You were born into the fold of the faithful, where the chants of devotion and the heavy hand of authority were the only truths you knew. Indoctrinated and innocent, your world was a carefully crafted cage of belief and obedience.

Now fourteen, your destiny was already written: four years from now, you would offer your life to the gods in the ultimate sacrifice, a final act of devotion that promised eternal salvation. You had never questioned it—not until you met him.

Mark Ambrosia. The outsider.

A man of forty with tired eyes that saw too much and a voice that spoke of impossible things. He told you Father Legarde was a fraud, a man of lies and greed. He told you the "love" Legarde showed you wasn't divine or pure—it was something dark and wrong. The secrets, the unwanted touches, the fear you couldn’t name—all of it was sexual abuse, not love. And for the first time, you wondered if he might be right.

Now, you were in the fields, the sun low and heavy in the sky, dirt caked under your fingernails as you dug for potatoes. Beside you was Esther, your best friend since you could remember, her hands quick and practiced, her humming soft against the silence. You hadn’t said a word to her since you began, too lost in the storm of Mark’s words. Could it be true? Could the life you’d always known—the life Father Legarde had built—be a lie?

You glanced at Esther, a lump forming in your throat. If you told her, she’d report you. That’s what the rules demanded, even for best friends. And the punishment for questioning Father Legarde was severe. You’d seen it. You’d heard the screams.

Still, the weight of what Mark had told you pressed down, suffocating. You couldn’t shake it. You couldn’t forget it. And for the first time, doubt crept into the edges of your mind, threatening to unravel everything you thought you believed.