Page 44 of Body and Soul

“Same time next week?” I confirmed.

“Yes, I’ll be here.” He paused, vulnerability flashing across his features. “Thank you again. I know this won’t be easy, but I feel ready to face it.”

Pride swelled in my chest, tempered by the knowledge that the road ahead would be long. Change never came easily, especially when confronting dark parts of oneself. But Alexander had taken the first step, a victory in itself.

As he walked away, my attention turned to a figure in the lobby. A man I didn’t recognize, exuding a calm intensity that put me on edge.

I approached him, my steps measured despite the unease prickling along my spine. “Can I help you?”

The man rose, his movements fluid. Up close, I saw faint lines etched around his eyes, silver threading through dark hair. He extended a hand. “Dr. Laskin, I presume? I'm Special Agent Valentine with the FBI.”

I nodded, my mind racing with possibilities. An FBI agent showing up unannounced was never good. Had one of my clients drawn attention? Was this about my family’s questionable dealings? I concealed my thoughts behind a mask of professional interest. “What can I do for you, Agent Valentine?”

“Dr. Laskin,” he began, “I hope to discuss a sensitive matter.”

“Of course, though I must admit I'm not sure how I can assist the FBI. My work deals with the mind, not the law.”

Valentine smiled faintly, though his eyes remained sharp. “I assure you, the matter is within your expertise. It concerns your time with the Children of the Light.”

A chill ran down my spine at the mention of the cult. “My involvement was a long time ago, and I was a child. I fail to see how I could help.”

“I know you're not involved anymore, Dr. Laskin. But you have unique insight. Most others from the cult are either too afraid to come forward or have disappeared. Anything you can share would help.”

I stared at Agent Valentine, weighing my options. The memories of my time with the Children of the Light were buried deep, locked away in a part of my mind I rarely accessed. But he wouldn’t leave until I gave him something.

With a heavy sigh, I gestured toward my office. “Please, come inside.”

As we settled in, I clasped my hands tightly. “What exactly do you want to know?”

Valentine leaned forward. “We’re looking for a man named Ezekiel Sojourn, legal name David Cohlier. What can you tell me about him?”

I closed my eyes briefly, clenching my jaw. It had been a long time since I thought about my father. “Ezekiel is a charismatic man, a man of God and family values. That’s what his followers would tell you. The truth is less pleasant. He once believed in his teachings, but now he only cares about power and control, going to shocking lengths to maintain it.”

I leaned back, my gaze distant as I dredged up buried memories. “He’s a master manipulator, twisting perceptions until his followers can’t see the truth. He preys on the vulnerable, the lost, the broken. He offers them a sense of belonging, of purpose, of salvation. But it's all a lie, a carefully crafted illusion designed to keep them under his thumb.”

Agent Valentine nodded, his expression grim. “We've seen it before. Jim Jones, David Koresh, Marshall Applewhite. Menwho use religion as a weapon, as a means of control. But knowing it and proving it are two different things.”

“Ezekiel is smart,” I warned. “He's been at this a long time, and he knows how to cover his tracks. His followers would die for him, kill for him, without a second thought. They're so deeply entrenched in his web of lies that they can't see the truth anymore, even when it's staring them in the face.”

I thought back to my own childhood, the years spent under Ezekiel's oppressive rule. The constant fear, the unrelenting pressure to conform, to obey without question. The punishments meted out to those who dared to step out of line, to question the unquestionable.

“He's not a religious leader to them,” I continued. “He’s their protector. For many, he’s their family. Their only family.”

Agent Valentine leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. “That's what makes men like Ezekiel so dangerous. They exploit the basic human need for connection, for belonging. They twist it into something dark and toxic until their followers can't imagine life outside the cult.”

I nodded, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. Talking about Ezekiel, about the Children of the Light, always left me feeling drained, as if the act of remembering sapped the strength from my bones.

“Ezekiel is particularly adept at targeting the young,” I said, my voice heavy with the weight of memory. “Children who are lost, who feel like they don't fit in. He offers them a place to belong, a family that will accept them unconditionally. By the time they realize the true nature of the cult, it's often too late. They're in too deep, too afraid to leave.”

Agent Valentine's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “We've had reports of missing children, runaways who were last seen in the company of known cult members. We suspect Ezekielmay be using them for some kind of ritual or ceremony, but we haven't been able to confirm anything.”

A cold knot of dread settled in my stomach. I knew all too well the kinds of rituals Ezekiel was capable of, the twisted acts he justified in the name of his so-called faith. The thought of innocent children being subjected to the same horrors I’d seen… It made my stomach turn.

The dread gnawed at me, tightening my throat, my hands curling into fists on the armrests of the chair. Agent Valentine’s words blurred as the weight of memories pressed down, pushing at the walls of control I’d so carefully built.

The meat. The blood. The taste of copper and dirt on my tongue.

I swallowed thickly, the taste of bile rising in my throat. I couldn’t let it happen again. I couldn’t—

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