Page 314 of Redeemed

“May God’s will be done,” Beckham says.

He moves behind the pulpit and pulls out a knife wrapped in deep red fabric. I’ve only seen it once before, and it gave me nightmares for months after.

Jeremiah jumps out of his seat. “No!”

“Sit down,” our father snaps.

Jeremiah ignores him and moves into the aisle. “If Heaven should die for lying, then you should, too, Isaiah. You vowed to love my sister as Christ loves the Church. You vowed to give herendlesschances, to die for her, because that’s what Christ has done for us.”

“I also have the God-granted power to remove her from this life for her sins,” Isaiah grits out. “There’s no reason to give another chance to someone who’ll only throw it away. The Lord has spoken to me. She dies tonight.”

“Isaiah, no!” Ruth yells.

She tries to break free from Samuel’s grasp, but he grabs her and slams her into her seat. She hits the pew hard, and it’s loud enough that a few people toss concerned glances her way.

My stomach drops, and for a brief second, I forget about my own predicament. I can see the pain on Ruth’s face from across the sanctuary, and I want to tear Samuel limb from limb for it. But no one would let me near him. No one will let me take more than a step from where I am until I’m dead.

“You’re interfering with the work of the Holy Spirit,” Jeremiah snaps. “Her heart has hardened, but that doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way. Heaven hasn’t even been here for two days. You’re not giving God any time to work within her.”

“He spoke to both of us,” Beckham scolds. “Your emotions are clouding your judgment. This is his will.”

As Jeremiah continues arguing with Isaiah and Beckham, it hits me that my brother doesn’t mean a single thing he’s saying. He’s using all the right talking points, and his theology is flawless based on Beckham’s teachings, but it’s not in his heart anymore. He’s only saying it to point out Isaiah’s hypocrisy.

To keep me alive.

I love him for trying, but it won’t matter. When it comes down to long-held beliefs versus thirst for power, power will always win.

“Don’t do this,” Jeremiah begs.

He’s closer now, almost at arm’s length. I want to reach out to him, but I know I can’t. There are too many men in here who would happily raise a hand against me if I act out of line.

I’ve seen this before. I have to accept my fate silently. Otherwise, my death will only be more painful.

Isaiah takes the knife from Beckham and unwraps it. When he steps closer to me, my first instinct is to stumble back, but I steel myself under his hard gaze. His free hand comes up to grip the hair at the base of my neck. He yanks hard, forcing my head back until my throat is exposed.

“Heaven,” Esther cries, and it hits me that I’ll never get to hug my little sisters again. I’ll never be able to help them escape.

“Ven,” Jeremiah says, his voice close to breaking. “Heaven, look at me.”

I don’t.Can’t.He’s trying to spare me from having to watch my own death, but I don’t want him to see the life drain from my eyes. I don’t wantanyof my siblings to watch this.

Isaiah raises the knife.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Beckham asks, “Isaiah Titus, do you accept God’s plan for you to enact his just will on your wife?”

“You can’t do this,” Jeremiah shouts.

Dad stands. “Jeremiah, enough. It has to be done.”

“I do,” Isaiah says, and then he brings the knife down.

Colton

“Isaiah,stop!”

The desperate cry from inside Cornerstone’s compound sends chills through me. It’s not Haven’s voice, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

“Lucas,” I say tightly.

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