Chapter 48 - The Other Side of Right is Wrong (Samson POV) Pt.1

Ugh, I'm so jealous!! I was scrolling through all the different locations that you guys posted and man would I loveeee to visit a few of those places. One day. And I'm not ashamed to say that there were a few places where I was like ok... I have to google this because I've never heard of it! Or places where when I think of the world, I couldn't place the location AT ALL.

Example: Belarus.

Anyways... I added a few places to the bucket list of countries I want to visit... at the moment the list is: Ireland because I'm like 10% Irish, though you'd never guess that. Japan, my cousin lived there and went to Sophia University for two semesters. India, a friend of mine was telling me of this like walk that her parents went on. She said that it's something that they wanted to do just once in their life, her too. Morocco, another friend of mine was born there and there are just some breathtaking photographs that she has, I'd love to see the real place. Then, Italy and Australia.   What about you guys? Anywhere you'd love to travel to?

Anyways... important chapter... Enjoy :)

Chapter 48 – The Other Side of Right is Wrong (Samson POV) Pt.1

Is it possible to be completely at ease and still have your heart racing?

Hell is that even normal?

I wouldn't know really. Yet, here I was, my heart racing as I took stared at Fatima, at the white bodysuits, and the small hunting closet Luca, Imogen and I had followed her into.

With a tight expression that goes away, turns as blank as a white piece of paper, she turns to us.

"Upstairs has an open layout, white oak wood paneling. Uhm, plumbing works too. There's two bedrooms," she mumbles out leaving the room and us behind. When she's gone, and we follow, much further back as she climbs the stairs, Imogen rests a hand on my shoulder.

"Has – am I the only one that thinks she has lived here or at least been here before?"

"Or was meant to live here," Luca murmured, pointing back to the items hung that would clearly fit Fatima now, but not when she was younger.

I'm following her with my eyes, when I leave Imogen and Luca with their guesses and follow Fatima for real. Trying to read her face but all she does is look at the different areas of the barn house, with mild interest. Just when I think maybe the two with us were wrong, she whips her head to look at something, head cocked to the side.

Staring thoughtfully, before closing her eyes as though trying, forcing herself to remember. She fails. And I know it when her shoulders seem to drop and her eyes open.

I think of the location of this place, compared to the others and the knowledge that Fatima had once been in Colorado.

Pulling up a mental image of the U.S., I add to it the places where Dmitri had left Fatima a home. There were some in Utah, Arizona, California, Montana, and on the East Coast.

That in mind I had to wonder if Imogen was right. What if Dmitri had lived here with Fatima? We were under six hours from Bend, a place where, Dmitri had ended up sending Fatima anyways after his death.

Was it really that far off to assume that there was a chance he was going to bring Fatima to Cynthia? That he had somehow knew where Cynthia and Andy were all along?

Yet, I had to say, again, I was thankful he didn't bring her.

I almost choke on my own thought.

Thankful? That he didn't bring her? Thankful? Really?

When I wanted to get away with something naughty I did as a child, my parents would ask if I thought it was right or wrong. I could recall my petulance, and wanting a way to sneak around getting punished. So I'd say that it wasn't exactly right. Before I could finish my roundabout way of getting out of trouble, mom or dad would say, "The other side of right, is wrong."

If something is wrong. It's wrong. And if it's right, then it's right.

Gray areas are where people dipped their feet when the motives made one wrong action look right.

Point in case? I knew that hacking was wrong. Yet, when dad sent my aunt Angela into the Hotel system, tracking down any calls made from Cynthia or Danny's room, then their cell phones. Right and wrong seemed to blur in those moments.

We were standing behind the justification that it was to safeguard the families under my fathers' watchful eye.

But that brought me back to the Dmitri thing. His actions, hiding Fatima, the life that she lived before he died. More and more, though I did not believe he handled it right, I could not say for sure he handled it completely wrong.

He hid Fatima, but then again, knowing that Cynthia thought the Elders wanted her? Well that changed a lot. Then how easily she was ready to hand over Fatima? That changed some more of the light that shone brightly on Dmitri's decisions.

Then, there was one more thing that I was unable to avoid.

He left everything he owned to Fatima. All of it.

There was no other family members, close or distant mentioned. Sure he was friends with Walsh, but everyone he owned was given to the girl he hid away.

I was starting to wonder if maybe he bit off more than he could chew? Or maybe when he realized what a snake Cynthia was he did not know how else to protect Fatima? The Elders had people everywhere. You never knew sometimes.

If he was truly alone outside of Walsh, did he trust no one else? Is that why? With no family, no friends – no one – Dmitri did the only thing he could think of...

He hid her away where not even the Elders could find her.

Standing on the steps as I wait below, lost in my head, Fatima turns to me, eyes drawing me in, calling me.

Leaving my apprehensions of Dmitri alone for now. I go where I'm needed, taking her hand in mine, wondering if maybe she was feeling any pain in her hand. We hadn't thought to bring her medication with us, but that didn't stop me from loading up on the over the counter pain relievers.

I shake my head hoping they were enough. If only I had teleportation abilities. I grimace when I realize that they Elders would probably kill me straightaway to get their hands on such a gift.

"What's with the frown?" Fatima asks, standing on a stair above me, her neck at my eye level. Instead of letting my gaze roam down, I promptly focus on her eyes. "Just worried you might be in pain," I hold up her hand.

She nods easily, quirking a weird smile at me, "I'm sure Dmitri will have stuff here that I can take," her confidence in his as secure as when she first revealed her past to me.

Scowling, I glance away. But quickly revert my eyes to her face. "How do you know?"

Swallowing, as though needing to steel her self to utter her answer, Fatima squeezes my hands. "I think that the world I expected, is just one I remembered too early or Wyatt misread the person Cynthia was." Again she speaks with a balance of uncertainty and acceptance.

"I mean, I was thinking about it while we were planning the trip. Lets say Cynthia wasn't so..." how could she not find the right adjective? I had plenty just bursting and knocking each horrid one over.

Selfish.

Egocentric.

Greedy.

Narcissistic.

Green-eyed.

Resentful.

The list could go on and on!

"He misread her," she says quietly, "and so, lets say he hadn't. Lets say I didn't spend so much time locked away. If Wyatt saw the future it had to be just a sideline view. How was he to know that Lydia would be who she was to Cynthia?" I frown.

"What do you mean?"

"Wyatt sees the future as a spectator. He saw that I would need to run after what happens in the classroom, but what if he thought I was living happily with Cynthia and Andy?"

"Same vision, different or unknown narrative?" I regurgitate her explanation hoping I had it right.

When she nods quickly, I wrap my mind around that.

"Have you been here before?" I blurt out. Randomly so. My mind wasn't even thinking of that question really. "Uhm, to me it feels like a memory that I just cannot grab fully. And a part of me wonders if maybe this place isn't one Dmitri maybe told me about?"

Lost in our own bubble, only when Imogen and Luca are three or four steps down do I register them again.

"Yeah I don't know. Something doesn't feel right," Imogen says and Luca nods. I don't bother. Nothing about our situation was right at this point.

We had a girl with memories. Some real. Some fake. Dmitri. Houses. Loyalists and Independents. Cynthia and magic. Oh not to mention, Taylor and her shady dealings.

"There isn't a single crevice open here," Imogen says, waving her hands around. "And you said that he came with masks and oxygen, there are six tanks here."

"Do you think someone is working with Dmitri?" Fatima asks before I can.

Imogen shakes her head, "No, but I think we need to stop at the other house in Idaho and check it out," she says while Luca frowns.

"Why?"

"Well, Faith you said that the air is supposed to be poisonous? Behind this barn, Luca gave me a lift to see out the window, there is a green house back there with solar panels. And there are two walls near the one door," she points towards the hunting room Fatima and I bolted out of.

My first thought leads me to immediately look up the stairs, past Fatima. Then right back to the barn doors that she opened. Finally the concrete walls and do not have a single crack now that I pay attention.

"We need to go to that second house, see if it's like the house Dmitri kept you in. Set up the same way?"

Unconvinced that we should make another stop or travel out of our way to do so, my expression remained leery, filled with dubiousness.

"Guys, think about it," Imogen glanced at Luca who looked as doubtful as I'm sure I did. "Why go to the trouble of having the suits. Hell six of them? Why the setup out back? Why the armored car?"

"Why go through all the trouble?"

Now she was asking what I actually craved an answer too but without Dmitri we had none. "Honestly? Faith he could have kept you on the mountain forever. You already trusted what he said, you'd never want to leave that safety if you didn't have too. Let's say that you did..." Imogen brainstorms, "you have to run from that home. Why would he need more suits? He could just sedate you and move you without your knowledge."

"And why would he have the setup outside. It's not like you're blind and you cannot see the town in the distance. Hell, it would take you seconds to realize that the people down the hill here weren't in suits. So why would he have them? And the car?" she points to the monster we drove up in.

"Again, he could sedate you and stick you in the trunk of a car, why buy that?"

Without even thinking, I take a step to completely block Fatima from Imogen. "I'm not going to hurt her," Imogen says offended but that's not enough to make me leave my spot either.

I shrug.

Ignoring me now, she keeps both Fatima and I in focus. "Dmitri is setting things up here like he actually believes everything about the poisonous air, Loyalist and Independents-"

I nod slowly, "and the best way to confirm, is by checking the other homes."

For a terrifying moment, I have a random, abrupt thought.

Okay so not completely abrupt.

It was more like I started at 'A.'

Went to 'B.'

Somehow blinked and I was on 'Z.'

Dmitri seemed to be a well-connected guy. How did he escape with Fatima? How exactly did he gain his wealth that he left solely for Fatima? Could Dmitri have worked for the Elders or Alpha Monet?

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Ansel Conrad POV

"I – I did try and stop him dad," Brennan says weakly and I hear my father snort. A slap sounds next. With one hand reading Angela's text, my eyes darting from Brennan, Kalenah and my phone I breathe heavily.

Why would they run? That is the first actual thought I have. Followed by, of course they ran.

"I called in reinforcements," Brennan adds, walking in, using his sleeve to wipe the blood that hadn't already dried. Nodding, I focus on Kalenah, her eyes already filling, pulse racing. "I'll call mamma and daddy," she announces as her cell phone rings.

"What happened? Exactly?" I ask Brennan while Kalenah rushes to her bag, "I was in the kitchen and Luca, Imogen and Fatima were all leaving. They said they were going out for food but-" he continues while I try to listen but am pulled away when Kalenah frowns and places the phone against her ear.

"Nova?" Kalenah answers trying – and failing – to keep her tears at bay.

"Hey, Lenah, I – my secretary just saw the someone she said looks like Samson drop off something at my mailbox. I went to check and I found a letter address to you and Ansel," at this point I hear nothing that Brennan says.

Hell, I even turn and face Kalenah completely.

"What does it say? Does it say where they went? Have you read it?" I stalk right over to Kalenah as she peppers Nova with questions, their order a mess. "They ran away Nova, Brennan said he saw Samson with his 'emergency go' bag."

"Faith too?" I hear Nova ask. And it's almost laughable. Like Samson would go somewhere Faith was not. "Do you think they're going back to the-"

"Nova!" Kalenah just about snapped, "What does the letter say?" That's what I wanted to know. However the intelligent side of me knew that this letter wouldn't tell us where they were going. If they wanted to tell us that, they'd not have snuck out. More over, Brennan wouldn't look like his face collided with a two by four plank of wood.

"Please tell us what it says-"

"Kalenah, I think, this is a letter that should be read privately... do you understand?" Nova murmurs, her pitch lowering. Lenah nods, as though Nova was capable of seeing it. But even distraught and holding it together, my Lenah was sharp. "Can you – I know you must have clients but could you bring it over?"

"Yes, yes. I actually don't so I'll come right over, ten minutes."

Once the call has ended, Kalenah turns to me, "should we – what should we do? Do you think... where were they going?"

She questions not waiting for me to respond.

"They'd go to-" my wife stops speaking, her eyes on someone over my shoulder. Turning that direction, Danny and Leslie stand at the top of the stairs, eyes red, and face puffy. I'm looking at my brother but all I can think is, thank god Kalenah stopped. If Danny were set to somehow turn Faith and Cynthia in to the Elders then Danny and Leslie, my own brother and niece would be the two last people I'd inform where they might be.

"I want to talk to the girl-"

"Learn her name then," my father snaps at Danny. Danny ignores my father, "I deserve-"

"Stop right there," I hold up a hand, "you deserve nothing Danny. And because she was probably expecting your tirade, Fatima and Samson both left," I gage both Leslie and Danny's expression.

Leslie turns to sneak glance at Brennan, her eyes widening when she takes his face in. When he begins wiping away the blood on a dishrag, she turns to me again.

I watch Danny carefully, the blues of his eyes slowly being replaced with gray. Hands at his side in fists, he scoffs angrily. "First you let her kill my daughter," wrong. What angle is Danny playing now? Try to get me so furious that I what? Send him away? Give him a chance to somehow call the Elders?

"Then you lose her? What kind of leader are you Ansel?"

It's a split second decision, but as nonviolent as I wanted to be, I had taken enough from Danny. The pressures were building, and this was the last straw for me, I thought as my fist connected with his jaw.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

Knocking him flat onto her back, despite the screeching around me. Yet, while Leslie and my mother yelped out in shock, I felt no arms coming to pull me away from this fight. "What kind of leader am I?" I fume, throwing punches not caring where it took him. The face. Neck. His chest, hell, I heard a rib crack and only when he began gasping, unable to breath did I stop.

"Talk to me that way again, and I'll throw you back in that cell with Cynthia, let the both of you rot together!" I lean down and whisper harshly at his ear.

"You don't question me anymore Danny," I growl, panting, my breathing uneven. I push away from him, sitting flat on the ground, my knees up. "Your daughter died, you want someone to blame? You blame Cynthia. You don't come at me with that bullshit," I snap as he rolls onto his stomach, spitting, blood dripping onto the off-white stone kitchen floor.

Grunting, gasping heavily, he goes to all fours, before wincing and falling back weakly.

I almost forget we have an audience but when Leslie sniffles, wiping at her face, her expression breaking me, I rub my face roughly. Elbows on my knees I scan the room, eyes spying Lia and the friend of Leslie's – Naomi.

Shooing the kids up the stairs, she utters a few words that fly right over me. When she's out of sight, as are the rest of the kids I focus my attention on Danny.

The text from Angela at the forefront of my thoughts.

"What are you doing Danny? What's your plan? Do you want me to put you back in the cellar with Cynthia? What?" I ask him frustrated, not expecting any sort of true answer.

"I'm going to call the Elders on you. On the girl, on Cynthia. Let them have her, and have them bring my daughter back."

"Daddy?" Leslie calls, while I blink, my eyes going right to my father. Was – did I hear him correctly? What?

"You want – Lydia is gone Danny..." I say softly, "The Elders-"

"No, Cynthia said that they can bring back people, she saw them do it!" What? When? How did she know such a thing? Was it from the time that she was held?

Question after question erupt in my mind, each one more frantic and confusing than the next until – I thought Cynthia was in Colorado... with Alpha Monet's pack?

Mom, dad, Kalenah and I had discussed the Elders working with him, but... turning to me, Danny, the weakness all I can see, opens his eyes connecting with my gaze. "Please, Ansel, please. She's my daughter, they – if there is just the smallest chance they can bring her back, please do this for me?" he pleads, begging.

I stare at Danny blankly not quite understanding what he was asking of me.

No. That's not true.

I knew what he was requesting; I was just wishing that I were wrong. With dried tears on her face my mother, who had been silent all along outside of that one yelp from shock, comes forward.

As though expecting him to explode, she says his name; hell even approaches him as though walking on eggshells. "Danny, son," she pauses, waiting for him to look at her, yet when he does even I see the glare he sends my moms way, "Why didn't you bound them all?" he asks her with little emotion in his voice.

What the hell was going on? My brother was a grown man with his own family yet somehow since last week, all I've heard since he shown up was cantankerous and blame everyone else comments.

Not even my youngest children – Simon and Amy – were like this. His moods were erratic and I couldn't quite keep up with his changing personalities. One minute he was taking responsibility for his wrongs, the next he was blaming anyone but the right people.

Now he wanted to hand over Faith and Cynthia to the Elders so they could... what the hell is going on right now? My inner self demands to know.

"We cannot call the Elders Daniel," my mother says much stricter, ignoring his accusatory comment. "Have you thought of your children? Danny they cannot be trusted-"

"But" he starts shaking his head but stops wincing. Good.

Exhaling, he pants a bit before speaking. "She is innocent... I heard Cynthia telling her – Lydia didn't know." This was new unknown information, I thought while only slightly baffled at why Danny was just spilling his guts.

Was this all an act? I ponder. Make us think that he was ready to throw Cynthia under the bus? Hell just hours ago he was ready to die for the woman.

"If we just trade them for her life, she d-deserve a s-s-second c-c-chance," again with the word deserve.

"Danny, even if the Elders could do that, there would be strings attached Danny. You know that," my mother quieted him, holding his face between her hands. "And Danny, the person they bring back, it won't be Lydia. What you are asking, what it will take to do such a thing if it's possible, you will not be bringing back the little girl you raised," she tries to make him see. Though at this point, my mind screams: waste of time!

"It's not your choice mom, it's Ansel. If – if he-" he turns to face me now, "If you – you're her uncle Ansel, she is blood," I snort mentally, was I not blood a week ago?

"It doesn't only have to be Lydia," he says desperately, while I just frown, "We can ask for Silas as well-" the growl I release is enough to silence him.

"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you Danny, but you need to come back to reality. Lydia is gone. There is no bringing her back. I'm not trading someone, for any reason. Don't make me do something I'll regret Danny. To protect everyone, I have no problem, sticking you and Leslie too, in that dungeon with Cynthia," I get out just barely holding onto my control, before I push myself up.

I hear a car driving up, the sound in the distance gaining volume. Finished with Danny, I walk over to Kalenah, taking her hand in mine and leaving my parents and Brennan in the house with Danny and his children.

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Things are starting to unfold nicely... thank you for sticking with this story, and for all the new readers, welcome :)