My Cult Leader Boss Thought I Was a Broke Temp Medic Until My Sleeve Slipped in the Infirmary Tent
A tap on the barn window made me jump. My heart hammered against my ribs.
I turned to see a frail, stooped figure peering through the grimy pane. Elder Silas Crain, Elias’s uncle, his face etched with worry lines. He held a large, weathered envelope in his trembling hand.
“Mara,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “I’ve brought something. You need to see this.”
I quickly moved to the window, the old wood frame groaning as I pushed against it. The window was stuck, but a small gap at the bottom was enough to pass the envelope through.
“I found it in the old cedar chest,” Silas said, pushing the thick paper through the crack. “In his cabin. My brother’s cabin.”
The envelope was old, the paper brittle and yellowed. It felt heavy in my hands. Inside, a single, folded sheet of parchment. It was a letter, handwritten, the ink faded but still legible. The date at the top read fifteen years ago.
“This is from your brother?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Silas nodded, his eyes cloudy with unshed tears. “My brother, Elijah. Elias’s father. He founded the Covenant, not Elias. Elias only inherited it after Elijah… after Elijah died.”
I unfolded the letter. The handwriting was precise, almost elegant, despite the tremor in the lines. It began:
*My dearest Silas, if you are reading this, then my fears have come to pass. Elias has grown too ambitious, too covetous of what I have built. He speaks of ‘expanding the flock,’ but all I see is greed in his eyes.*
I scanned down the page, my eyes catching on a specific paragraph.
*He has been tampering with the water supply to the Founder’s cabin. Small doses, at first. Enough to make Father weak, confused. Elias believes that once Father is gone, he can declare himself the true prophet, the inheritor of all our land and our tax-exempt accounts. I fear he will succeed. He has already manipulated the property deeds to put everything in his name, away from the true spirit of the Covenant.*
My breath hitched. Elias hadn’t just inherited the compound. He’d stolen it. He’d systematically poisoned his own grandfather, the original founder, fifteen years ago, to seize control of the Pinnacle Covenant and its vast assets. This wasn’t just a cult leader; he was a murderer, a thief, and a deceiver of the highest order.
Silas watched my face. “I always suspected, Mara. But I couldn’t prove it. I was afraid of what Elias would do to me if I spoke out.” His voice cracked. “My brother tried to warn me. He hid this letter away, hoping someone would find it one day.”
The implications hit me like a physical blow. This letter wasn’t just proof of Elias’s current cruelty. It exposed his entire reign as a bloody lie, founded on parricide and fraud.
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