Chapter 18 - The Truth Has More Sides (Kalenah Conrad POV) Pt.1

A/N: NOT THOROUGHLY EDITED!!



Chapter 18 – The Truth Has More Sides (Kalenah Conrad POV) Pt. 1

I watch with wide gray eyes as Samson lifts his chopsticks to Faith's lips, torn between rebuking my son for putting Faith on the spot, while always wanting to witness her reaction. A larger part of me is frozen, though, just holding my breath, waiting, fearful of the outcome here, running over the possibilities.


After her sickness induced reveal of her lack of trust when it came to food that I prepared, I knew this would end badly. But in my immobile reserve I gape as Samson – completely at ease – lowers his chopstick to his own mouth first, dipping it in the shrimp and broccoli sauce before placing it right at Faith's mouth, a simple comment added. He points out that he's fine after swallowing the morsel he took before Faith.


His gaze full of unhidden mirth and a coolness that was shocking but not any more than the moment Faith decided to open her mouth, leaning forward, her eyes focused on my son, the trust I see traps all my feelings in my throat, a knot growing. Did Samson see it? Not just the trust, but also the pleading in her green eyes for that same trust not to lead to her being hurt?


Blinking to clear the moisture in my eyes, I do it quickly, not wanting to miss a beat.


I have been utterly blown away when Faith closes her eyes. Actually shutting her lids, releasing a slight moan that only makes Samson smirk and get right back to eating, as though, this momentous achievement from Faith does not require praise. She ate. Hell Faith let him feed her.


On top of that, she shut her eyes, sighing in satisfaction. Instantly I'm transported back to the sickly girl that knew I was sitting in the corner of her room, that fought sleep, eyes flying open when clearly all her body wanted was to have them closed. Now, here she was taking food that wasn't sealed from Samson. Doubling back, all things throw me off about tonight.


As Faith chews the morsel of food, it actually now hits me what Samson has been trying to do, oddly, what I've done with every one of my children that didn't want to try some new dish. I tried it first, played it up and coaxed them into trying it for themselves. Only, Samson was not using the method for the same reasons. Now, he was doing it because Faith had major trust issues when it came to food, under the impression that we'd somehow use food to make her ill when that was out of the question.


Samson has been doing it from the beginning. I realize, processing it all under pressure and so when she decides to eat Chinese instead of one of her sealed meals, I make sure to serve in her line of sight, knowing that her fear came from her – Dmitri – instilled paranoia.


I listen to Faith speaking about cold eyes, confused, wondering who she was speaking of and realizing that she had not run into the forest because we forgot to cancel on all the extra children, but because of cold eyes.


As Faith scurries from the room I am unable to move, my mind still processing this new change... especially when it came to Samson, the way he behaved around Faith, the looks he gave her that he did not bother to hide.


Hitherto, they were things I knew Faith did not pick up on, but there was the fact that I'm not even sure Samson him self-realized that he saw a romantic interest in her just yet. Which for the two of them, that did ease my worries, I wouldn't want Faith to only become dependent on Samson, but I had an idea that she wouldn't let that happen.


Not when she was entirely dependent on Dmitri before, Faith wouldn't want to be in that position twice.


Nonetheless, Faith had opened up, she did not see Samson as a threat or maybe he was just able to put her at ease?


She's said she does not want to see Sonya, moreover... she's even told Samson personal information – more than she's given Ansel or me. All the worry I had that sending Samson into the forest to get her was all unwarranted but who was 'cold eyes?' I asked myself distracted.


"How'd you get her to open up to you?" I asked nonchalantly finally but Samson just toyed with his chopsticks his mind probably cluttered with all he recently found out.


He shrugged, "Fatima is unusual... but astonishing mom, she reminds me of frightened animals, in the way that if you rush them, they bolt," I wanted to snort but my son had hit the nail right on the head. That and he used a technique he must have seen me use with his younger siblings – trying a bite of food, playing it up. Same technique, different – and sad – reasons.


"Do you think that Fatima is related to aunt Cynthia?" he asked after not answering my question, which I noticed. He was deflecting, and not waiting for me to respond either, "I mean the similar green eyes, she knew Andy's name – I've never mentioned her either, and I doubt Fatima has been around any of the others for them to mention aunt Cynthia, much less Andy," he says like some kind of detective.


However impressed I am with Faith's progress now, I'm no fool to expect this reaction soon, but her progress now is overlooked by what Faith has disclosed of her past.

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Inside – before I've spoken to my husband, I don't want to discuss Cynthia with Samson, but – I'm burning with curiosity when more pieces fall into place and my heart aches, but I know that Faith is not lying.


It was bizarre but I straightaway trusted Faith when it came to cold eyes.


Instantly pondering what this new piece of information will do to our family? Walsh had said that Dmitri had said specifically that Faith should be brought to Bend, but how on Earth could he have known so much about this young girl and keep her so isolated? That was the question I asked myself each night while I could no longer easily fall asleep. Now, in a short moment, that question had been flipped on its head and was now: what harm did cold eyes pose to Faith?


I hated what Dmitri had done to this poor girl, there had to be a better way to have to protect her if that was his prerogative, but from what Faith was telling me now... cold eyes... maybe others... did they need to be under the impression that Faith was, in fact, dead? Instead of going down the mental rabbit hole alone, I shake my head needing to get to Ansel.


"Samson can you wash these dishes I need to go back to the main house, I'll be back in case Faith asks for me," I say knowing that the girl wouldn't ask for my help if she was sick much less when she was seemingly doing fine physically.


It was her emotional and mental state that worried me the most, as well as now wondering what exactly had gone down with Sonya that would make Faith feel distrustful of her. Or maybe it was Cynthia showing up? Had Faith spoken to Sonya about Cynthia?


Nonetheless, Faith wanted someone to speak too, a professional was the right choice, grateful that she was speaking to Samson, she needed someone with experience and if it weren't going to be Sonya then it would be someone else outside of this town.


Leaving the guest house, rain still tittering on the car, I enter the stiffly, the history, the stories that Cynthia gave to us when she met Ansel's brother plays in my mind just like it was yesterday.


A woman battered and nearly as confused in her mind as Faith was now, the lie of whom she was with, the name Andy would blurt out, cry for and the lies that Cynthia spun now makes my stomach turn.


The truth always had a way of coming out, but worse was that now there was so much more that was unknown to Faith's story. How had she ended up with Dmitri in a house isolated from the outside world and why couldn't she remember anything?


Parking outside the garage, the rain light, I rush off inside, knowing that my Ansel is waiting for me in the kitchen. Changed but waiting with him are Brennan, Talia, Devin, Taylor, and Javier.


"How is she?" Ansel asks but his face screws up when he reads my own face. Not wanting to discuss this in front of the children, before they can get a good look at my facial expression, I change it up.


"She's fine-"


"Where's Samson?" Brennan and Taylor as at the same time. "He's at the guest house with Faith, I'm heading back over there but I wanted to speak to your father briefly," I put out there knowing that my children would understand it was alone and make themselves disappear.


"Is he staying at the guest house?" Taylor asks conversationally enough, though I'm not fooled "Yeah, they're both so exhausted and since they're sleeping I took a moment to come here, don't worry Taylor, Samson is fine," I tell her hoping I cut off any ideas she has of going over there.


"Come on, you can watch a movie in my room with Javier," Talia getting the hint better than the rest, stands on one leg, while Javier picks her up carrying her out of the room. Taking Ansel's hands I pull him off to his office, safe and protected from any unwanted listening ears. I start pacing while he sits giving me time to get my thoughts in order, "is she really okay?" he misreads my distress.


I nod, but I just don't know where to start.


It's not that I don't believe Faith, but the alternative and truth to what she is saying, what she dreamt, is that Cynthia was with Faith. And when Cynthia escaped that horrid place she said to us she was kept when Danny – Ansel's brother – found her, she had left her own child behind. Not once mentioning that we should attempt to help her, instead, lying, saying that – "Lena what is the matter? What is wrong?" Ansel asks worked up when after a few minutes I still have not spoken.


I turn to my Ansel with a broken, desperate gaze, "She was – Faith – wasn't always locked away, isolated by Dmitri, she was with Cynthia before she was with Dmitri..." my voice shakes and Ansel looks at me like I've grown two heads, unsure and skeptical. Not that I would blame him because, again, the alternative to what Cynthia said is simply horrible. Ansel shakes his head, "That – that can't be right," but there is no real conviction behind his denial.


Because we have now put her name there, did Ansel immediately – like Samson – go to the similarities between Faith and Cynthia? Between the boy, Faith called Andy and the little boy we've watched grow?


"Faith saw her here today and that is why she ran into the forest," I tell him, "She – Faith knew Andy, she remembers him, and we don't have pictures of them up around the house, I've certainly never mentioned Andy to her? I know the children haven't?" my voice rises just a bit, higher, panicked but I cannot stop either.


"Do you r-remember – remember when Danny came over with Andy with Cynthia? The lie she told us," I call it for what it was. "That there was another grown woman, named "Fay" that she often held Andy and that was who Andy was babbling for?" my voice thick.


"Faith said the woman crawled out, took Andy but left her in that place," I cried, my whole self no worked up. "How – how could she – I would never – never – leave one of my children or any child behind like that," Ansel rose coming over to me, and wrapping me in his warm embrace.


"Do you still have her DNA on the rag, the one we asked Danny to give us?" I mumble into his chest, "Yes, you want me to have it ran against Faith's?" nodding I make a sound.


Ansel rocks us slightly before finally asking pained, "You really think she's Faith's mother?"


Pulling away, I mull over his question, my head shaking after a moment, "I'm not sure, but – I want to know what we're dealing with here because that girl is traumatized enough, if Cynthia is her biological mother, I want her protected – Faith is my priority Ansel," I warn my husband, my brow arched.


"I don't know why she wouldn't accept or go back and look for Faith, it's not like Danny wasn't accepting of Andy... no matter how I look at this, that woman left a child behind, and she's been raising our nieces and now this new child with Danny, having just forgotten Faith," I mutter my sadness quelled by rage now.


Ansel releases a grumbling type sound, stuck right in his chest, "We say nothing to my family, but we distance ourselves until we have answers," he says referring to the blood tests I'm sure. "Cynthia is an adult, Faith is the child in this situation," he tells me, letting me know exactly where our lines had been drawn.


Pleased, I take comfort in his embrace for a while longer before I return to the guesthouse. Ansel and I would not be two more adults to let Faith down; I do not believe the girl could take it. 

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