Page 80 of Prodigal Son

He should have known her, but he didn’t. She hated when he lost track of who she was. That was when he crept in on her, surrounding her. Too close!

Her hands sliced through the air as she frantically pleaded for him to stop. The moment she signed the word, stop, he did. He never touched her—only watched her with those seemingly unseeing eyes. There was a precarious thread on his control, and she sensed how dearly he fought not to lose himself to some greater power.

Why couldn’t he see her for who she was? He should recognize her. She knew he should.

“Do you not know me?” she signed with trembling fingers.

Cold hands closed over hers, and her body shuddered. Never before had he touched her. She was on the brink of tears. She could see him when he kept his distance, but the moment he drew close to her, she lost sight of him. Nothing but blackness surrounded her, anchoring her there in this dark place with the gentle, but powerful hold of some phantom hand.

“Call my name, Cybil. Say it before it is too late, before I’ve gone too far.”

It was not her name on his lips that filled her with revulsion. It was the closeness of his warm breath upon her cheek that provoked her. She tried to tug her hands away to sign for him to let go, but his hold tightened.

“Say it. You know it. Let me hear you speak it. I cannot come to you until you allow it. Speak my name. End this anguish that holds me apart from you. My soul is tortured by the infinite time you will let pass before I can truly know you. There is no call until it forms upon your lips. Say it. Call me to you, and when I hear your voice speak my name, our paths and my mind will be clear. Save me, Cybil, before I am truly lost.”

Tears trickled past her lashes. She couldn’t utter a sound for fear of permitting his wish. Part of her recognized him, but here, in her dreams, she was different.

“You’re afraid, because you’re young. But soon enough you will be grown. My soul has waded through what feels like an eternity of lies, but you are my truth. My salvation relies on you. Every day you do not speak my name I go unanswered. Every passing moon I am closer to my final death. My dreams are lost until you speak. Your voice will remind me. Show me, Cybil. Say my name. Tell me all is not lost before I give up and lose my soul to an eternal hell far worse than the one I’ve been living. Help me.”

He released her hands, and she pulled away. For what was a sanctuary for him was a prison for her.

She hated the dark and that was where he found her, deep in the shadows of her mind, buried under hours of sleep where the light of day could not reach them and she could not fully see him. But part of her unwillingly recognized him. Different from how he appeared when she’d been awake. And she struggled to comprehend that he was, in fact, the same man.

“You already know me. Trust me when I say your fear will ease with time.”

Such darkness surrounded him as it followed her. She could count more losses upon her fingers than gains. Life had been cruel and time had been slipping away since her mother died.

“The darkness overtakes those without light. You are my light, Cybil. I need you. Say my name so that I see the only path to salvation left for me.”

Years of dreams, and he always delivered the same message. She was his and he was hers.

Why, then, had she always recognized his evilness before witnessing any good? Why did he come to her in nightmares when she was alone and afraid, always cloaked in shadows, speaking only half-truths and lies? She might know him here, but she knew him out there too. He was not the same and she would not speak his name, She would not give him such power.

“Cybil! I need you!”

She cowered in the corner, folding her arms around her knees and tucking her face into the hollows of her arms. There were only small pockets of peace in this world where she could hide. Safe places to run. Playing with Dane was safe. Tending to the baby kittens with Gracie was safe. He claimed he was safe, but her dreams were not, so who could she trust, knowing full well there was sometimes a darkness that consumed him?

She was so alone, screaming in the silence for someone to notice her, to see her as something more than the sad orphan waiting for someone to claim her.

“I will claim you. You are mine. You need only to speak my name and I will hear God’s call and know his plan. Without you, I am blind. Your silence ensures I stay that way.”

His insistence weighed like a physical touch in the dark, and she cowered deeper in the shadows, hating when he read her mind and forced her to confront her fears.

“Say it, Cybil. Speak my name. Your silence is destroying me.”

Her head shook as she pulled back, avoiding his grasp, whimpering for an escape. He would never hurt her, but his desperation formed an ache in her heart. She was his relief, but she wasn’t ready. Not yet. And the longer she made him wait, the worse his fate would become.

“I need you, Cybil. Save me.”

Her body jerked back and landed hard on the floor. Moonlight doused the shadows in a silver-blue glow and she recognized her bed and toys. Her heart raced as she searched the room, but he was gone. It was only a dream.

Slipping into the hall, she quietly padded into the kitchen and wrapped herself in a cloak. At the door, she found her boots and carried them outside. Sneaking past the front gate, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her.

The cold air held the dampness of morning dew and a hint of spring. Her heart was pumping when she reached his gate and her cheeks flushed. The hinge creaked as she locked the latch. The front door was open as usual.

The kitchen was warm from the fire that had burned all night in the wood stove. As soon as she saw his door, her inner panic soothed and tension gave way to relief. She turned the knob and stilled.

Cain lay sound asleep, but he was not alone. The woman she’d met earlier filled his arms. They slept close, like puppies, entwined without a hint of light able to sneak between them.

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