“First,” Jacob began, “the Commission wants confirmation that you remember me, your husband. You do remember me, don’t you?”
I hesitated, wanting to squeeze his hand only once, to give him something for his dedication and support. After all, I recalled him in recent memories—he’d been by my bedside while I slept in the darkness. But I couldn’t lie. Unless . . . unless he was the man with the blue eyes. I latched on to that glimmer of hope. If he was my blue-eyed vision, then I did remember him.
“Sara, stay with us. Tell everyone that you remember me.” His plea swelled with emotion, not only in his voice, but flowing in waves from his hand to mine.
In this unknown world, he’d been my one constant. Apprehensively I squeezed. The room seemed to hold its collective breath as I deliberated the second squeeze. Finally I relaxed my grip.
Jacob sighed, leaned closer, and brushed my hair away from my forehead. This still felt wrong. Nevertheless I needed time to make sense of everything. During that time, I didn’t want to fight the darkness alone. I took strength from his warm breath and adoration.
An unfamiliar voice spoke from near the end of my bed. “Sister Sara, I hope you recognize the seriousness of this situation.”
Why did they all talk strangely? I couldn’t understand why he called me sister, but by the way the small hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, I recognized that whatever was happening was serious.
“Sara,” Jacob reminded me. “Brother Timothy needs you to respond.”
I squeezed Jacob’s hand once to indicate I understood.
“She understands,” Jacob said.
“If you could speak,” Brother Timothy continued, “I’d ask you for a full account of the incident. I’d ask you to describe in detail your role and the aftermath. Since you’re unable to talk, we’ll begin with questions. Once I have your answers, I’ll take what I find informative back to the rest of the Commission. We’ll decide what should be passed on to Father Gabriel. Of course, the final decree regarding this transgression lies solely with him. The two of you will abide by Father Gabriel’s decision.”
My tired mind spun. What decree? Who is Father Gabriel? And by “the two of you,” does he mean Jacob and me? What have we done?
The throbbing returned to my temples as Jacob’s fingers unlaced from mine and both of his hands encased my one. I tried, again, to recall the accident, but incomplete memories of dragon-sharp teeth and fiery breath created an unfinished mosaic.
Before my mind was able to fill in the blanks or I could respond, Jacob verbally agreed to everything that Brother Timothy had just said.
“Sara, do you remember why you took Jacob’s truck the day of the incident?”
I had no recollection of having taken a truck. If Jacob and I were married, wouldn’t it be my truck too? I lowered my chin to my chest and squeezed Jacob’s hand twice.
“She said yes, Brother. She remembers.”
My face snapped toward Jacob’s voice, sending pain surging through my head. I hadn’t indicated yes—I’d squeezed twice, which meant no.
Brother Timothy continued, “Did you have your husband’s permission to drive his truck?”
“I told you that she—”
Brother Timothy interrupted Jacob’s reply. “We’re here to get answers from Sister Sara. If you’re not willing to wait for your wife’s responses, we can have Lilith hold her hand. Sister Sara, yes or no?”
I now understood why Jacob had completely covered my hand with both of his. He was going to answer the questions the way he chose, regardless of how I replied. I squeezed twice—no—and waited.
“She said yes, she had my permission. Which I believe is the same answer I gave the Commission.”
Brother Timothy went on with his questions, asking if I remembered where I’d been going, if I knew that what I’d done had been beyond my approved scope.
My approved scope?
My heart thundered in my chest with each question and each answer that Jacob gave on my behalf. In a short time, I learned details about the accident that I couldn’t recall. Apparently I had been driving Jacob’s truck to pick up supplies he needed. Since I’d been following my husband’s instructions, I hadn’t realized that driving alone outside the community was forbidden.
“Do you remember who was responsible for your incident?”
The room waited for my answer. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know who was responsible or recall anything relating to the accident; I wouldn’t be the one to answer. As the silence grew, I fidgeted against the mattress. My leg and ribs ached and even swallowing hurt. I squeezed Jacob’s hand twice.
“Yes, Brother, she remembers.”