But Rosa didn’t seem to recognize him. Her eyes watched, unblinking.

The priest shoved Silvie up next to him, opened the cage gate with a large key, pushed them both inside, and slammed the gate shut. He turned on his heel and strode for the door. “Enjoy a few precious moments together,” he said and shut the door leading to the stairs.

Rosa stood unmoving, though she’d turned to face them. Johnis felt Silvie’s hand on his elbow in support. “Johnis?”

He rushed up to his mother. “What did they do to you?”

Rosa backed up, eyes fired with fear. But her grayed retinas flittered back and forth over his face, digging for something that sparked recognition in her.

“Mother, please . . .” He reached out for her, and she took another step back.

The pain of her rejection was almost more than he could bear. He had to get her to see the truth about him! “It’s me—your son, Johnis!” he cried. “You were taken by the Horde and forced to serve them. I don’t know what they’ve convinced you of, but you’re my mother. Please . . .”

She began to tremble, and he knew that his words were breaking through. He stepped up to her, slowly this time.

“It’s me: Johnis.” Tears flooded his eyes, and he let them leak down his cheeks unabashedly. “I’m your son. Kiella is your daughter. Ramos is your husband. We miss you terribly and want you to come home as soon as possible.”

Her eyes welled with tears, and her lips quivered as she seemed to be trying to grasp his words.

Johnis reached for her, touched her sleeve. The smell of her rotting flesh filled his nostrils, but he paid it no mind. “I love you, Mother. I miss you so much.”

Slowly, like a creeping tide, her right hand rose and moved closer to him. Her fingers were white with disease, cracked and bleeding from work. Johnis tried not to think of what kind of abuse had turned her—a woman who had marched around the house lovingly bossing them—into this shell of a human. But he failed and let his imagination run wild.

They’d tortured her! Beaten her! Forced her to work with bleeding fingers! The priest had done this; his own daughter had confirmed it. Punishment, Karas had said. A wicked man. Now Johnis saw just how wicked the man was.

“Johnis?” She spoke her first word, and it was his name.

He began to sob silently. His tears distorted her image, but he blinked them away and reached for her hand.

“Mother.”

Then his hands touched rough Scab flesh.

“Mother, what did they do to you?” No, he didn’t want her to think about her suffering. He spoke before she could answer. “Do you want to go home?”

“Kiella?”

“Yes, to Kiella. To the forest.” He could hardly stand the pain in his chest.