Laying of Hands
Nestled in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York lies a picturesque retreat for the conservative young women of the Sanctity Covenant religion, surrounded by crisp, pine-scented breezes and the endless blue shimmer of Coyote Lake. But dark secrets lurk behind closed doors at Valley of Rubies, and what emerges from the summer shadows is nothing less than terrifying.
Adel Rosse, an investigative journalist for Vanity Fair looking for a way to stand out in the cutthroat world of Manhattan journalism, has just been handed an assignment that will catapult her career—if she can survive as an undercover Creative Writing tutor at Valley of Rubies and get the scoop on what really happens there. Just as she starts to uncover the gritty truth behind the shadowy cult running the organization, she falls in love with the one woman who holds the key to the story.
Grace Waters is an old maid at twenty-six, at least by Covenant standards, and her annual idyllic summers spent teaching at Valley of Rubies are suddenly imperiled by the news that she must marry the man chosen for her at the end of the session. If she refuses, she risks being excommunicated—or worse—but a mysterious new writing instructor at camp makes her wonder what would happen if she dared to write her own story.
Pushing their boundaries in search of answers, Grace and Adel seek to redefine themselves to save their futures—and maybe each other.
Laying of Hands
Laying of Hands
Patricia Evans
Sapphire Books
Salinas, california
Laying of Hands
Copyright © 2021 by Patricia Evans All rights reserved.
ISBN EPUB - 978-1-952270-50-5
This is a work of fiction - names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without written permission of the publisher.
Editor - Heather Flournoy
Book Design - LJ Reynolds
Cover Design - Fineline Cover Design
Sapphire Books Publishing, LLC
P.O. Box 8142
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Created in the United States of America
First Edition – December 2021
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For Carter.
This book was inspired by the courage of one woman, Elissa Wall, who spoke her truth at an unbelievably young age and was instrumental in the fall of Warren Jeffs, the abusive leader of the FLDS community in which she was raised.
She stood alone and spoke when there was no one beside her or behind her, and changed the course of history as a result.
I was watching Elissa, as were countless others.
Thank you for leading us.
But this intensely personal book wouldn't have happened without the endless patience and friendship of my editor, Heather Flournoy, and her wife, Shawn Marie Bryan.
As the COVID epidemic swept the country, I was diagnosed with an unrelated health condition that unexpectedly knocked me for the proverbial loop. Suddenly, I was awash with uncertainty about the mark I wanted to leave on the world, and found myself creatively paralyzed, unable to create despite the insistent story looming inside, demanding to be written.
Heather’s voice was a lighthouse in that storm; a calm, steadying touchstone in a world I no longer recognized. Together, we navigated through the dark water around me and emerged on the other side with the story I knew had a place in our collective history of lesbian fiction.
It is because of her quiet, unparalleled talent, but perhaps more importantly, the warmth of her friendship, that the pages you are holding in your hands exist.
Heather and Shawn Marie…thank you. This book would never have happened without you, and I don't forget that kind of loyalty.
Adel Rosse wedged her luggage into the cramped glass vestibule in the Lockwood Planned Parenthood in upstate New York, her laptop bag slipping from her shoulder to dangle from the crook of her arm as she pressed the entry buzzer. For the third time.
“Yes?”
Adel glanced around for the camera she knew would be aimed at her and suppressed the desire to roll her eyes.
“I’m Adel Rosse?” She slid the bag to the floor and shook out the cramp in her arm. “The Portuguese interpreter your office requested?”
The line crackled with static as Adel waited for the door to buzz open. Two minutes later, she was still waiting.
“I’m getting confirmation on that now.” The receptionist’s voice was replaced by a long stretch of static until it reemerged abruptly. “What’s all that you have with you?”
Adel glanced down at the luggage scattered at her feet that she’d schlepped from LaGuardia Airport in Queens to Lockwood, NY via a cramped flight and a questionable taxi.
“My luggage. I was at the airport when I got the message.” Adel took a breath, shifting the weight of her suitcase off her ankle to lean against the wall, pulling her cell out of her pocket and scrolling through her recent calls. “I spoke to a Hannah Meyers?’”
A long silence echoed around the tiny vestibule, followed by a sharp buzzer and the door clicking open. Adel reached down for the handle of her suitcase and jumped as the speaker crackled to life again.
“Leave that where it is until we clear it, please.”
Adel straightened and pushed the door open with a sigh, stepping into a predictably beige waiting area as the receptionist rounded the corner of the desk snapping on a pair of latex gloves. She passed without a word, and Adel watched through the security glass window as she unzipped her overstuffed rolling bag. Piles of hastily packed clothing tumbled onto the floor in every direction, making the vestibule look instantly more like a frat house than a medical office.
She walked up to the desk just as a petite woman with a blond ponytail and a white medical jacket two sizes too big rounded the corner with a handful of files. She had dark blue eyes with blond lashes so long they brushed her cheeks as she glanced down at the computer, then back to Adel.
“Sorry. Have you been helped?” She scanned the waiting area as she spoke, which was empty except for one young woman wearing a long skirt and jean jacket in the far corner of the room. “There’s actually supposed to be someone here at the desk, but I’m happy to help you.”
Adel smiled, her eyes lingering on the pale dusting of honey-colored freckles across the woman’s nose. “I’m actually looking for Hannah Myers? I’m Adel Rosse.”
“Oh, thank God.” The woman offered her hand to Adel with a genuine look of relief. “You’re the translator?”
“Well, interpreter, but yes. I am.” Adel paused. “And you are…?”
“Sorry!” A quick smile flashed across her face. “I’m Dr. Myers. I’m the one you spoke to on the phone a few hours ago. Just call me Hannah.”
She walked out from behind the reception desk and opened the door for Adel. “Thank you so much for coming. We do usually have access to a local Portuguese interpreter, but she’s in Maine for the weeken
d.”
Adel walked through the door with a long backward glance at the entry door.
“When the receptionist gets through unpacking my bags out there, what are the chances she’ll bring them in and stick them behind the desk?”
“Oh, no.” Hannah peered around the door through the window. “Is she really doing that?”
“Yep.” Adel smiled. “And it may have turned out to be a bigger job than she thought it was going to be.”
Hannah rolled her eyes and motioned Adel down the hall.
“Jesus. Amber missed her calling as a Secret Service agent. My office is the second door on the left.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Give me a second while I put one of our medical assistants on supervision duty.”
Adel smiled and took a seat in Hannah’s office. Framed diplomas from Yale Medical School and Wellesley College in mahogany frames lined the wall behind her desk, the perfect backdrop to the empty Sonic wrappers on her desk. The room smelled faintly of lemon furniture polish and expensive perfume.
“Thank you for waiting. I’m so sorry about that.” Hannah shut the door behind her and sank into the leather chair behind her desk as a deep sigh lofted a delicate strand of blond hair from her forehead. “We had a bomb scare last week and our staff is on high alert. I’m just used to it, I guess.”
She reached under her desk and pulled out a cold bottle of water, handing it over to Adel.
“Thank you so much for coming, Adel. We have a client coming in that’s a personal friend of one of our staff. I called for an interpreter when I heard she was hesitant to come in. English isn’t her first language, and I hear you’re the best.”
“I’m happy to help.” Adel shrugged off her jacket and draped it across her lap. “Is she new to the States, or just from a Portuguese family here in the upstate?”
“I actually have no idea. The only thing I know from Amy is that she’s scared out of her mind, so I’m guessing this isn’t just a routine visit.”
“Well, I’m happy to drop by.” Adel smiled. “I’m on assignment with Vanity Fair magazine but actually not supposed to be at the location until tonight, so I was at loose ends anyway.”
“So you’re going to be in town for a while?” Hannah walked over to the sink in the corner of the room and washed her hands, drying them with a paper towel as she turned around. “Where are you on assignment? I can’t imagine anything happening in Lockwood that’s exciting enough to warrant a visit from Vanity Fair.”
“It’s the camp on the edge of town, apparently. I haven’t actually seen it yet.”
The receptionist knocked lightly on the office door and stuck her head in. “Your four o’clock just got here. She’s in exam room one.”
“Great. How is she?”
“Honestly?” She paused, lofting an eyebrow. “Looks like she’s about to bolt.”
The receptionist closed the door quietly behind her as she left, and Hannah looked at Adel. “Looks like it’s showtime. You ready?”
After Adel had signed the routine visiting volunteer papers at the desk, she washed her hands and pulled her shoulder-length dark hair back in a ponytail with the elastic she always kept around her wrist. She’d been volunteering as an interpreter at Planned Parenthood since college, so at forty-one this wasn’t her first rodeo, but the energy in the hall was strangely tense. She smoothed her hands over her travel-creased denim shirt and followed the same receptionist down the hall to the last door on the left, where she handed Adel a clipboard and headed back to the front desk.
Adel opened the door slowly to find a teenage girl with dark, waist-length hair perched on the last inch of the exam table. She visibly flinched as Adel stepped in. Adel greeted her in Portuguese, and a look of relief flashed across her face like sudden sunlight.
“I’m Adel,” she said as she put the clipboard on the counter and turned back to the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Maribel.” Her voice instantly disappeared into the silence of the room.
“Okay, Maribel.” Adel spoke softly and watched as Maribel fingered the tiny gold crucifix at her throat. “I’m not your doctor—she’ll be here in just a few minutes. I’m here to make sure you understand what’s happening, and make sure you get to ask her any questions you need to ask, okay?”
Maribel nodded. She started to say something, then stopped short and jerked her attention to the door as they heard footsteps in the hall. Her shoulders relaxed slowly as the footsteps continued past the door and clicked down the hall.
“It looked like you were about to say something,” Adel said gently. “It’s okay to ask me anything. Nothing you say will ever leave this room.”
Maribel bit her lip, taking a long moment to take the words in. “You won’t tell anyone?”
“Absolutely not. Whatever you say is between you and your doctor. I’m here to make sure you get the best care you can, but I’m bound by the same confidentiality rules as she is.”
“It’s a woman?” Maribel hesitated. “The doctor?”
Adel nodded, noting the long breath Maribel let out slowly. Adel picked up the clipboard and asked the first few questions on the forms, with Adel translating from Maribel’s Portuguese to written English.
“And what is the reason for your visit today, Maribel?”
Maribel twisted the hem of the thin exam gown with her fingers, her hair falling forward into her face, followed by tears that disappeared into the fabric of her gown. Adel wanted to pull her into her arms, make her feel safe, tell her that no one would ever hurt her again…but they both knew no one could promise her that. So they sat in the silence until Maribel steeled herself and slowly squared her shoulders.
“Do I have to tell?”
Adel thought for a moment. She’d never been asked that question, but she’d been with Planned Parenthood long enough to know that a woman’s emotional and physical welfare was paramount, so she took a guess.
“No. You don’t have to tell. But anything you tell me or your doctor is confidential, so if you feel like you can share what happened, your doctor may be able to know better what care you might need.”
Maribel’s fingers were curled into a fist, her fingers white with tension.
“I didn’t want to.” Another tear dropped from her cheek as if the first had left the door open for the rest. “I said no so many times.”
Adel slowed her breath, aware from experience that even that sound could startle a traumatized client. “You didn’t want what, Maribel?”
“I didn’t want to do the sex.” The next words tumbled out as if she needed to clear them from her body. “But he said it was my fault. That I wanted it.”
Adel caught her eye, and Maribel reached for her hand. It was small and cold.
“Maribel, you don’t have to have a reason to say no to sex. Just that one word is always enough, no matter what anyone says.”
Maribel nodded, squeezing Adel’s hand as a soft knock on the door was followed by Hannah’s voice.
After waiting for a nod from Maribel, Adel told her they were ready.
Hannah came in and smiled warmly at Adel but gave her patient space, sitting on the rolling doctor’s stool by the counter. Adel introduced Dr. Myer and Maribel nodded, looking unsure whether to breathe or bolt. Surprisingly, she chose neither.
“Maribel,” Adel said softly in Portuguese. “Is it okay with you for me to share what you just told me with your doctor?”
Maribel nodded, and Hannah listened carefully to what Adel said, concern flashing across her face. She thought for a second when Adel was finished, then asked a few more details about what had happened. Maribel haltingly recounted the recent experience of being held against her will in the back of the restaurant where she worked by the owner, who had forced himself on her for hours until she managed to escape when the workers started coming in the next day.
Hannah looked at Adel. “Can you get a rough idea of the level of violence we’re talking about here, so I know a bit more before I sta
rt?”
A few more harrowing details from Maribel led to the next question.
“And is she on any form of birth control?”
Adel relayed the question, which was answered by a silent shake of the head.
“And was this her first sexual experience?”
Adel spoke softly in a reassuring voice, which was followed by a nod from Maribel.
“Okay.” Hannah smiled at Maribel. “So let’s take a look, if that’s okay with her?”
After Adel translated, Maribel responded with another nod and allowed Hannah to guide her feet into the stirrups. Silent tears slipped down her sides of her face and dampened the dark, glossy hair at her temples as Hannah gently started the exam, explaining everything she did before it happened through Adel. Maribel said that the attack had happened about three weeks prior, so Hannah said she’d do a pregnancy test with the urine sample that they’d already collected.
“Let her know the STI checks will take a bit of time. We’ll follow up with the results and recommend treatment if needed, but the pregnancy test will be back in just a few minutes.”
Hannah told Adel they were done as she scooted backward on her stool and snapped off her latex gloves, dropping them in the trash. She smiled reassuringly at Maribel as she guided her feet out of the stirrups and had her sit up, then handed her a blanket from a warmer by the cabinets. Maribel pulled the warmth of the blanket up to her chin and spoke softly to Adel.
Adel listened, then looked at the doctor. “She wants to know if anyone will be able to tell that she’s had sex? Her family are conservative Catholics and she thinks no one will marry her if they find out.”
Hannah stood, speaking directly to Maribel as if she could understand without translation, holding her eyes with a soft understanding that slowly melted the fear from Maribel’s face. Maribel took a deep breath and closed her eyes as Adel told her what the doctor had said.