“Listen to me, Mathew. Please just listen! I’m not letting you take me to the Care Center. I don’t need to go. Just look at me for one minute. I’m not dying. Not even close.”
Mathew opened his mouth to object, but shut it slowly as he took in the sight of his formerly fragile sister. Gabi knew she was soaked with sweat and looking horrid by most standards, but anyone could see she had changed. Though she was still thin, her clothes no longer looked like they were hanging off a wire hanger, her unruly hair had taken on a slight sheen, and the bloom in her cheeks was not related to any mysterious fever.
“You said it yourself,” Gabi continued. “You’re amazed at how fast I’ve improved. Have you ever seen me like this? Didn’t you wonder why I was suddenly capable of doing all this stuff? I haven’t taken one pill since I got off the IV at the Care Center. Not one.”
Mathew backed up to the couch until he felt it against his legs and sank onto the cushions. Gabi lowered the poker but didn’t put it back in its stand.
“I don’t get it. How is that possible?”
“I don’t really know.” Gabi edged toward the opposite end of the couch, still ready to fend her brother off if he tried to throw her over his shoulder and make a break for the door. “The day Gram died, she said something to me about not taking my pills, that maybe I should try skipping one and see what happened. Then things got so crazy that I actually did forget to take them. I started feeling better almost immediately. Everything got better, except for how sensitive I am about smells and stuff. That gets more intense, and there’s this cramp or something along the sides of my neck, but it’s nothing compared to how good I feel now. I can breathe, Mathew, even when I climb stairs or get upset!”
Mathew had his head in his hands, as though it might crack open if not contained. “But Dad always said it was the medicine keeping you alive. That if you didn’t take it, your organs would fail, and you would die! How could he be wrong about something like that?”
If Mathew knew the whole truth about their father, it would annihilate him. Even the small thing of the pills, which paled in comparison to the other secrets Sam kept, was almost too much for him to take. Gabi surrendered the poker and scooted closer to him on the couch.
“He didn’t know, Mathew. He was just repeating what the doctors told him. Dad doesn’t know about medical stuff. None of us did, except Gram, and it took her sixteen years to figure out what was going on. The doctors got it wrong, that’s all.”
“Then why not tell Dad? Don’t you think he’d be relieved that you don’t need the drugs? I’m surprised he hasn’t said anything about how much better you look already.”
Gabi grasped for an answer to this question, for Mathew and for herself. Why didn’t she tell her father about the medication? Because he probably wasn’t even her father. Because he knew that and had never told her. Because on a Monday night just weeks ago, he walked through the doors of D Wing with Messenger Nystrom, and it wasn’t to visit the supply closet.
“You know how protective he is, Mathew. He’s worse than you, and look how you just flipped out when I told you I’d stopped taking the pills. You almost abducted me!”
“Dad’s more levelheaded than I am, Gab,” Mathew reasoned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him lose it, have you?”
It was true. The only time Sam Lowell raised his voice was when he was giving translation, and that was just to be heard in the cavernous temple. Gabi was out of arguments. Mathew punched her shoulder and tugged at the frizzy poof of her ponytail.
“It won’t be so bad. I’ll be right here when you tell him. It’s better if he knows. He can hardly argue with the evidence. I mean, look at you. You’re a beast!” Gabi rolled her eyes at the exaggeration. “C’mon, Gab. Not having to worry about your health all the time will take some of the load off him.”
Gabi knew it was a bad idea, though beyond her distrust of Sam she couldn’t say why. So she didn’t trust him. What did that have to do with her feeling better off the pills? How could he be anything but glad to hear it?
“Fine,” Gabi conceded, “but I want to tell him myself, and I want to wait until after Consecration Camp.” Gabi didn’t want to take any chances that Sam would make her stay home from camp as punishment for lying. The event was designed to help young fellows receive their callings as Messengers or Translators, but Gabi knew Sam didn’t put much stock in its ability to speed up the process of getting called. He would prefer that she spend more time in the temple with him and Mathew opening herself to hear God’s Will the good old-fashioned way.
Ordinarily she would have welcomed the opportunity to miss out on Consecration Camp, which she had been dreading her whole life. Everything was done in groups, including eating, praying, singing, and even sleeping. Gabi would be a walking bull’s eye. All her tormentors would be there. Only she wouldn’t be able to escape them at the end of the day. The trade-off was that being at camp would put her in a position to be seen by Witness recruiters, who attended anonymously, posing as youth counselors or support staff. Despite her improved fitness, Gabi still hadn’t accomplished anything remarkable during Training Period beyond
