The difference was Rafe. And that was something she’d need to consider a lot further.

For now she took some of their strength. “So. Let’s start with the main characters in this tale of the dark side.”

FIFTEEN

GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA

SUNDAY, APRIL 16, 7:50 P.M.

Rafe slid his hand over Mercy’s thigh under the table, giving her a supportive squeeze. “You don’t need to do this.”

Mercy slipped her hand into his, holding on for dear life. “Yes, I do. It’s time.” She squared her shoulders because this wasn’t going to be easy. “I don’t remember anything before Eden,” she started. “Gideon does, a little, but from my earliest memories my mama was called Rhoda. Her real name was Selena. Selena Reynolds. She told me that right before she died.”

“Then we will get justice for Selena Reynolds,” Rafe said softly. “And for you and for all the others that they abused. I promise.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to see the same determination on each of the faces around the table. “My mother was married to a man named Amos when we first arrived.”

“Married the very next day,” Gideon said. “She was told that it was against the laws of Eden that a woman be unmarried. It presented too much temptation to the men of the compound. But she got lucky, because Amos was a good man.”

Mercy nodded. “I think he honestly believed in the Eden principles—you know, purity of living, back to the basics, nature’s way, and all that. He believed in God and the Bible. Sometimes he didn’t agree with the Founding Elders, but he was never disrespectful. He told me once that no one place and no one person or group was perfect. That what we did when no one was watching was the true mark of a person. Amos was kind. Even after Gideon left and Amos was punished by Ephraim taking Mama for his own wife, he was kind. He missed her, of course, but he promised her that he’d take care of me and he did. He woke me up in the morning, traded furniture with the ladies for chores like making my clothes, darning our socks, things he couldn’t do himself.” She found herself smiling. “Although he tried. He was really bad at it.” She sighed. “When I was almost twelve, he came home after building houses all day, so angry. Angrier than I’d ever seen him.” She looked at Gideon. “He cried that day, because he’d just been told that Ephraim was going to marry me.”

André blinked. “When you were twelve?”

Mercy had forgotten that he didn’t know about Eden. “Yes. Girls married at twelve. A lot of the men waited until the girls were older to . . . you know.” She aimed a sideways glance at Zoya, who patted her shoulder, sympathy in her brown eyes.

“They waited to consummate the marriage,” Zoya said. “I get it. But Ephraim didn’t wait.”