So young. So foolishly trusting.

His heart hurt with the knowledge of truth, like having the scales ripped from his eyes. But he was no longer nineteen and foolish. He was forty-nine, with a daughter to protect. So he’d spent the Sabbath day sitting in the rocking chair that he’d made with his own hands, thinking and planning until darkness had fallen.

He was still thinking and planning. He had been all day today as he’d worked in his woodshop. He stepped back from the cabinet he’d made for their newest family—a single mother with two children. They’d recently been brought in from the city. He thought about the woman, about why she’d chosen to come to Eden. Her son was barely twelve and had already gotten involved with a dangerous gang. The daughter was fourteen, pregnant, and clearly unhappy to have been ripped away from civilization. Even unhappier to have been immediately married off to one of the compound’s men.

Luckily neither of them had been given to Ephraim or DJ. The mother accepted the rules of the compound—had embraced them, even. She’d been grateful for the structure, pinning her hopes on Eden helping her children to straighten up and fly right. Her attitude was common enough.

No one was brought here against their will. Not bound and helpless, anyway. Rhoda had been lied to, she’d confided. Or at least hadn’t been informed that she’d be required to wed within hours of her arrival.

She was happy with me, though. He hoped so. God, he hoped he’d at least done that right.

“Brother Amos?”

Amos spun around, startled at the sight of DJ Belmont in the doorway of his workshop. He put his hand to his racing heart and forced a smile. “Brother DJ. What brings you here?”

What if he knew? What if DJ knew that he’d listened to Pastor’s call? That he’d seen Ephraim kill three people? That he’d seen the computer in the office?

He realized that he’d gripped the carving knife in his hand a little too tightly and dropped it on the worktable beside him.

DJ didn’t seem to have noticed. “I was wondering if you had any finished items to take into town.”

“Not at the moment,” Amos said. The hope chest was almost finished, but he was saving that to smuggle out Abigail, if he could find the right time. That time is now. “But I will in a few days.” He tilted his head, wondering how much latitude he’d earned for his thirty years of service to Eden. “I have a piece in mind that will be rather substantial and will require two people to move, plus some setup once it’s delivered. I was wondering if I might accompany you on one of your deliveries.”

He had no such piece in mind, but he needed to know if his request would be shut down immediately. He needed to know if he’d be able to accompany Abigail once he had the hope chest finished.