She awoke back in the House of Miriam. Her sisters knelt or stood around her. Sasha was gratified to see she wasn’t the only one who’d passed out. Anne lay next to her, clearly disoriented, along with two ­other young women whose names Sasha hadn’t quite memorized. Helen sat in between them, wet washcloth in her hand, and stroked their faces.

“There, there, dears. You’ve had a terrible shock. And there’s no shame in your reactions.”

“No shame?” Mae spat the words. There was a glow to her face and a manic glint in her eyes. “Ma’am, with all due respect, I don’t know how these girls can call themselves committed to the Heavenly Kingdom if the sight of divine justice hurts them so much.”

Sasha saw anger in Helen’s eyes, but the older woman didn’t let it carry over into her voice. Instead she fixed Mae with a cool gaze and said in an even tone, “Miss Mae, one can believe in our Lord’s justice and still regret the pain that comes with it. That does not signal a lack of devotion. It signals compassion, a trait Jesus Christ had in abundance.”

Mae frowned and pursed her lips, but she kept them shut for now. Helen turned back to Sasha and the other girls who had fallen.

“Death is never easy to witness, girls. It should be a horrible thing to witness,” she glanced back to Mae, “…and we should all be worried if a day ever comes when we can see such violence without pain in our hearts. But these are dire times. The world has fallen too much for pacifism to bring back the rule of God. And so we must use violence. Do you understand?”

Sasha nodded. She heard the other girls give stuttering, hollow replies. Even the girls who’d managed to stay standing looked shaken. Mae was the only one who wore a smile. They gave her a wide berth the rest of the day.

Whoever was in charge of their schedule paid some deference to the fact that they’d been forced to watch an execution. There was no more cleaning that day. They spent the rest of the daylight hours seated around the common area in the House of Miriam, sewing uniforms. Sasha had never sewn before, but Anne sat next to her and taught her the basics.

Her hands were still shaking when they got to work, but Anne helped her and, eventually, focusing on the meticulous task allowed her blot out the horror. Once she got a good grip on the basics of what was required of her, she was able to lose herself in quiet productive flow. She was almost disappointed when Helen called them to dinner.