“The word says that ‘whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment.’”

Sam shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a crazy man. You know that?”

“I will ask you to leave this tent one more time, and then I will not ask you again.” His hand never wavered from the gun.

“I’m not leaving.” Sam took another step closer. “Go ahead. I’m not afraid of you.”

The shot shattered the air. Margo and I let out bloodcurdling screams. Everything rushed forward. I flung myself on top of Bekah. Margo piled on me. Sam held his stomach, where he’d been shot, stumbling to his knees before falling to the ground, his eyes wide with disbelief and shock.

The family flooded the tent until no one else could fit inside. Abner stood rooted to his spot, staring down at Sam. “The word says that ‘whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment.’”

Bekah’s body was still underneath mine. “Please, Abner, we have to do something for Bekah.” I couldn’t let her die underneath me. I just couldn’t. Abner didn’t budge. “Abner!” I had never shouted at him before. He snapped to attention.

“Get him out of here,” he barked, pointing to Sam’s crumpled body.

For a second, nobody moved, but then Keith rushed to Sam’s aid, and Sol quickly joined him. They threw an arm around each shoulder and lifted him off the ground. Sam yelped like a wounded animal. Blood stained the front of his shirt, leaving a trail behind him as they dragged him out the door. The others moved aside so they could get through and rushed to help once they were outside the tent.

“Let the Lord’s will be done,” Abner said to them, motioning everyone away with one swipe of his hand. They all scattered quickly, leaving us alone. He sealed the tent behind them.

Everything stilled. Margo and I peeled ourselves off Bekah and stood together holding hands, like little girls on the playground on their first day of school. We waited for Abner to speak as he strutted around the tent breathing heavily. His left hand still gripped the gun. Margo’s fear chased mine. He walked to the head of the bed, stepping over Sam’s blood like it was nothing. He leaned over the bed and felt Bekah’s neck for a pulse, then her wrist.

“She’s alive, but barely,” he pronounced. He tucked the gun in the waistband of his pants, and I released the breath I was holding. “Let’s see about this baby.” He moved to the end of the bed and knelt between her legs, peering at her in the same way my obstetrician had done to me so many years ago. “Margo, bring me my knife.”

A tremble passed through Margo’s body. “I can’t.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Kate.”