"I – you – I wasn't expecting that," I stumbled a bit looking away, trying to clear my head of the fog now, the hype and anticipated reaction I was expecting.

Samson gives me a sad grin, "I watch you –" he blurts out, eyes widening, "I mean not like a creepy stalker or anything but more like your reactions, you uhm – most times gaze at things like you've never seen them before. Things that even if you lived in Switzerland, you would've seen then," I nod tiredly.

"How long – I mean you don't have to tell me but – have you been," he fumbles trying to find the right words.

With a sigh that echos, "Since I was a baby," his eyes widen and the hand holding the flashlight wobbles. "What?"

My mind goes back to my dream, the woman in the house I saw today, proof that I wasn't dreaming. "I thought – well I was told that it was since I was a baby, but uhm – lately I'm not so sure," I reply cryptically. I don't know how much is too much, but right now as it looks like Samson isn't breathing, I hold off.

"You've been inside, since you were a baby, you've never gone outside? Why not didn't you want too?" his brows are smashed together, and his forehead crinkles.

"The person who had me, told me things, untrue things and I thought that-" I stop abruptly as my stomach turns, and acid fills my mouth, my eyes water and telling him I was inside all my life is easier than the next part, because to me... the truth of why I never sought freedom is pathetic.

"Hey – you – Fatima, you don't have to tell me if you're not ready you know..." Samson says quietly. "I mean unless you're running away and you won't get another chance to tell me, but we – all of us – don't want you to leave us," the rain falling against the river and stone sounds louder than his whispered plea.

"I lived on a mountain, in a large house, larger than yours, and I thought – I was told that the air was poisonous, that I would need a mask and body suit to go outside so I uhm – never thought to escape." I'm thankful for the partial darkness. The flashlights give us some light, but it's so low that I can almost pretend that Samson can't see how red my face gets, or how truly idiotic I am for believing everything I've just whispered.

"So an adult told you that it wasn't safe and you listened?" he says after a moment, "My mom told me not to go climbing against these sharp rocks when I was about ten years old, I didn't listen, and I fell and broke my leg. I should've heeded her instructions and after that, for a while at least I listened too."

I look away trying to put his comment into perspective to what I just revealed, "I'm not saying that they're the same thing, but I'm saying that children listen to adults, and if the person that took you was an adult, to a child, that power is unimaginably great."

He doesn't blame me.

It takes me a minute to piece together my shattered expectations.

I stare – unseeing in a way at – Samson as he opens his mouth multiple times and closes it while I try unsuccessfully to put together my thoughts, but with all the new shapes, all the pieces, I find it difficult. He doesn't speak badly about Dmitri and he doesn't make me feel inferior or simpleminded.

"How did you – I mean you weren't on the news – how were you found? Or released?" he finally asks, and oddly I'm thankful for his question. It's one I can answer, compared to the new questions in my mind that I cannot.

Lips pursed, I find a spot behind his head on the concrete and focus my attention there, while still keeping a close look at his eyes, I tell myself that I can spot a liar but the truth is, after years of being lied too, I hoped I could, but I probably couldn't. "The person that had me, would leave the house in a suit and mask, he said they were expensive and that he couldn't find one for me until I grew up because kids didn't have them. On my birthday, after nearly two months," my lips shake and my eyes fill with pain, as my heart clenches, "I thought he forgot me, he never was away for that long before, there was no food and I thought maybe he had gotten hurt and that I was going to die alone – and – Walsh came. I could see the car through the trees, the light of it, and I was so relieved because – because-"

"Because you thought the person – he didn't forget you after all," I nodded woodenly as more tears I thought I didn't have came down silently.

"So Walsh... he found you?" I nodded. "How long ago?" I wiped at my face with the ends of my sleeve and already soaked, they felt cold against my warm heated cheeks. "On my seventeenth birthday, July third, four months ago."

The spot on the wall I abandoned quickly for Samson's blue eyes was no smaller compared to his wide eyes, his jaw slacked and hanging. Shaking his head, I tilted mine to the side, watching, imagining what could possible be going on inside his head as he stared at me in a way that felt like he wasn't staring at me at all.

"He – it was a man that had you?" the rain slows down, but Samson still whispers.

Oddly I didn't want to bring Dmitri here, to ruin my new experience, but he was going to be with me my whole life, even though he was gone now, so I nodded and Samson continued, "He would leave you alone?"

"Never for two months," I defend Dmitri.

"So... since you were a baby, you only interacted with him?" I nodded. Each detail I relieved I noticed that the shock and disbelief of what I'm telling Samson is shown right on his face. The surprised reaction gives me a weird settling my churning stomach feeling inside, but I can't place a name on it. It's not unpleasant, but it still unsettles my mind.

What I really need to get to the bottom of though, is the woman, the one I saw this afternoon, "It's nearly eleven, you aren't running away, and it's starting to get cold, do you want to start heading home?" he asks me unsure, unmoving.

I bite my lip, resting my chin back on my knees, looking at the outside of the small cave, "No one is angry at you, I mean we were really worried you ran away, we tried to call but I don't think cell phones have reception up here in this cave..."

"How did you even get up here? It's nearly a two hour hike from the house?"

I swallowed thickly lifting my head to look at him, "I was afraid – distracted and kept walking then, I was here and the sky just changed, morphed," again I hold pieces back.

He nods, looking out before turning back to me, "Was it – was it your therapy session? Mom said it was hard on you, well she told the police that," he said reluctantly but his words only caused alarm to flash on my face and my heart to race.

"We – we aren't trying to keep you hostage," Samson blurts out, again lifting one hand up, "it's just with the arsonist still out, mom thought that someone kidnapped you or that you were in danger, that or you ran away because something upset you during your session," I rest back inhaling deeply, but I'm sure its more like gasping until I calm once again. But his words just remind me of the turmoil I felt when left Sonya's office, when I walked towards the back of the house, exhausted, and saw the woman with cold eyes.

Rubbing my head, the ache starting again, I pull my bag over to me, reaching for my medication, across from me Samson hands me a new bottle of water, "This is for you, so you don't get too wet and sick again," I gulp down my pain meds and glance at the loud noise maker. Tired and actually getting cold, I look undecided at Samson.

"No one is going to hurt you if that's what you think, but there are more kids at the house," I glance at him, wondering if the lady with the cold eyes and Andy are at the house. I wasn't ready to see the woman with cold eyes again.

"I can't go back to the house, I don't want too," in a moment of defiance. "Okay, well – how about – what if I ask mom and dad to let us stay at the guest house?"

When I didn't immediately shoot down his idea, "Mom can pack us each a bag, and we will all stay there, while everyone is in the main house? How's that?"

"I can't leave you in this cave Fatima," he said his words reminding me of Walsh. Nodding slowly, he exhaled in pure relief, the lines on his forehead, all but vanished.

Lifting the talkie from the ground, my mind went where it always went, why didn't Dmitri give me one of those and keep one for his self? We would have been able to keep in contact that way.

With a quick chirp, the small green light on the talkie lights and Samson talks, "Hey mom, I found Fatima, can you pack her and I a bag so we can stay at the guest house? You too? Oh and bring some food I'm starving!"

"You found her? Oh – oh is she okay? Make sure she doesn't get too wet Samson, Faith just got over that cold, I don't want her getting sick again," Kalenah moaned.

In the dimly lit cave Samson rolled his eyes, "Forget about me getting wet," he snorted but Kalenah didn't respond. The white noise chirped, "Hey and mom you remember when I was ten and you told me not to go climbing by the rocks? Can you drive up and meet us by the side of the road by the entry sign?"

"What are you doing all the way over there? How did Faith get up there it's nearly a two hour hike... oh no – Samson," she whispers as though doing so will prevent me from hearing her.

"She wasn't hurt was she?" I'm taken aback by her concern for me.

"Mom – just meet us up there, it's going to take us forty-five minutes to reach that spot, but nearly two hours if we take the long way home, and you don't pick us up," he says tired.

Tuning the rest of the conversation out, I lift the poncho type raincoat that's much too large for me over my head, before following Samson and crawling out of the cave. When I'm out, he stands in front of me, with his hand out holding for me to take. "It's okay, I just don't want you to get hurt," he says again.

"What if you fall and take me down with you?"

The light drizzle tapping against the plastic covering me is over taken by the loudness released from Samson as he throws his head back laughing, "Why are you always assuming I'll be taking you down with me?" I don't have an answer for that, but then again, I realize I do. In my heart, I know why.

"Maybe if I stick with you, I'll be staying afloat," he says and as I flash my light on his face I see it's red but his eyes are serious. Pushing his hand out once more, waiting for me to take it, I flicker the flashlight over his upturned hand before deciding to take it as well.

It's a silent – nearly forty minutes – trek back until finally we hit a path, "It's only ten minutes walk from here," Samson alerts me and even though we're on the dirt path, which is stable, less rocky, slippery or dangerous but Samson doesn't release my hand. But tired now, he does slow down for me, and the rain has finally stopped, or I think maybe the umbrella created by the branches high above us create that belief. Unsure, I sigh, "You okay?" he asks but doesn't stop walking.

"Yeah, hungry, tired, worried," I whisper out and those words make him stop. "I won't tell anyone Fatima what you've told me, I didn't tell anyone what I saw on your computer, not even mom and dad, and I won't tell them what you've told me now," he swears.

My stomach stirs again, unpleasant, "I – I don't want to see the woman with the cold eyes again," I tell him and with the flashlight on his face I see the confusion.

Join the club I think much too bitterly and shame burns my face. For the most part Samson had been kind.

Angry now, I pull my hand from his and turn abruptly on the path, heading out before him, until his stride matches mine effortlessly, and when we break out of the forest, parked right near the side is the same car that Kalenah and the drizzle I had assumed stopped is once again hitting my raincoat noisily.

The headlights of the car – nearly a neon white – shine brightly at us, and before we can take a step towards it, turning our flashlights out, the driver side door opens and Kalenah, with one hand above her forehead, comes rushing towards Samson.

Or so I thought.

Brushing right by him, she stops wrapping her arms around my wet frame, shaking, "Oh Faith I thought – I knew I should've come with you inside – I just – the flowers – I'm so sorry," she rambles on and I have no idea what for.

"Thank you Samson for risking your life in the hail to find Fatima," I hear Samson himself mutter mockingly before one of the car door closes. "Why – were you trying to run away?" Kalenah asks me and tired as I am, my guard down so low now, I shake my head.

"The woman with cold eyes was sitting with Ansel, I got scared and ran," I answer and wish that I had turned my flashlight on to get a better look at Kalenah when I told her. With just the light from the car, I she pulls away, blinking confused, "What lady – cold eyes?"

I nod, with a sigh, "is she still at the house?"

Kalenah takes a step back, then glances between the car and I, "I – I thought you didn't want to stay at the house because of all the kids?" she points towards the car.

"She's had more children," I say with a nod but again Kalenah still seems puzzled, throwing her arm around my shoulder, she guides me to the front seat opening the door and letting me into the warmth. Then the lovely aroma of spices hits my nostril and my mouth waters, "Thanks for picking up Chinese mom," Samson says in the back.

And with a little jerk, I lay my head against the window watching as the trees hidden in the darkness blur past us, until we are on a road that even in the darkness looks familiar and instead of going on, the left path, the one that leads to the main house, we take the right, and head to the guest house. The ride silent, I follow Kalenah woodenly with a bag of my clothes that she packed for me at Samson's insistent.

I'm shown to the second floor, to a room right across from Samson, "You shower up, and I brought some of your sealed food, you can choose what you want after, just come down okay sweetheart," Kalenah says kindly and calm as ever. Trudging into the bathroom, wrapping my bandages on my arm to they don't get wet, I start getting teary eye when different words crash around my mind, 'I can't leave you here Fatima.' The words are repeated, broken and changed but it's strange because I can't make them change their meaning to something negative when placed together.

Cold eyes left me somewhere.

Dmitri never stayed with me on the safe he always left me.

I wash robotically, wondering how long I had until I had to face the woman with cold eyes? Then I thought of Andy, was he at the house too? How – what did he look like now?

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I didn't know what to expect at the moment, when with a stomach full of trepidation, and a few decisions made, I walked down the stairs. "Slow down Samson," Kalenah chided him as at the small table he shoveled food into his mouth. When I'm on the bottom step, a small creak of the floorboard gives me away, and both mother and son look up, smiling at me.

"Samson why don't you go eat in your-"

"He can stay," I blurt out and stiffen all at once. Shocked blue and kind understanding blue eyes are reflected back at me between them both. Kalenah starts to shake her head, "Faith, we need to talk-"

"I told Samson about never being outside, living in the house until Walsh came to get me out," I reply tightly, but Samson just nods, like I told him something simple, something sweet. "You – you – she – you know?" Her eyes dart between Samson and I, alarmed and concerned.

He nods, and starts eating what I see is brown rice, broccoli and shrimp in some milky sauce. Lost in the plate of food, the smell simply mouthwatering, Samson moves his chop sticks around, clamping one large shrimp – almost the size of my finger – lifting it towards me, right near my mouth and old habits kick in. Alarmed I freeze, my eyes widen, but calm as ever, Samson makes a show of bringing the chop sticks to his mouth. Biting from the shrimp, dipping it into the sauce again, he brings it to my lips.

His mouth chewing, he licks his lips, his tongue darts out to the corner of his mouth licking away some sauce, and I glance between the shrimp he took a bite from and his mouth.

Watching Samson swallow, he smiles slyly, "See... I'm fine, which means you will be too," his words disarm me and just as I'm opening my mouth tentatively, "Wait!" he pulls the chopsticks away, "are you allergic to seafood?" I blink, before audibly closing my mouth and shaking my head.

"Okay good, just checking," the shrimp is right at my lip, my eyes on his, the morsel of food warm and lovely against my tongue, he pulls his chop sticks away, returning to his plate, leaving me to chew privately. I close my eyes enjoying the first bite of solid food I'd had since the fire. All the spices, heavenly – I moan a bit with a long sigh. Chewing, swallowing until I finally open my eyes, to Samson smirking down at his plate and Kalenah gazing at me with watery eyes, her jaw slack.

"I – I brought you your sealed powdered meals... but – we have extra Chinese – do you want some of it instead?" She stammers out.

I nod woodenly, the taste of the shrimp still remains in my mouth, and my belly craving more, I wait patiently watching with a hawks gaze as Kalenah dishes out some rice, right from the carton and shrimp and broccoli as well. Making sure that she didn't tamper with the food in anyway, "Fork or chopsticks?" she asks bringing both.

Not very skilled with chopsticks like Samson, I reach over for the fork before I look into Kalenah's shocked eyes, I lick my lips because this is the real test, her reaction to what I'm going to say now will help me.

Going with my gut, the unease I've felt with information I've shared with this person does not sit well with me, "I don't want to see Sonya anymore." 

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© 2016 roxann_season All Rights Reserved

YES! Breakthrough! Now hopefully Samson can give some insight on who the woman is. Is Unknown watching them in the cave? Is his/her POV the third one? Will my questions be answered with another chapter before tomorrow? lol anyways thanks for the update. haha... sorry it wasn't as soon as you would've liked, I slept the day away even though I didn't want too.

I think Samson is like a soulmate only in a non~sexual kind of way, like the person who guides you to becoming a better if not the best part of yourself and as you are on the journey they also learn more about themselves or heal their wounded souls. Loved this comment, it's sorta where they are right now to be honest.

I have to go back to see who is the woman she saw talking to Ancel and how is she so sure that it is the same person when in her dreams their face was distorted. Yes she said it was distorted but it was like a puzzle, and the pieces just fit in her mind. I probably didn't explain correctly what I meant.