Glad her mother wasn’t there, she clamped her jaw, resigned. It would be fine; she could do this. If her mother got involved, he would hurt her and then he would send her away again. The thought of being alone at the compound for months at a time was frightening. Lorraine was in the infirmary tending to two sick toddlers, though when she’d seen Summer earlier in the day, she’d grabbed her hand meaningfully and told her to be careful.

Softball was a dangerous sport when played with a maniac.

“You have to want to hit the ball, Summer!” He clapped his hands, once, twice, and looked at Skye, who was watching him like an attentive puppy.

Yes, yes, yes—she nodded, agreeable. Like she wanted to miss it and be humiliated in front of these people. She’d tell him anything he wanted to hear. She felt the strong urge to pee and clenched her thighs together, ashamed of her own fear.

He was in her face now, his own features alive with the same fervor he had when preaching one of his sermons.

“Watch it, Summertime. Don’t take your eyes off the ball.” And how pleasant did his voice sound to those who could hear him? Just a guy coaching the local softball team. Could they hear the threat beneath the words, or was it just her ears it was meant to sting? When she’d stopped complying, stopped journaling, stopped worshipping, he’d changed. She’d quickly become his favorite person to humiliate. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, Summer, though sin is embarrassing, and you’re filled with it.”

She gripped the bat harder, her palms sweating. If she missed the ball, she’d be deemed unteachable. Unteachable people were shamed publicly. Was that what he was after? She had to think fast. The adults watched with smiles on their faces; they were excited because Taured was excited. She could smell her own sweat and fear.

“Watch it...watch it.” His voice a low hum like a mosquito. She tried to block him out and concentrate.