“Any signs of rebellion?” Master Prophet narrows his eyes.
My father answers, “She sings too freely. Questions too much.”
“She won’t once I’m done with her.” Gideon smiles wickedly. “Silence and obedience are virtues.”
He touches my chin. Tilts it upward.
“She’s got a pretty face. Shame to see her prideful.”
Mother says nothing.
I meet his yellowing eyes and hold his gaze for a second. Then I look away.
It’s over. I’m done for.
When they leave, the house falls silent except for a wind rattling the windows like the bones of something long buried.
“I won’t marry him,” I vow.
No one looks at me.
“You’ve been chosen.” Mother begins to busy herself with house chores.
“I don’t care.”
My father stands forebodingly. “You’ll do what you’re told.”
“No.” My throat closes. “He’s old.”
“Daughter.” Mother grips my arm. “You don’t have the luxury of preference.”
“I don’t belong to him.”
“You don’t belong to yourself,” Father says.
The words split me open.
“I don’t want to be property,” I whisper.
The slap knocks the air from my lungs. My head snaps sideways. My cheek burns. I blink to find the room tilting.
“Enough.”Father raises his hand to strike again. “Youshameus.”
“I won’t do it,” I say again.
He grabs my arm. Mother doesn’t intervene. He drags me toward the pantry room.
I fight, but I’m not strong enough. The door slams shut behind me. A bolt locks into place.
Darkness.
The air is thick with the smell of onions, stored grain, and old soap. I scream. Shriek until my throat shreds.
No one comes.
I pound on the door with both fists. “Let me out!”
I claw at the wood. I sob. I beg.
