Over the last year Sasha had started building up a stockpile of what she called “Defensive Smiles.” She had one for when her parents were worried. Another for her (few) friends, and another for the school administrators. The smiles were calculated to reassure everyone that she was still normal Sasha, and she certainly wasn’t planning to escape to the Heavenly Kingdom.

But she’d never worked up a smile for Mr. Dane. She genuinely enjoyed his class, so it hadn’t seemed necessary. She decided to go with her “Friend Smile” and hope that worked.

“I’m OK. I’m just, y’know,” inspiration hit her, “…the news today is so scary, what’s happening down in Texas. I’m worried.”

Mr. Dane visibly relaxed. “Ah, yes. I can see why you’d be troubled by that. I think it’s taken everyone a bit by surprise.” He paused and struggled with his words. “I…expect it must be somewhat more difficult for you than the rest of the class, being a Christian.”

Her smile faltered a bit. She knew she was supposed to act like one of the tame preachers the government trotted out, the men and women who’d claim Christianity was all about peace and love. They’d say that the Lord’s truth could co-exist with the “equal truths” of other faiths, and with the secular world of the AmFed. That all felt wrong to her. But a little imitation was worth avoiding suspicion.

“My faith is stronger than a handful of terrorists,” she said to Mr. Dane. “There are a lot of Christians in the Secular forces, you know. They’ll win in the end, won’t they?”

Mr. Dane’s smile remained unchanged, but his eyes bored into hers. Sasha was more comfortable with eye contact than most teens but she found this deeply uncomfortable. Invasive, even. After several long seconds he spoke.

“I fear it’s going to be a long, bloody fight before that happens. We’re very lucky to be insulated from all that madness. You know,” he sighed. “An eleventh-grader over at Jefferson High was killed fighting in Dallas yesterday. The news just broke.”

Sasha hadn’t been aware. But thank God for him, and his sacrifice, she thought.

“That’s awful,” she said. “I can’t imagine what his parents must be going through.”

“No, you can’t,” he agreed. And then Mr. Dane broke eye contact. He looked down at the ground, and his voice dropped an octave as he asked, “Did you know I had a son?”

Genuine surprise passed over Sasha’s face. “No sir, I didn’t.”

He shrugged and gave up on his smile. It wasn’t much more than a ghost now, anyway.

“I married young. I was a dad at nineteen. And by the time he was nineteen, the whole country was coming apart.”