After Sister Kipling took the needle out of my spine, Mom said I would be venerated as a true instrument of God’s will, just as holy as the cherubim, thrones, dominions, and virtues. Dad begged me to tamp it down, to be quiet, to be better than what the Angels had done to me. Theo told me my power would be as terrifying as the Devil and twice as righteous.

I will be good. I will make them suffer. And I will take the Angel’s greatest weapon and turn it against them.

But I’m still terrified.

It’s an hour’s walk to Reformation, Salvador tells us, and we’ll get there before noon. The heat of the February sun clings to our black clothes. Sweat beads under my arms. Roads stretch out in an endless maze of traffic.

The last time I saw Reformation Faith Evangelical Church was when I walked the pilgrimage with Theo.

He was so excited on the way there, transfixed on the squad escorting us through the city because his father wasn’t there and that was the next best thing. On the way back, he was so sick, he could hardly walk. As soon as we were back within the New Nazareth walls, I brought him water as his guts revolted the way mine are now, pieces of his insides dangling from his lips. The only difference is that he got better, because he’d only taken a little bit. He’d taken one step closer to God, but only one. He was strong enough to fight off the infection, so he was strong enough to become a soldier. Proof of God’s favor.

Theo’s future squadmates laughed when I wiped his face, asking when we planned to put a ring on it. I’d touched his bare shoulders, hadn’t I? Kissed him, even? And the reverend mother’s daughter, no less. What a whore. Theo should’ve done the right thing and proposed already, before word got out and I made a disgrace of myself.

A few months later, he did. Not that we had a choice. Mom caught us having sex, and it was either get engaged or be cast from the family. Mom never would have actually disowned me—she had plans for me—but she said it anyway, spitting it in between scriptures, demanding I have more respect for my body than this. What if I had gotten pregnant? Would I have the strength to drown my newborn the way I should? She dragged me out of bed by the hair, threw Theo’s clothes at him, and said we had to make a choice.