From His Prison To Sweet Freedom

ll of a New Age guru who let my mother di

allery of my deepest fears. He demanded symbolic gestures of loyalty that chipped away at my so

ore to protect me b

de a fata

our divorce had ju

ht to the airport, and started a livestrea

pte

Cob

, splashed across magazine covers and talk shows. Alya Cobb, the ordinary girl, and Jason Rodriguez, the brilliant CEO wh

ths ago, ever

way the rest of the world did: on a news

with Mysterious Wellness Guru Genesis Ca

an with an adoration I hadn't seen in his eyes for months. It

a serene smile that looked practiced. The media called her a New Age visionary. They said she could read energy fiel

wellness sanctuary," a sprawling compound in the desert. He attended her seminars

r article. The pain was a physical thing, a cold weight that made it hard to bre

sterile living room of our Silicon Valle

. He didn't seem surprised to see me. There was no guilt in his eyes, only

my voice trembling

eyes unreadable. "What is

him and Genesis glowing in the di

is," he said, his voice soft, almost

ack, my hand flying to my mouth. My vision blurred.

lame, Alya. That

My face was pale, all the blood dr

tention of divorcing you. You are still Mrs. Rodriguez. But I need you to understand.

just... accept this? To stand by while you parade this woman around as the love of your

lt a sob building in m

something, but my body wouldn't obey.

to the man he used to be. It whispered that this was j

ope was the beg

e never wavering. She rearranged the furniture to "improve the energy flow." She replaced my personal p

r. The doctors said her only chance was an experime

ason had put in charge of the household

d, her voice like soft chimes. "But Jason and I have discussed this. Your mother's journey is her own, a

trol finally snapping. "This isn't a lesson,

greatest healing is in letting go. Her energy must be allowed to follow its natural c

mother," I snarle

the doorway. He saw my raised hand, he saw the tears streaming down

o his side. "I was just trying to explain to Alya that her mother's journey is

to her room," he ordered the two bodyguards standing behind him. "She needs

er is dying! Please, you have to help her. You promi

ingers from his arm, one by one. "I made a promise to Genesis now," he

cavernous house. They threw me into my bedroom and the soft

He had held my hand in the ambulance, his face streaked with dirt and tears

ght, the silence broken only

or opened. Genesis stood

go," she said, her voice devoid of

d it felt like dying washed over me.

ve energy lingering," she continued, swiping a finger across the tablet. "He ar

the tablet

he sound was just the rush of high-altitude wind and a dry, unsettling rustle. I couldn't see t

myself at Genesis, my grief and fury a white-hot e

, pulling me off her, his gri

I shrieked, fighting against

bing Genesis behind him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a checkb

zeros I couldn't count them and tri

de me. A harsh, dry cough ripped through me, stealing the air

licker of something-was it shock? alarm?-in his cold eyes. I remembere

was dead. I decided right then a