It wasn’t a question, and was phrased so matter-of-factly that it helped Mercy go on. “No. He didn’t. He had a number of other wives, so it could have been worse for me, but it was bad enough. And that everyone knew that he was a brute and did nothing to stop him made it worse. They were all complicit.”

“Even Amos,” Gideon gritted.

“Even Amos,” Mercy agreed. “Anyway, I’d made Ephraim angry one day and he . . . well, it was enough to spur Mama to action. She was desperate and made a deal with DJ Belmont. He went into town every week or so to trade for supplies.” She didn’t have to elaborate on the nature of the deal. She could see that everyone understood. “DJ was twenty-one at the time. He’d inherited the responsibility for supply runs when his father died.”

Gideon looked down at the table with a sigh. “When our mother smuggled me out, it was with DJ’s father, Waylon. I don’t know why Waylon let me live. It’s . . . haunted me for years.”

Daisy sucked in a harsh breath. “You will not feel guilty that he spared you,” she hissed. “Whatever the reason.”

Gideon’s smile was sad. “Yeah. I’ll send the memo to my conscience.” He half turned in his chair, pulling Daisy to him. “But thank you.” He kissed her hair, then looked around the table. “The night my mother smuggled me out, I’d just accidentally killed Ephraim’s brother, Edward. We didn’t know they were brothers at the time. We thought they were friends. Ephraim came after me with a small mob.” He swallowed hard. “They attacked me and I stabbed Ephraim’s eye out in self-defense. That was what pushed Mama to get me out. I didn’t know that Waylon died soon after I left.”

“It wasn’t even two days later,” Mercy remembered. “We were in shock, Amos and I. I thought Mama was too, but now I can see it was grief. She’d left Gideon at the Redding bus station, clinging to life. The Founding Elders said that Gideon had run away after killing Edward because he was lazy—Gideon, I mean. They said he’d died. Waylon brought back remains.” She had to take a second to rebuild her composure because the image was still crystal clear in her mind. “They made us look. It was a person, but I couldn’t identify him as Gideon.”

Gideon gasped quietly. “They made you look?”

She nodded, her cheeks wet. She made no move to dry her eyes. There didn’t seem to be much point when her tears were running like a damn river. “Mama and me. I . . .” She exhaled, trying to calm her churning stomach through sheer will. “Mama said it was Gideon.”

Farrah made a pained noise. “She lied?”

Mercy nodded. “Looking back, I think it was so that Ephraim would believe that Gideon was dead so he didn’t go searching for him. The body . . . the remains . . . there was a tattoo. An Eden tattoo. Or part of one. He’d been torn apart, whoever he was.” She turned to Rafe. “Let’s add that person to our list of people who need justice. He wasn’t from Eden. Gideon was the only one missing from the compound. I never even considered it before now. Never could make myself remember it. But somebody died that night. I can only assume that Waylon kidnapped someone and made it look like he’d been ‘devoured by wolves.’” She crooked her fingers, then explained to the others. “That’s what happened to dissenters. They were cast out of Eden, to be ‘devoured by wolves’ or bears or whatever.”