After Marigold had enough food in her, she began to think more clearly. She touched her ripped sleeve and remembered the way the crowd had tried to tear her apart the night before. They had swarmed her. It was as though the mass of people had lost their minds. They all wanted something from her, and they didn’t care how they got it.

“Why am I in here?” she asked the sheriff.

The sheriff was staring at his desk, writing. “You were out cold. Couldn’t leave you there. Those people woulda killed you.”

“Those people were going crazy,” Coot added.

“I didn’t do nothing wrong. You can’t keep me in here.”

The sheriff didn’t look up from his desk. “No, I can’t, but it ain’t safe out there, I can tell you that much.”

“You can’t hold me in this cell like a crook,” she said.

“I’m doing it for your own good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Marigold.

“It means you’re safer in here,” said the sheriff. “A lot safer than you’d be out there with the nutjobs.”

“I wanna go home right now,” she said.

“Can’t do that, ma’am,” said the sheriff, still writing. “Too dangerous.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it? I got rights, just like anyone else.”

The officer set down his pencil. “Okay, you wanna go home? Fine. Go home. But half the folks in the county think you’re the Virgin Mary, and the other half think you oughta be burned at the stake. If you like those odds, be my guest.”

“What’re you talking about?” she said.

“I’m talking about earlier this morning, when Roger Farland and his sons showed up at Cowikee’s with shotguns, looking for you.”

“Roger Farland?” she said. “Who’s that?”

“He’s a nut who thinks you’re a witch. Wants to do his Christian duty and get rid of evil on the planet.”

“A witch?” said Coot. “How could anyone think that?”

“These are hard times,” said the sheriff. “People think they saw a man get raised from the dead. They don’t know what to think.”

“Sheriff,” said Marigold, “I demand that you let me outta here this second.”

“Fine,” the sheriff said, opening a desk drawer and removing a ring of keys. “Suit yourself. Go back to your house of ill repute and see if I care.” He opened her cell door. “But I can’t do nothing for you when you leave here, just remember that. I can’t keep you safe.”

“Safe?” she said. “Roger Farland and his sons sound like they’re crazy, but surely they don’t think I’m really a witch. How could anyone think that?”

“I don’t know, but they do, and they aren’t the only ones.”