The smug smile evaporated.

“There, you will be flogged across your back with thirty strokes delivered by a scourge made of knotted rope. Upon delivery of the final stroke of the scourge, you will be escorted to the town limits and forever banished. The court decrees that you may be shot on sight if you violate your banishment at any time in the next twenty-four months. The public place designated by the court is the front of Simmons Gas and Goodies. The sentence will be carried out immediately.”

Her declaration brought equal parts gasps and war whoops.

Brandon-Lee made an effort to bolt away, but he had no chance. McCrea and Copley were on him in a second.

“Don’t make this hurt any more than it needs to,” McCrea said.

“You can’t do this!” Brandon-Lee yelled. No one responded.

Per the established plan, the prisoner was hustled out the back door, past Victoria’s makeshift bench. Victoria closed the door behind them and posted herself as guard. “Those of you who wish to witness the punishment may do so at George Simmons’s place. The prisoner will be brought there shortly.”

At first, no one moved. Then Mr. Jake rose from his seat in the back, which was really the front of the store, and headed out the door. Others rose slowly, and then the flood started—an orderly flood, with no pushing or shoving, but a hurried stream. Those who wanted to watch didn’t want to miss a stroke.

As the room emptied, she noted that her sons were still sitting on the windowsill. They rose and came to her. “Caleb wants to go and watch,” Luke said. “I don’t.”

“That’s fine,” Victoria said. “Both parts of that are fine.”

“Flogging’s the same as whipping, right?” Caleb asked. He looked confident, but wanted reassurance.

“That’s right.”

Caleb looked like he wanted to say something, but ultimately nodded, turned and walked back toward the door.

Luke looked disturbed, close to tears.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I don’t like this. I want things to go back to the way they were.” He swiped at his eyes. “Everybody’s mad all the time. And mean. Nobody has anything they need and everybody’s scared. I hate it.”

Victoria wanted to hug her baby boy. She wanted to comfort him the way she would have such a short time ago. But that would have done him a huge disservice. “The old ways are gone, Luke. Gone forever. We need to adjust to the way things are and try to build the future into something we want it to be.”

Luke nodded, but he didn’t seem ready to go yet.

Victoria walked to the seat that had most recently been occupied by Brandon-Lee May and patted the one used by Rory Stevenson.

Luke sat.

“So, what do you miss the most?”

“Everything.”

“Nope, you have to choose one thing.”

“My bed. And pillows. And electricity.”