Three Converts

Part 55

I didn't notice daylight had disappeared until I tried running. I stumbled several times, but that might have been nerves as well as lack of lighting. When we got back to town, I hit the pavement running. The boys' feet hit beside me. With every thump of our feet my heart oscillated between worry and anger. I didn't slow down at Griff's house, but ran in. Before I could yell, I saw them on the floor, leaning on the couch. "Soph," I whispered.

If this weren't my sister, the same girl I'd lived with, shared a room with, for eighteen years, my own flesh and blood, I would not have recognized her. Everything about her was absent. The fullness of her face, the sparkle from her giant blue eyes. The healthy glow of her skin was missing, her always present smile was nowhere to be seen. But the most jarring absence of all was that of her hair. Her wholesome curls, the hair that I'd watched bounce when she was happy, that I'd braided on her bed while we giggled and chatted, my sister's lovely hair, was gone. Little dots speckled her head, promising new hair but I could see her innocence was an absence that may never return.

Misty, was in full mother hen mode. She cradled Sophie in her arms, rocking her gently. Griff and Rocco bustled into the kitchen. Sophie's robe was bunched up around her. I moved it out of the way and sat beside her. Misty shifted the bulk of Sophie's weight over to me. "I'll make some tea," she whispered.

"Soph? What happened?" She wasn't crying. I wished she would. I wished she were hysterical and sad, or raving-mad, or trembling with fear, but she wasn't any of these things. Her emotions seemed gone as her hair. I stroked her head. I wanted to prod, but instead I held her. "I'm so happy to see you. I love you." We sat for a very long time. Misty brought in some tea, but it cooled beside us. She stayed in a chair and sat with us. Griffin and Rocco made themselves scarce. I thought I could hear Griff working in the garage.

Suddenly, Sophie sat up. She breathed in and looked around as though just realizing she weren't at the commune any more. "Where are we?"

I closed my eyes, to better hear her voice. Like the rest of her, it was duller than it used to be, but it was unmistakeably her voice. I tried a smile, but it didn't come easy. "Griffin's." Unbelievably, it occurred to me she had never met Griffin. "I have a lot to tell you about Soph."

She snorted, "Yeah. Me too." Her voice was just a pinch sassy when she touched her head. This time my smile came a little easier. "You first," she ordered.

So I laid it all on her. I started the day I left the commune and changed into regular clothes in the park, was attacked by Franklin ("your glass saved my life," I told her), learned about Annie, made a plan to escape with Griff, found Misty, was thrown in the pit with her, rescued, came up with a plan to put an end to the commune, the fire, every detail. I was relieved to see various emotions flicker across her face as I told the story. There was some life still in her after all.