“But you’re not,” he says, voice full of spite. “This is as much to protect our family as to satisfy your husband-to-be. I could drag you in kicking and screaming if I wanted to, but I’m leaving it up to you walk in. Giving you the chance to do this with some dignity.”

Dignity. There will be no dignity in what’s to come.

He opens the car door. “Decide if you will submit.” He steps out.

I remain in the car watching as he walks to the entrance and shakes hands with the two older men. I notice one of the men has a heavy ring on his finger. They’re otherwise indistinguishable from each other.

They want me to submit to a virginity test? I’d heard rumors of these. I hadn’t given them much credence though. It’s archaic. Will they check the bedsheets too?

But if there’s one thing I believe it’s that Abel will lock me in my room and not allow me to see our father. He won’t care even if Dad were to die. And he could somehow punish Evangeline to punish me. These are the only things that matter. The only things I need to know.

I have no choice. I never did. I will submit to this just as I will submit to a wedding.

6

Ivy

The men stop their conversation once I’m within earshot. The older ones shift their gazes to me first. My brother, who has his back to me, turns slowly to face me. The smile on his face is a victorious one.

“Ivy.”

I look anxiously from him to the others. Their gazes appear almost lecherous. And they’re old enough to be my grandfather. Will they really stand by and allow something like this to happen? Will they bear witness?

“Gentlemen, this is my sister Ivy.”

I’m surprised he doesn’t distinguish himself from me. We’re half siblings and not full blood. Something he usually takes comfort in, if not pride.

The men nod. One of them sweeps his gaze over me, and I wish I’d eaten something so I could throw it up on his thousand-dollar shoes.

“We’re behind schedule,” the one without the ring says.

My brother nods and, without introducing the men to me—not that I care—we walk inside, the men in front of me, Abel behind, me in the middle. A prisoner marched to her execution.

I barely notice the surroundings as I’m led through the large living space. An older woman sits reading a magazine. She only spares me a momentary glance. Across from her is a younger woman. She looks familiar, but half her face is hidden behind her magazine so I can only see her eyes. She tracks me as we cross the room, and a housekeeper enters, carrying coffee on a silver tray.

Do these women know what’s about to happen?