Call Me Evil, Let Me Go: A mother’s struggle to save her children from a brutal religious cult

I dared not go home in case someone spotted me, reported me to Black and I was hauled into his office and asked why I wasn’t working. So I suggested to Kath that we go back to the recording room. She agreed and as soon as we were safely inside we locked the door. It was something I did when I had a lot to do and didn’t want to be disturbed, so in itself that wouldn’t arouse suspicion. If someone should knock on the door and want to speak to either of us for whatever reason, I decided, I would sit on the book. Kath and I then sat at adjacent desks and began reading our books. I took a green highlighter and marked the sentences that meant something to me. There were so many I nearly ran out of ink. I also began crying so much I could hardly breathe. I have never read anything so fast, but it was vital to dash through it before anyone disturbed us. At the same time I couldn’t skip a single word. The contents mesmerized me and I recognized an enormous amount of similarity between what was being described in the book and my life at Tadford. As I turned each page I realized more and more clearly what sort of place I was in. It felt as if I were being given a powerful electric shock that was reawakening the real me that had been crushed for so many years. My reaction was that everything about my life at Tadford was completely shattered and that I had been part of one big lie. I saw with rare clarity that I had to get out. The only question was: how?

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