It was my first cleansing session with Ray, and I was more nervous than when I met him. He had refused to do a cleansing session with me while I was working on my article—said we’d be lacking the level of honesty that was necessary for it to be successful—but we didn’t have to worry about that anymore. I wouldn’t be doing any other articles on them. Not after the last angry letter we’d gotten in opposition to my defense of their movement. Leo wouldn’t even consider it. We’d expected some opposition to covering such a controversial story, but never the magnitude we’d received. Whoever it was had been sending Ray hate mail too.

Our talks had changed since they were no longer on the record, and he was able to speak freely with me. But neither he nor anyone else talked about what happened in the cleansings. So much of the internal work at Love International was that way—deeply personal and private. Everyone shared the insights and lessons they’d taken away from their cleansing sessions, but there was never any mention of the process. Did it work the same way with everyone, or did he change his approach depending on the individual? What was his plan for me? People gushed about their spiritual breakthroughs afterward, but not all of them ended on a positive note. Some people came out of their cleansing emotionally wrecked. I hoped I wasn’t the latter.

Cleansings were held in one of the detox rooms, which was less comfortable than his office, but I was pretty sure that was the point. I’d lost track of how many times we’d met together. It didn’t matter, though, because my nerves still jumped every time. I was glad I wasn’t alone. He had that effect on everyone. It wasn’t just because of the way his eyes pierced into your soul. It was more about the way he cut straight to your core issues, stripping you raw within minutes.

“Hi, Kate.” He rose from his position on the floor when I walked into the room. He hugged me before kneeling back on the floor. I sat across from him. I held back the urge to giggle as we sat cross-legged in front of each other, like we were back in elementary school about to have a shoe-tying race. “It’s okay. You can laugh. Release any feeling that comes up,” he said.

I blushed. “Sorry. I don’t think it’s funny. I j—”

He held up his hand. “Stop. Don’t go any further with that statement. We do not justify or rationalize any of our emotional expressions during a cleansing.” He looked at me sharply. He’d never been so serious.

“Got it.” I nodded.

“The point of this cleansing is for you to get in touch with all those things you’ve pushed down and ignored. Those things that have been filling your heart and soul with cancer.” The light in his eyes was gone, replaced with hawklike precision as he peered into my eyes. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to look away from his intense stare. “Why are you here?”