And then suddenly, out of nowhere, she felt a sudden revelation. She closed the book and kissed it. No, it wasn’t a just God punishing her for her transgressions but a corrupt community of hypocrites trying to destroy her for all she was doing right! It was because she had taken this community at their word, loved God, and kept His commandments; because she had refused to betray all the ideals that they had instilled in her and that she loved. For that, they would never forgive her.

I am doing the right thing, she understood. No matter what happens, I must hold on to that. All that I’ve learned here, all that I’ve been taught from the holy books of the Torah has led me to this moment, to these decisions that will now destroy my life here, making me an outcast.

The words of the psalm came back to her:

My enemies abounded with life and they that hate me wrongfully were multiplied.

They that repay evil for good oppose me because I pursue that which is good.

She would not, could not, do differently. Something in her had changed permanently, she realized. She was not that morally compromised girl who had been able to keep working for a corrupt company producing bogus products that destroyed lives to keep her paycheck. She had truly done teshuva. She was a different person now, she thought. A better one.

She closed her eyes and felt God streaming inside her, illuminating the darkness, lightening her heavy heart. She laughed out loud. Against all reason, she suddenly felt happy. He was real! And He was still there. He had not left her. The same God that lit the streetlamps, sent a jogger and his son to rescue her eight-year-old self from the monster who had threatened to taint her young life with the lifelong horror of violation and pain, transforming the experience instead into a touchstone of faith and gratitude, would always be there for her. And what she was doing now, she told herself, would please Him and make Him proud. It was as simple as that.

She stretched, walking to the window. Spring had come to Boro Park. The sparse trees that lined the gray sidewalks were becoming lush and green again, and the dull, cold light of winter had been replaced by a warming golden glow that slid through the narrow gaps between the crowded brick houses like honey.