20. Bianca
Chapter 20
Bianca
A chill clings to the air around us, and I tug the small blanket up closer around my neck, then roll to my side. I’d moved my cot closest to the bars separating Silas and I, wanting to be closer to him and not caring if it makes me look weak.
I’m terrified.
Because I know that if we don’t find a way to escape, there’s no chance River is letting us go home. He’ll kill us, bury our bodies here, and never think about it again.
I study Silas’s profile in the dim light, but I can’t make out much. I do see that his eyes are closed, his breathing soft. Is he awake? Or did he finally catch the same sleep I’m desperately chasing?
It’s far too dark to read my Bible, thanks to the single dim light over the door leading up to the main house, but I still clutch the book to my chest, running my fingers over the pages for comfort. We buried a man today.
Rescued two from the pit—for now.
And I promised them all I would help them get free.
How I’m supposed to do that, I’m not sure. But I know that one day, I’ll see their freedom. Somehow. I feel it.
“You awake?”
“Yeah,” I reply.
Silas stands and grips his cot, then drags it across the floor until he’s right beside the bars—mere inches from me. Without another word, he lies down on his back and puts his right arm behind his head.
“You got to those people today.”
I smile into the darkness. “You think?”
“I do. What you said meant a lot to them. Especially after everything they’ve been through. You gave them hope.”
“God’s Word gave them hope,” I reply. “I merely read the words.”
“You did more than that,” Silas replies. “You also promised them freedom.”
“I did.” I sigh. “Not sure how I’ll manage that one.”
“I’ll help you.”
I look over at him again. “You will?”
He turns to look at me. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?” The ghost of a smile graces his handsome face and my heart skips as my stomach warms.
“I guess not.”
Silas smiles. “Tell me about your mother.”
“What? Why?”
“When we were in the jungle, I talked about my family. My parents, sister—but you never said anything about yours. Now, I get why you never mentioned your father or uncle, but what about your mother? Do you have any siblings?”
As it always does, the mere thought of my mother brings a heavy wave of grief over me. But this time, now that I’ve found peace through God, the weight is a bit less, and I catch myself smiling softly.
“She made the best pancakes in the world. We had a woman who cooked for us, but every Saturday morning, my mother would make pancakes, bacon, and eggs.”
“What I wouldn’t give for a pancake right now,” Silas jokes.
“I know.” I laugh. “My stomach is growling just talking about it. I’d wake up to the scent of breakfast cooking, and come rushing down the stairs. No matter how old I got, it was the best part of my week. Saturday mornings with my mom. That and the crunchy peanut butter I’d smear all over my pancakes.”
“Crunchy peanut butter?” he asks, making a disgusted face that has me laughing.
“Don’t knock it till you try it, Williamson. When we get out of here, I’m taking you to the diner and you’re going to try it.”
He grins. “It’s a date.”
My heart leaps in my chest. Have things truly shifted this drastically between us? Or is the change just because we once again find ourselves only able to rely on each other?
“Do you look like her?” he asks suddenly.
“I think so?” I say. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. She was always so beautiful and feminine. There was a softness about her, even though I knew she could be tough as nails when she needed to be.”
“It sounds like you’re just like her.”
Butterflies fill my stomach at his compliment, and I no longer feel like a girl in the midst of a nightmare, but rather a foolish teen with her first crush.
Silas Williamson does that to me.
“She was a good person. I struggled though, for a long time after her death. Trying to understand why she would marry a man like Lucian.”
“People make mistakes.”
“That they do,” I reply. “But that seemed like such a large one.”
“Maybe she didn’t know who he was.”
“I think she knew parts of it,” I admit. “I think on some level, she believed she could fix him. When I was younger, she’d push for us to go on these vacations. No guards, no phones, no communication with anyone outside of our family. I think she was trying to get him to see what life could be like if he left everything else behind.”
“There’s another thing you two have in common.”
“What’s that?” I ask, turning to look at him again, only this time I find him watching me. The intensity of his gaze, even in the dim light of this prison, knocks the breath from my lungs.
“You both think you can fix everyone. Her with him, you with me.”
“I’m not trying to fix you, Silas.”
“No?”
“You’re not broken. You think you are, and perhaps pieces of you are chipped, but you’re still the best man I know. Strong, courageous, kind…willing to sacrifice everything for the innocent.”
He looks away from me. “You don’t know the anger I carry, Bianca. The weight of it all.”
“Then tell me about it.” This is the most open he’s ever been with me, and I’m almost afraid to respond. Whether it’s fear that we won’t survive this or loneliness driving him to open up, I don’t care. The why doesn’t matter. Just that he is.
“I’m angry about what happened to my team. They were good men. Men who had families and futures. They should have grown to be old men watching their grandchildren play in the yard.” He falls silent a moment, but since I sense he’s not done, I don’t say anything. “And my sister, what sense is it that she died? She had a little girl to take care of, she’d just gotten her dream job, bought her first house, and then she was gone, just like that.” He snaps his fingers.
“I wish I had an answer for you. For all of it.”
“You’ve suffered. Lost your mother. How can you have such faith when faced with so much pain?”
I consider his question because I know that my answer carries a weight even I can’t fully comprehend. “Because I know that there will come a time when pain will be no more. When God will wipe the tears from our eyes and grant us more peace and comfort than we can even imagine. I know that even though we suffer here, He won’t leave us in it. Even if we can’t see the end of the tunnel, it’s there.”
“How can you cling to your faith like that? How do you know?”
I consider his question, trying to come up with an answer that will make sense to him. “Truthfully, it’s a feeling. I don’t know how else to put it into words. I just feel the promise. The peace in knowing God’s Word to be fact.”
“I still only see words on paper.”
“I was like that, too, you know,” I tell him. “I actually started out reading a Bible on my tablet because I couldn’t understand how Lance had such faith. How he brought Eliza into it and helped Michael, Elijah, and Jaxson with theirs. It didn’t make sense to me.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t tell anyone I was reading it because I was embarrassed that I didn’t feel the same connection everyone else did. But after I learned that River was after me, that my old life was haunting me all over again, I found myself standing outside the church because I felt like it’s where I was supposed to go. A voice in my head telling me that it’s okay. That even if I’m not a Sunday morning girl, I was still welcome.”
“Did you go in?”
“Not alone. Pastor Redding was on his way out. He asked me to come inside, and even though I wanted to walk away, I couldn’t ignore the feeling in my chest, a weight that told me to take another step forward, so I did.”
“So Pastor Redding taught you to believe.”
“Pastor Redding offered me a place to rest. A place to lay the pain, stress, and heaviness of life. Somewhere I didn’t have to be strong. I could just be the daughter of a King. The daughter of a God who, even as society screams otherwise, chose me even before He knit me together in my mother’s womb.” I think back to Psalm 139. About the peace I found when I read it.
“And it was that easy.”
I snort. “There’s nothing easy about it,” I tell him. “It feels like the second I started really believing and actively seeking my relationship with Him, the world came crumbling down around me even more so than it already was.”
“How do you explain that then?” Silas asks as he gets to his feet and begins to pace. “Why would God punish you for believing in Him?”
“He’s not punishing me,” I reply. “It’s not Him causing my pain. And while it took me a bit to see that, I understand it now. In those moments, when everything feels like it’s smothering me and the weight of the world is crushing, I turn to God. I ask Him for strength, for hope.”
“Does He deliver?”
“Yes.”
“We’re still here.”
“But look at what we can accomplish.” I get to my feet as well and move toward the bars where Silas stands. “The people we can help. The peace we can bring them.” Hope spreads through me like wildfire, igniting me with purpose. I reach forward and touch his forearm through the bars. “Silas, we can save these people. We can bring them God. Freedom. Hope. Peace. Security.”
Silas stares back at me, his expression unreadable. He could think I’m insane, and while that would suck, I’m fully prepared for it because I found a reason in my pain. A chance to fight for good in the middle of this nightmare.
Silas steps closer to the bars and stares down at me, his eyes full of emotion. He reaches up and brushes strong fingers over my cheek. I shiver at the touch, at the tenderness. “I don’t know how I feel about God,” he admits softly. “But I’m glad you’ve found peace, Bianca. I truly am.”
“Open your heart, Silas, and you can find peace, too.”
He smiles. “I’m learning that anything is possible.” He drops his hand and returns to his cot.
I do the same, lying back and staring up at the ceiling.
Silas reaches through the bars and takes my hand, linking his fingers with mine as we lie side-by-side, separated by iron and four inches of space.
“No matter what, I promise you that I’ll help you free these people,” he says. “Even if it means neither of us leave this place, I can die knowing I tried to make a difference. I think Eloise could be proud of that.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, clinging to his hand like a tether.
“Eloise will always be proud of you, Silas, but we’ll make it home so you can share the story yourself.”
Lord, please soften Silas’s heart. Please reach him and help him see the truth that his peace can only be found with You. Lord, please use me to bring these people to freedom. Please use me to help them find You and Your truth. God, please let our time here mean something. I ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen.
A tear rolls down my cheek, but I don’t wipe it away. I let it fall, slipping down my face and onto the cot beneath me as I drift off to sleep.