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Beyond A Substitute 52
The workshop wound down with laughter, a few questionable blends, and several people loudly swearing that spirulina tasted like regret. Everyone carried their smoothies into the courtyard, lounging beneath umbrellas and near small fountains while sipping and trading recipes. Katherine walked slowly with Carolina toward the benches near the rose bushes. Their smoothies were a calming shade of green—mint and mango, with a hint of ginger. The girls found a quiet bench surrounded by blooms, the air sweet with the scent of late spring. Petals dusted the stone path like a soft pink snowfall. Katherine sat back, cradling her drink, and let her shoulders drop. Her muscles still remembered the massage from earlier. Her head felt clearer than it had in months. Carolina chatted about something funny one of the instructors had said, and Katherine laughed—quiet, real laughter. And then, on the other side of the field, Kingsley. He was still by the tent, pretending to be deep in discussion
Beyond A Substitute 51
The sun had warmed the winding path by the time Katherine and Carolina made their way toward the wellness center nestled at the edge of the retreat grounds. The roof was covered in moss, and the doorway was framed by thick wisteria vines, their purple blooms curling like lazy fingers in the breeze. Carolina gave a dramatic sigh and stretched her arms above her head as they approached. “Girl, I need someone to snap my spine back into place. I swear, one more emotional ceremony and I’m going to need a chiropractor.” Katherine chuckled, a soft sound, barely louder than the leaves rustling overhead. “You don’t need a chiropractor. You need to stop sleeping diagonally.” “I sleep like a goddess in the shape of a starfish. Don’t shame me.” Katherine smiled again, grateful for Carolina’s humor. It had carried her through more than a few sleepless nights. Inside the massage center, the lighting was low and warm, like candlelight through amber glass. A gentle instrumental soundtrack p
Beyond A Substitute 50
Kingsley awoke before dawn, long before the faint glow of morning began to seep through the slatted cabin window. His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft shadows of early light. For a moment, he simply lay there in stillness, the silence of the retreat settling around him like a second blanket. But it wasn’t sleepiness that held him in bed—it was something else. Katherine. She’d laid her head on his shoulder. His fingers, still resting faintly over the spot on the sheet where his hand had curled around hers last night, flexed slightly as if to remember the shape of her. The sensation had stayed with him—her warmth, trust, and silence that spoke volumes. She hadn’t flinched. She hadn’t pulled away. If anything, she’d leaned in. That single hour had stretched into something much more than time. It had been permission. It had been forgiveness—unspoken but felt. He closed his eyes again, breathing in slowly, letting himself replay it. He exhaled now in the morning stillnes
Beyond A Substitute 49
The sun had mellowed from its morning brilliance, casting a soft amber light over the grove where the next workshop would take place. Tall pine trees ringed the space like silent guardians, their shadows stretching long over the soft, loamy earth. The breeze was gentle and carried the clean scent of bark, wild herbs, and the faint floral notes from a nearby meadow. Wooden benches had been arranged in a large circle, enough for every participant, and the center was marked with a low wooden table stacked with soft, blindfolds and peculiar objects wrapped in cloth—weighted stones, wooden blocks, and small bags of grain. Lunch had been quiet, and reflective, a necessary pause after the emotionally charged Shield Collage. Now, the facilitators stood before the group again, gentle and attentive as always. “Welcome back,” said Juniper, one of the lead facilitators, her tone soft but grounded. “This afternoon is a workshop we call Carry the Burden. Some of you will remember a version of t
Beyond A Substitute 48
The afternoon sunlight broke through the pine trees in soft, golden shafts, slanting through the forest canopy like strands of warmth pulled straight from the sky. After the heavy morning of mirror work—after the silence, the reckoning, the pain of facing their own eyes for far too long—there was something almost sacred in the way the retreat facilitators gently herded the campers across the wooden path and into the next space. It wasn’t one of the regular pavilions this time. This was a different building, tucked behind the main dining hall. From the outside, it looked like an old converted barn, all weathered wood and vines curling up around its sides. But when the double doors creaked open, a surprising wash of color greeted them. Bright rugs were thrown across the floor in a patchwork of blues and reds. Floor cushions were arranged in a wide circle. There were two long tables at the back, cluttered with magazines, newspapers, markers, old buttons, broken jewelry, faded feathers,
Beyond A Substitute 47
It was early, the kind of early that still felt like the tail end of night. The sky outside hadn’t made up its mind yet—somewhere between blue and black, like the world was stretching out of a long sleep but hadn’t rubbed its eyes. There was a light chill in the air that hadn’t been there the day before, and the trees rustled like they were passing secrets down a line. Inside the camp’s main dining lodge, breakfast had a quieter tone than usual. Not somber, but softer. People moved with a stillness, carrying plates of oatmeal, hard-boiled eggs, fresh fruit, and herbal tea like they didn’t want to wake something inside themselves. Conversation was minimal, a few murmured greetings here and there, forks clinking against ceramic bowls. Even the staff, usually bright-eyed and chatty, moved more gently this morning, as if respecting a kind of hush that had descended across the entire retreat. Katherine sat near the far window, a small plate of apple slices and a cup of green tea in fro
Beyond A Substitute 46
The sun was still rising when a bell rang out gently across the campgrounds. A soft breeze rustled the trees as campers made their way toward the open-air breakfast pavilion, the aroma of brewed coffee and toasted granola filling the space. There was a strange kind of buzz in the air—an undercurrent of anticipation. A facilitator clapped lightly for attention. “Good morning, everyone! Just a quick reminder—today is Calling Day. If you’d like to check in with your family, friends, or workplace, the call center will be open all day. You can also stop by to find out if anyone left you a voice message. If there’s something waiting for you, it’ll be played in your private booth.” Around the pavilion, heads nodded, and conversations stirred. Katherine poked at her fruit bowl, quietly listening. Carolina glanced at her. “You going to call anyone?” Carolina asked. Katherine shrugged. “Maybe. I didn’t tell many people I was coming. Just Jordan.” Carolina arched a brow. “Jordan, h
Beyond A Substitute 45
The breakfast hall buzzed with soft chatter, spoons clinking against ceramic bowls, the occasional yawn slipping through conversation. Morning light filtered through the open windows, golden and gentle, cutting across long wooden tables where campers gathered in mismatched sweatshirts and socks. Katherine sat beside Carolina, nursing a cup of green tea she hadn’t quite decided to drink. Across the hall, Kingsley sat two tables away, not looking at her—but she could feel his presence like a warm pull in her chest. Just then, one of the facilitators stepped up onto the little wooden platform near the front. She clapped once, sharp and light. “Good morning, everyone,” she said with a smile. “Quick announcement before the next activity.” The room quieted. “If you have a message you’d like to send to your family or friends,” she continued, “tomorrow is our official Calling Day. You’re welcome to come by the call center any time after breakfast. You can make a voice message or lea
Beyond A Substitute 44
They were told to meet by the trailhead after lunch. A long path carved into the woods had been marked with ribbons, and the staff guided them forward in silence, their footsteps crunching against damp leaves and soft earth. The air was cooler under the trees, thick with the scent of moss, bark, and something old—something ancient. Katherine breathed it in deeply as she walked beside Carolina, who was unusually quiet. Kingsley walked a few paces behind them. Devon was up ahead. No one was talking. It felt like the forest itself had hushed them. When they arrived at the wide-open space beneath a massive canopy of branches, the facilitator stepped forward. She was barefoot, standing confidently in the grass, with wind teasing her hair and sunlight falling in pieces through the leaves. “Welcome,” she said gently. “This is a release ceremony. A very special part of your journey, Today,” one of the facilitators said gently, “you are going to scream.” A few participants laughed awkw
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