I stood there in the silence, hand tightening around the book.
What did she mean by that?
I saw Karina out of the corner of my eye and turned toward her before she had the chance to speak.
“Where are we going now?”
I wasn’t ready for another truth session or transfusion. The idea of going through that torture again made my palms sweat and muscles tense.
“It’s time for your first faith session.”
My stomach knotted. Not another truth session, thank the gods—despite that, I couldn’t stop the prickle in my palms or the way my pulse hammered like a drum. Faith sessions sounded harmless. A little talking, maybe some empty philosophy. But the truth sessions had sounded harmless too—and they’d scraped me raw.
Karina didn’t offer comfort. She just walked, silent as always, through hollow halls that echoed with each step. I trailed after her, questions chewing holes in my tongue. Finally, I said, “You’re always escorting me around, but I never see you leave like the others. Don’t you ever wish you could go home?”
She stopped. Turned just enough that I caught the flicker in her eyes before the mask snapped back on.
“This is home.”
Then she pushed open a door with her hand and looked at me expectantly. I got the message.
I took a deep breath and entered the room.
I’d expected a small, quiet room. Instead, a dozen chairs formed a loose semicircle, half-filled with the other culled. Their heads turned as one when I stepped inside. The air shifted—thick, sharp with unspoken judgment.
“Find a seat,” a man’s voice said.
Dr. Holcrum stood at the front. I’d seen him before, when I first met Dr. Sinters. His watery hazel eyes locked on me now, bright with something that wasn’t quite warmth.
I slid into the chair farthest from the others, leaving a single empty seat as a buffer.
Holcrum clasped his hands and scanned the crowd of us.
“Welcome. For those who don’t know me, I assist Dr. Sinters from time to time, but my primary position within the program is lead faith counselor.”
He let his gaze sweep over us slowly, like an angler deciding which hook to cast first.
“Questions before we begin?”
The boy to my left raised his hand. “Why do we have to do both truth and faith sessions?”
Holcrum’s eyes gleamed. “Ah, good question. Truth sessions are individual. They strip away what holds you back—your lies, your illusions. Faith sessions…” He splayed his hands. “Faith sessions are about the soul. Ascension is impossible if the spirit isn’t open to receive it.”
He paused, grin sharpening.
“Shall we begin?”
Silence.
“Good,” he said, stepping closer. “When you think of divinity, what comes to mind?” He pointed suddenly at an unsuspecting boy in the crowd. “You. Answer.”
“Um… the gods?”
“Most assume divinity belongs only to the gods. But did you know mortals carry divinity too?”
Low whispers rippled through the circle. Holcrum grinned wider.
“Mortals are shaped from both the Ground and Our Lady herself. Half deity. That spark is buried deep inside—but with the right key, we can unlock it.”
