The last note of the song slowly fades out. The doors to the sanctuary close. The only light comes in through the tall, high windows and the lanterns set on the stage, the candles flickering on the pulpit. The lack of electricity makes Kincaid Chapel feel like twilight, even at the height of day. Theo sits up straighter and lifts his chin, just like we were all raised to do.

“Good morning, all!” Reverend Brother Ward crows. “What a wonderful, glorious day we’ve had. Oh, what a blessing!”

Answering calls ripple through the congregation. I tug at the skirt of my dress to keep it from sticking to my thighs. I have to stop myself from ripping the fabric. I need to feel it tear. I hate it, I hate it.

“I want to begin our worship service by offering a prayer to our savior, our Lord, because He has answered our prayers.”

“Yes!” someone cries. I want to burrow into the floor and never come up.

“He has brought our blessed Seraph back to us! Let us close our eyes and raise our hands.” I squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I can get them and keep my hands clamped in my lap. Block out Mom, Reverend Brother Ward, Theo, and everything else. “Let us glorify Him in thanks! Thank you, God, for what You have done for us! First you sent your Son to save us, and now this daughter to lead us! We are honored to continue fighting the battle You have ordained for us.”

With my eyes closed, I swear I could reach out and touch the red stream flowing through the culling fields. I can smell the bodies of the weak and the failures hanging from the trees. I can hear the rustling of feathers, the scrape of teeth, the wet heavy breathing of Seraph between Ward’s cries.

I don’t feel God. I don’t even feel the peace I used to be able to snatch from the jaws of monsters.

Just the culling field and the beast.

“We will continue to do Your holy works, follow You in Your infinite majesty, Your goodness, Your mercy toward us sinners—those who fight for You, and even in those who have turned from You. In every way, You are glorious and perfect. In Jesus’s name, Amen! Raise your eyes, faithful, and may we lay our gaze upon the one who will lead us in this struggle!” My eyes snap open. “Sister Woodside, blessed Seraph, if you would honor us!”

No. No, no, no.

Mom turns her perfect smile on me. Theo shines as bright as the stars.

“Go on,” he whispers. “You can do it.”

“I—”

“Go,” Mom says.

One more day. One more day.

My leg shaking, my body turning to rot underneath me, I stand and climb the stairs to the pulpit. Reverend Brother Ward clasps my hands in his.