“He’s dead,” Anne whispered in a cracked, broken voice. “I went to meet him at the Cafe Clement and there were two Martyrs there, waiting for me. They both,” she stifled a sob, “…they both smiled when they told me he’d been killed. They said I should thank God for the blessing of a death in battle.”

“I’m so sorry, Anne,” Sasha said. “Susannah and I are here, though. We’ll take care of you.”

She hoped that might comfort Anne a little. But the other girl lost herself in another fit of tears. Sasha’s heart broke for her. The pain over her own, comparatively minor tragedy flowed into the empathy she felt for Anne, and soon Sasha was crying too. She was sure some of the other girls were whispering about them, egged on by Mae. She didn’t care. After a few more minutes of tears, Anne managed to clear her throat and speak again.

“The men, the Martyrs I met told me the same thing,” she said. “They told me I’d be taken care of, that they’d find God’s choice for me among the Martyrs. I tried to tell them, I don’t want anyone else, not now. I need to mourn but they said, they said…” Anne’s voice caught in her throat, and she fought to throttle another sob before she continued. “They said the Heavenly Kingdom might not be able to wait for my grief to pass.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Susannah asked. Sasha didn’t say anything, because the only answer that occurred to her was surely unhelpful. She had a strong suspicion that the Sons of Jacob had turned their eyes on Anne.

Sasha stared into Marigold’s vagina. She’d seen it before, of course, the first time they’d met. But it hadn’t been her focus then, and she’d tried very hard not to look at it too much. Now though, the point was to look. Dr. Brandt had picked her up halfway through her shift at the hospital to conduct a pap smear on the captured woman. She’d only had about an hour to practice.

“It’s a procedure I’ve done myself a hundred times,” Dr. Brandt had told her, “but that was back in the AmFed. It’s a sinful thing for a man to touch a woman other than his wife. That’s why the Israelites used midwives. That’s why we use midwives. And I think this kind of work might be why God drew you here.”

His words made her proud. She liked Dr. Brandt, for all his prickliness. She also liked learning and feeling she had a useful skill that made her special. So she’d paid close attention as Dr. Brandt had walked her through the procedure. It had been fun, and the act of learning had distracted her from her worries about Anne and her own grief over Alexander.