Chapter 2

Liam' s tone softened, a calculated shift. "Look, I know you' re scared. Momma prepared some of her special sweet tea. It' ll calm your nerves."

He handed me a tall, sweating glass. The familiar scent of mint and sugar filled the air. My throat was dry from arguing, so I took a long drink. It tasted a little off, more bitter than usual, but I chalked it up to my own anxiety.

I tried to argue again, to make him see reason. "Liam, please. Just listen to me."

But my words started to slur. A heavy numbness spread from my limbs, a thick fog rolling into my mind. My chopsticks, which I' d been nervously clicking together, fell from my limp fingers and clattered onto the floor.

He didn' t even flinch. He just watched me.

"What... what did you do?" I managed to whisper, my tongue thick and useless.

"Just a little something to help you relax," he said, his voice now eerily calm. "You were getting worked up. It' s better this way. No more fighting."

The room began to spin. My body was completely unresponsive, a prison of flesh and bone. I could only watch as he picked me up from the chair. His arms, which had always felt like a safe harbor, now felt like chains.

"Where...?"

"To the prayer cabin," he said, carrying me out into the damp night air. "It' s all prepared. Pastor Michael is overseeing it. You' ll be safe, I promise."

He laid me down on a cot inside a small, rustic cabin deep in the woods. The air was thick with the smell of pine and burning candles. Folk art symbols were painted on the walls, symbols I recognized from the community' s oldest texts. This wasn' t a house of God; it was a place of sacrifice.

My consciousness was fading, tethered by a single, fraying thread. Just before it snapped, the cabin door opened again. My parents walked in, their faces grim and determined. Behind them, leaning on my father' s arm, was Clara.

She put on a masterful show, her voice trembling with false concern.

"Oh, we shouldn' t force her. Look at her. It' s not right."

It was exactly the right thing to say. Liam' s jaw tightened, his resolve hardening. "It is right," he said, his voice low and firm. "It' s what has to be done."

Clara gave me a fleeting, triumphant smirk as my vision finally went black.