“All right, that’s enough!” Papa shouts, waving them out of the water as I stand there, shivering.
This is what they do every time.
There’s no real test for me to pass.
It’s all theatrics.
“Take her back to the shed,” Papa instructs. “Hopefully, that got the evil out of her.”
The men bow their heads to him before carrying me back.
After they lock me back inside, I wrap the blanket around my shivering body. My teeth chatter as I curl tighter into myself.
I curse them, wishing I really were evil like they said. Then I can hurt them the same way they hurt me.
“Do you really believe the kid is evil?” one of the men asks outside the shed.
A lighter flicks.
They’re probably smoking, breaking another one of Papa’s rules. He’s the only one allowed to smoke here. He says he gets certain privileges because he’s special.
“Hell no,” the other says with a rough laugh. “Her father is fucked up in the head, but hey, aren’t we all?”
“Man, I think about leaving this place every day.”
“Careful. You remember Ope?”
“Yeah … come to think of it, I haven’t seen Ope in a while.”
“That’s because he and his wife were planning to leave. People are starting to doubt Abraham’s word. He’s starving us here.Making too many rules that are borderline cruel. And now, no one’s seen Ope since.” The man snorts. “Abraham is sleeping with Ope’s wife now.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. She told my wife that Abraham said not to tell anyone.”
“What about this girl?”
“Her mom had a miscarriage. Happens all the time. My wife’s had two. They just needed someone to blame.”
“Damn. Even their own daughter?”
“Kids aren’t always safe with their parents. They say the girl’s evil because her mama’s lost a few babies since she was born.”
I gasp, clapping a hand over my mouth.
The man lets out a long breath. “Truth is, those things happen sometimes.” He lowers his voice, almost like he’s afraid someone might hear. “The universe probably just doesn’t want that bastard raising any more kids.”
“Careful,” the other man warns.
For a moment, neither of them says anything.
Then the other man says something so low that I barely catch it. “One day, this place is going to burn to the ground.”
Tears slide down my cheeks for a different reason now.
I don’t know what a miscarriage is, but I know one thing.
It isn’t my fault.
