Mr. Pyo ignores him and continues. “We will put the girls’ transgression aside and revisit it at a later date. As for these three adults, harboring a cursed fugitive—and for almost thirteen years, no less—is the very definition of colluding with the cursed clan.” A sea of approving murmurs comes from the Samjogo pews. “But my other council members are of the opinion that the crime here is not so black-and-white. We have therefore decided—albeit reluctantly on my part—to exercise a degree of mercy.”

He turns to my auntie and my parents. “We will allow you to choose a punishment you feel is commensurate to your crime. If you continue to claim innocence, we will report your act to the Godrealm, and the full curse will be enacted against you. The three of you will henceforth be stripped of your powers.”

Hattie and I look at each other, and my fear is mirrored as plain as day on my sister’s face.

“On the other hand, if you wish to retain your powers and continue being part of this sacred community, you must do two things. One, admit your crime publicly. And, two, excommunicate Riley from the gifted clans as all Horangi should be, including cutting off all future contact. We will give you seven days to make a decision. This is the final ruling of the council.”

Eomma faints on the spot, and Appa catches and holds her in his arms while Auntie Okja chants her back to consciousness. The congregation is on its feet, and Hattie is squeezing my hand so hard I can’t feel it anymore.

Today was supposed to be the best day of our lives.

Hattie was supposed to become an initiated witch, and I was supposed to become a healer alongside her. I was going to channel the power of the divine, and my sister and I were going to start our futures as healers together, side by side.

Instead, I learned that I am cursed, and that I come from a line of heretics and murderers. My birth clan killed my best friend’s mother, and my adoptive parents will have to give up their divine callings if they want to keep me in the community.

No matter what happens, I will never belong.

As this realization dawns on me, I understand there is only one thing to do. Before I can change my mind, I turn and run, past Hattie, past my parents, past Auntie Okja, past the elders, and past the congregants who are now more than ever questioning my place in this society.

With sharp grief puncturing my chest, I charge out of the room, stopping only for a second when Mr. Pyo grabs my arm with his bony hand.

I shake him off and turn away. But not before I hear him whisper in my ear, “Don’t do anything foolish, cursed child. We will be watching you.”