Always Watching

tongue.
    “Lisa told me you don’t believe in life after death, or that our loved ones return to visit. Just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
    I wasn’t playing this game with him. “I’d like to talk to my daughter.”
    He smiled, then picked up the phone and spoke softly into it. “Please bring Lisa Lavoie to me. Thank you.”
    He put the phone down and said, “Why don’t you stand by the fire, you look cold.”
    Another memory crashed into me. We were at the campsite with everyone, after swimming in the river, and he’d wrapped his towel around me, pulled me down to sit on his lap. My mother had looked away. Had she known? The possibility stunned me.
    When I didn’t move, Aaron said, “You never trusted me, though I don’t understand why. I’ve always cared about you and thought we had a special connection.” He held my gaze, and I felt the sick wrongness, the feeling I’d always had as a child, which was made even worse by knowing that in his warped mind he actually meant it. He said, “Everything I did was to help you and your mother.”
    “Help me? You’re a sick pedophile. And I’m going to make sure the whole world knows you’re a fraud. This center will be out of business soon.”
    He said nothing, just cocked his head, assessing me. Finally, his voice calm, he said, “My members are loyal and grateful for my help. Your threats have no meaning.”
    The door opened, and Aaron turned.
    “Lisa, welcome.”
    She was here already? Had they been waiting nearby? I spun around. An older man was walking in with Lisa. Her hair was brushed clean, falling down her back in thick waves. She was wearing black leggings and a long beige sweater.
    I came toward her. “Lisa!”
    The man stepped forward and blocked me.
    “Excuse me, please,” I said. Then I met his gaze and realized it was Joseph. Unlike his brother, the years had not been kind. He was gaunt and pale, dark shadows circled under red-rimmed eyes, and his hair was unkempt. He had the look of someone seriously ill.
    Lisa had already passed by to stand at Aaron’s side near his desk. Aaron reached out and put his arm around her shoulder, his hand resting on the back of her neck, thumb pressing against her jugular. Panic surged through my blood.
    Ignoring Joseph for now, I said, “Lisa, are you okay?”
    She didn’t even glance at me. Instead she looked at Aaron for permission to speak, her body language almost deferential and her expression admiring.
    Aaron said, “Go ahead, you can tell her what you told me this morning.”
    Lisa now faced me, her eyes angry but her words calm. “It’s interesting, all the stuff I’m learning about meditating and spiritual awareness. I feel calmer now, like this is where I’m supposed to be, so I can get better.”
    I studied her face, searching for signs of fatigue or stress, but she actually looked rested and healthy. I was relieved and also torn. I hated to hear that Aaron was having any positive effect on her, but I had to admit this was the best I’d seen her in years.
    “Lisa, I’m glad you’re okay.”
    “I’m fine. I like it here. These are my friends now.” She smiled at Joseph standing nearby, who returned it, but there was something in his face I didn’t like, a sweaty, feverish energy that made me wonder if he was in a manic phase. I remembered him kneeling behind Mary, the smile on his face as she sobbed.
    I fought back a rush of fear. “They seem like your friends, but if you don’t do everything they want you to do, they’ll turn against you.”
    A flash of anger in Lisa’s eyes. She was still there, she hadn’t lost her spirit. Unfortunately, her anger was aimed at me. “You’re just mad because I’m not doing what you think I should be doing. I’m happy here. But you’re still trying to control me. You think your way is so much better? You think your house is so safe?”
    “My house?” What was she talking about?
    She stopped short, looked at Aaron. He nodded. “Like we discussed, to let go of your negative thought processes, you have to share every part of your life.”
    She looked back at me, tears glistening in her eyes. “It was Garret, Mom.”
    “What was Garret?”
    “That’s who molested me.”
    I sucked in my breath. No, not Garret. My mind raced, trying to take in her words, but all I could do was stare at her, my heart thundering with shock.
    Lisa continued. “It started when I was thirteen. You were always at