The soup sat between them, no longer steaming, as Summer considered what to say next. She wanted to know when she’d had it done, and who had gone with her, and what she’d been thinking at the time. Instead, she settled on a more direct question: “Has Taured seen?”

That drew a reaction. Her mother’s expression seemed to curdle, her eyes growing dull and her lips shriveling up like dried fruit.

“Why are you acting like this?” Summer lowered her voice, though she didn’t need to; the air conditioner was groaning loudly. “When you brought me here, you told me that these people...these people were here to help us. Now you’re acting...ungrateful. Like you don’t want to be here.”

Something passed over her mother’s face—she couldn’t tell what. Then, all of a sudden, the look disappeared from her face and she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms.

“Ungrateful.” She said the word as if she were tasting it. “Taured should be grateful to me. Can’t you see the new meat I bring him?”

Her mother was purposefully staring over Summer’s shoulder. She turned around in her seat to see Taured, now sitting at a table with Feena and Jon.

“‘New meat’? That’s terrible. What’s wrong with you?” Summer was appalled. She shook her head, a sneer pulling the corners of her mouth. For months, her mother had been changing, looking different with each appearance she made at the compound. She journaled her thoughts about it to Taured and then sent them to him through the computer like a prayer. He never responded, but she knew he was reading. Now, she wished she’d asked him for advice on how to handle a situation like this. She sat up ramrod straight and practiced her leadership abilities. She doubted it would work on her mother, but it was worth a try.

“The work that you do is important. You gather lost souls and bring them to help.”

Her mother laughed. The sight of her with her eyes closed, white teeth exposed, was beautiful. The sound that her laughter made was not. Feeling cynical and raw, Summer flinched away from it. No one looked, thankfully. Everyone was too busy being nosy about the new people.

“I don’t bring them to help, Summer,” she said. “I bring them to hell. He’s brainwashed you—they’re all brainwashed.”

“Mama—”

“Yeah, I am your mother, Summer, I am. And I made a grave mistake bringing you here. I need you to listen to me, and listen carefully, okay?” Lorraine reached for her daughter, but Summer’s hands were under the table in her lap. She would have yanked her hands away, anyway, if her mama had dared touch her.