Astonished, the men lifted their faces into the flickering light and held their breath.

“I was weak!” Yoseph blurted in confession. “I allowed a heathen to influence my wife and touch my newborn son.” He pointed in the direction of the well. “The old woman tricked my mind. It was she who lowered my eyes from God and brought His wrath upon me!”

The men mumbled in assent.

“That woman is a demon,” Yoseph spat, his rage spinning around itself, tensing into a tight coil. “She practices the ways of those who think they are gods. Who deny the Lord. And hold themselves above His laws.” His head fell in remorse. He pressed a palm along his eyes. “But it is I who am to blame. For our priest gave me warning.”

The men gasped.

“Yes. He did. Many months ago,” he confessed. “But I did not heed his words. Much to my sorrow.”

Yoseph fell silent. No one dared move. After a moment, he spoke again.

“Today she broke my family. Tomorrow she will break yours,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I tell you, my brothers, she must not be allowed to work her evil on our village again.”

The men nodded like a single beast, their eyes shining with tears.

When it seemed as if Yoseph was done speaking, Ishmael raised his voice. “But what is to be done?” he asked.

Anna’s grandfather looked up from the flames. He then rose to his feet. His face cleared of expression. “Kill her,” he said.

Anna’s bladder went cold as ice.

The men turned to one another, nodding. Their whispers grew louder and more animated. The solution of death, of ridding their community of the unwanted evil, spread among them quick as a plague until they were on their feet shouting. Anna cringed as they charged out the door. They moved en masse, dragging a single shadow behind them as they grunted and picked up stones. Other villagers, alerted by the shouting, leaked from their houses to join the mob, oblivious of its cause. Anna ran behind, keeping herself hidden.

She watched Daniel’s mother, Rebecca, and three other women Anna often saw at the well rush out and push through the crowd. Finding Yoseph, they clung to his tunic and begged him to stop. To come to his senses.

“She is the only one who possesses the healing knowledge! What will we do when our children are sick?” they pleaded.

But they could see Yoseph was not in his right mind. That he stared without seeing. Grief and rage having taken his sight. Unable to keep their grip on his tunic, the women fell away, the crowd trampling around them.