Page 156 of Weight of Guilt

“You’ll understand soon.”

That wasn’t an answer.

Christian knew because grownups did that sometimes. They said something that sounded like an answer when they didn’t really want to give one.

He started counting his steps.

One.

Two.

Three.

Maybe if he knew how far they walked, it would help when Dad came to find him.

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

Sixteen.

A door opened.

The ground beneath his feet changed from rough gravel to smooth floor.

The air smelled different in here. Old. Almost like the basement at church.

The man guided him farther inside.

Christian tried to remember how many turns they made.

Left. Then right. Maybe another left.

He wasn’t sure.

Another door opened, and the hand stopped him.

“You’re going to stay here for a while.”

Christian’s stomach hurt. “How long?”

“Until it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

The man didn’t answer.

Christian reached for the cloth over his head, but a hand caught his wrist.

“Not yet.”

He dropped his arm, but his eyes started burning. “I want my mom.”

“I know.”

“I want my sisters.”

“You’ll understand someday.”