Page 8 of Wanted

Watching us closely, my mother snorts softly before jerking her attention to the window at her left.

I fight the urge to squirm, all the tension making me feel sick.

My father remains silent, his thumb stroking against my hand, until the car starts rolling forward. “Now that you’re ten and officially a big girl, it’s time for your final Judging. Do you understand what the Judging is?”

Sucking in my bottom lip, I try to remember if I’ve been told before. I know I had a Judging when I was a baby. But I don’t think anyone has taken the time to tell me what a Judging is.

What am I being judged for? And why do I have to do it again if I’ve already done it before?

My mother huffs with impatience, then says snidely, “The Prophet will look into your future and know if you’re dirty and tainted. You won’t be able to hide anything fromhim.”

“Catherine,” my father snaps in disapproval.

Continuing to stare out her window, my mother shrugs her slender shoulders. “What? It’s the truth. The Prophet sees all.”

Worry suddenly filling me, I peer up at my father. “What happens if I’m tainted?”

I’m not dirty. I wash myself every day. But I’m unsure what tainted means.

Is it like stupid?

Will the Prophet be able to tell that I’m dumb and worthless? Will I get in trouble?

Will I be punished?

Glaring at the back of my mother’s head, my father squeezes my hand. “You’re not, sweetheart. Just do what the other little girls do and you’ll be fine.”

My father has never lied to me. So I have no reason not to trust him.

But when my mother huffs quietly, my stomach clenches even harder with unease.

Does she know something he doesn’t? She seems to know me better than him…

Stuck between them, I can’t help but give into the urge to squirm and shift around. The tense silence making me more and more uncomfortable.

The car ride lasts far too long, stretching out an eternity, but also seems too short.

When we come to a stop and my father opens his door, I want to puke all over my white dress.

Seeing the look on my face as he helps me out, my father frowns. “It will be okay, honey. I promise. Once we’re done here, we’ll celebrate with some ice cream.”

I nod, but I can’t stop feeling like something bad is about to happen.

Is it what my mother has always been warning me about?

That one day everyone will see me for what I really am…

“Chin up,” he says more firmly. “You have nothing to be afraid of. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Doing as my father says, I lift my head and feel grateful to have him beside me as we approach the giant cathedral we attend every Sunday.

I’ve never said it out loud, because I know it would make Daddy sad, but the place has always given me the heebie-jeebies.

The building is huge and dark, with sharp spires pointing like knives up to the sky. The stone walls are old and blemished with splotchy green stains.

All the stained glass windows could be pretty…

If they didn’t show awful, scary things, like God’s only Son being crucified.

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