“Is this still part of The Sanctuary? It’s sure not the cushy cabin I was staying in when I arrived.”
She’d paid her entire vacation savings to book a cabin at The Sanctuary, because she’d been determined to find Mary Alice. Deep soaking tub, fireplace, twin bed with a down mattress and cotton sheets. Handcrafted soaps and candles. Incense. Fresh flowers.
She’d been living the high life at the posh retreat meant to attract the wealthiest of seekers.
Of which, she was not.
But Mary Alice had certainly been. Wealthy and seeking.
Apparently, she’d found what she was looking for. If Honor had been given the chance to talk to her, she might have been able to make sense of that. She hadn’t.
She’d done yoga beneath the stars and meditation in forest clearings. She’d engaged in philosophical conversations around campfires. She’d taken classes meant to awaken her to her deeper self, sitting through long days in closed classrooms in the meeting house.
She’d watched members of the community dressed in their cotton pajamas, clearing brush from the edges of the property, working in the greenhouse and in the kitchen, cleaning cabins for wealthy guests. Prepping and constantly busy.
But she hadn’t seen Mary Alice.
She hadn’t spoken to her.
And she needed to.
A biochemist who worked for a pharmaceutical company in Boston, Mary Alice loved urban sprawl and noise and people.
But, for some reason, she’d come here. She hadn’t told Honor about her plans. She’d left without a phone call or a goodbye. Twenty years of friendship deserved more than that, and Honor would like an explanation.
She suspected she knew what it would be. Or, at least, part of it.
Mary Alice hadn’t been herself since she’d called off her New Year’s Eve wedding two nights before the big event. A year of planning, thousands of dollars, all of it tossed away after Mary Alice found out her fiancé, Scott, had cheated on her.
Good riddance. That had been Honor’s thought, but Mary Alice had been heartbroken, embarrassed, lonely. All the things that might have made her easy pickings for a place like this one. A place that seemed like the perfect sanctuary from a hectic world but...
What?
There was something nagging at the back of Honor’s mind, some memory that might have given her a clue as to what had happened, how she’d ended up in a yurt, her hands bandaged, her thoughts muddled. The more she tried to grasp it, the more elusive it became.
Frustrated, she walked to a curved doorway and pulled back a heavy curtain that hung in the threshold. Cool air wafted across her skin, skipping along her hot cheeks and clearing her mind a little more.
She should remember this place. The yurt. The clearing it was sitting in. The grassy expanses that led to tall trees and thick forest.
“How long have I been here?” she asked.
“Two weeks.”
“I can only remember maybe a week of that.”
“You’ve been sick. At least, that’s what they told me when I checked into this place,” he responded.
“Sick? Injured is more like it.”
“They failed to mention that part.”
“There’s a lot of things these people don’t mention. Like the fact that leaving is a lot harder than entering.”
“You tried to leave?”
“Sure. Once I knew that Mary Alice wasn’t around, I had no reason to stay.” She frowned. Whatever had happened to her, it had occurred after she’d asked to have her car keys, laptop and cell phone returned so that she could go home.
They’d all been taken when she’d arrived. Anything that would distract from the peaceful aura The Sanctuary provided had to be handed over during check-in. That had all been outlined in the literature she’d been sent. She’d played by the rules, because she’d wanted to see Mary Alice, talk to her, figure out how to get her to return home.
“So, you tried to leave, and then that happened?” He gestured to her hands.
“I remember asking for my belongings to be returned. Then, nothing.”
“Like I said, I have a bad feeling about his place,” he muttered.
“So let’s get out of here.” She stepped outside, and he grabbed her arm, pulling her back into the yurt.
“We’re in the-middle-of-nowhere Vermont. No nearby community. No cell service. No weapons. My car keys and cell phone were confiscated at the gate, and I’m pretty certain they made sure they took yours.”
“They did,” she responded.
“So, how about we come up with a plan before we let anyone who’s watching know that you’re awake, lucid and ready to leave?”
She wanted to argue, because she didn’t want to spend another second in The Sanctuary. It gave her the creeps, and there weren’t a whole lot of things that did that.
But, without a vehicle, it would take a day to reach town.
“This is a great setup for holding people hostage and manipulating them,” she said.
“I’d think you’d have clued into that before you arrived,” he replied.
“Why do you say that?”
“The lack of web information. This place has no real online presence.”
“I noticed that.” The one-page website gave a brief description of The Sanctuary and provided a phone number. That was it. No reviews that she could find. No Facebook or Instagram or Twitter presence. “But what I was most concerned about was the fact that they’d somehow found Mary Alice, convinced her to come to their retreat and then brainwashed her into staying.”
“Are you sure she didn’t find them?”
“I’m not sure of anything. But I know that a place like this is as far outside her comfort zone as the big city is mine.”
“You live in Boston,” he reminded her. As if she might have lost that memory, too.
“During the week. I spend the weekend with Dotty on the old family farm. She’s going to be worried sick.” Her mind rushed backward as she tried to remember the last time she’d been able to contact her grandmother.
“Dotty?”
“My grandmother. She’s got to be worried out of her mind. I promised I’d contact her once a week. I don’t think I’ve spoken to her since I left Boston.”
“We’ll get out of here, and then you can set her mind at ease.” He had a calmness about him, a confident way of doing
