Deacon Bennett directed the last two exorcists in the procession to set large black plastic canisters on the edge of the dais, just feet from where the boy was locked into place, his hands still at his back, his chest heaving with each labored breath.

I felt like I could throw up.

“It turns out the demon is actually…,” Sister Pamela said as the lead “exorcist” pulled the hood from the doomed boy’s head, “…the father of Melanie Kane’s unborn child.”

Oh no, no, no…Please, no.

The camera zoomed in on Adam Yung’s face, bruised and bloody. His left eye was swollen shut. He’d fought someone and lost. Had he fought for himself or for Mellie?

I’d stopped searching the crowd entirely. Sister Pamela was still talking, but I couldn’t process anything in that moment. All I could see was Adam’s puffy face. All I could hear was the word he wasn’t truly saying. The word I recognized on his lips, even though it carried no real sound.

Melanie.

He was calling for Melanie.

Deacon Bennett demanded that he confess to having a demon inside him, but Adam only murmured my sister’s name into the microphone shoved in front of his face. The exorcists threw holy water over him, and he screamed as if it burned. The crowd gasped and my heart stopped beating for just a second until I realized that didn’t mean anything.

Demons aren’t hurt by holy water. Finn had said so. Because demons aren’t “unholy.” They were just plain evil.

“He’s not possessed,” I whispered into Maddock’s ear, our gazes glued to the farce of an exorcism being broadcast all over the country, live from my hometown.

“I know.” His words were so soft I could hardly hear them.

“So why does holy water hurt him?” We were taking a risk in the middle of the crowd, but no one was looking at us. They were all staring at the screen, engrossed, listening to Deacon Bennett explain that Adam was no longer the Adam Yung many of us knew. Adam was dead, and a demon had control of his body, and that demon must be cleansed from Adam’s body and his soul so he could find eternal peace.

“It’s saltwater,” Maddock said. “Burns in every open wound. That’s why they beat him first.”

“This can’t be happening.” I shook my head. “This isn’t real.” I couldn’t stop thinking it. I couldn’t stop saying it, though any minute my whispered denials could get us caught.

On-screen, the lead exorcist signaled to two others, who each picked up one of the plastic canisters. Adam’s chest rose and fell rapidly, and my heart raced in sympathy with his. The exorcist in charge stood in front of the dais, facing the crowd, and though I could only see the top of his black hooded robe from my position halfway through the enormous crowd, my view of the screen was miserably unimpeded.

“Citizens of New Temperance,” the exorcist called in a commanding voice, “please understand that Adam Yung has been absolved of the crimes of fornication and unlicensed procreation; Church authorities believe it was actually the demon inside him who committed such egregious sins. Now, those of us who love him—who failed to protect him from this monstrous evil—we must not fail him again!” The exorcist’s silver embroidery glittered in the bright lights when he raised one fist. “We must not allow his soul to be tarnished by the same demon that has claimed and defiled his body.”