She studied the older man for a few seconds. Peaceful, lost to the reality of where he was or what was about to become of him. Perfectly ignorant. She felt a tinge of envy. While she’d been battling doubts and fear since agreeing to Sylous’s guidance, he’d been at peace, oblivious to the problems of the world.

He would never even know she’d aided in his passing.

That burden was for her to carry, and she would carry it for the good of the world. A price she was willing to pay, she’d told herself a handful of times. Sylous had called her to walk this path, and she would always follow where he directed.

Even so, her hands shook as she held up the syringe and vial. “Forgive me,” she whispered. “I have no choice.” She looked back at Ben’s still face. “I’m protecting your children, you understand? I’ve always protected them.” She kept her voice low but felt the need to speak the words—a kind of absolution for what she was about to do. “Your sacrifice will eliminate the threat against your children.”

It was true. Though she spoke it for her sake, not his. And her speaking seemed to calm her somewhat.

She uncapped the needle, lifted the vial, and pierced the cap. Three cubic centimeters of the amber fluid was all she needed, and it flowed into the syringe with ease.

It would be simple: inject the potassium chloride into his IV and, without any suffering, his heart would cease to beat. Easy and painless.

But she was hesitating. Her hands were still trembling.

Murder is a sin, an offense against God. But so was failing to protect his bride, the faithful few of true religion who’d come out from among the world. Could she commit one sin to justify not committing another?

Was wiping out Sodom and Gomorrah a sin? Was killing Jesus a sin? Even slaughtering children wasn’t beyond God. In truth, Ben was now a Fury. Killing a Fury was a good thing.

So why was it so hard?

Rose swallowed as the shake in her hands worsened. “I am only doing what has to be done,” she whispered to Ben. “Sylous commands it.”

She reached for the thin plastic line of his IV. “You won’t suffer,” she said, silencing the opposition in her mind and placing the needle into the IV line. “You won’t feel any pain, and I promise the same will go for the boy. But you have to understand, I must do God’s will and protect Haven Valley.”

Rose pressed the plunger, releasing the heavy dose of potassium chloride that would quickly find its way into Ben’s bloodstream. A ball of tension rolled through her gut, yet she held steady. She was doing this for her people, for her children, for Sylous, who was the voice of God.