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“This, Grace and Thomas, is your family. They will shine brighter than the stars whenever you lose your way.”

No, they won’t.

It’s Ford who shines brighter than the stars. It’s Ford who is guiding me right now, just as I was about to lose my way.

“I’d like to say a few words before the ceremony begins,” I tell the pastor.

Irritation flickers in his eyes. He frowns at Tommy, a look I’ve seen men in our community give other men here a thousand times: Silence your wife.

Corinthians—A woman should learn in quietness and full submission.

Timothy—Women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak.

“This isn’t the time or place, Grace,” says Tommy, an anxious whine in his voice. He’s trying, once again, to take the reins in our marriage. I’ve got some news for him.

“One month ago,” I say, turning toward the crowd, “Elder Felton, my father, told Tommy to rape me so that I’d be forced to marry him. He said sometimes a woman’s hand must be forced.”

There are gasps from the crowd. The pastor places a hand on my shoulder, as if to physically drag me away. Ford, enraged, is pushing to his feet, but I give him the smallest shake of my head. Wait.

“That’s not all,” I say, dropping Tommy’s hand and shrugging off the pastor. “A year and a half ago, my father was sent to become headmaster at Penhallow, near Destin. You were told it was a great honor, and we were told that as well. The truth is that he was sent away because he assaulted an employee, to whom Bright Covenant then paid off and forced to sign an NDA.”

Mrs. Humboldt stands. “It's all true!” she calls.

Her testimony isn't much help, given her reputation.

“How could you, Grace?” Tommy rasps as chaos breaks out below us. “We had a deal.”

“You were going to rape me, Tommy. You're lucky I'm not pressing charges.”

Men are standing and shouting and pushing past their wives to get to the aisle. I knew that it would go like this. I knew that I’d be the villain, not my father, perhaps because the rest of these men don’t want their secrets exposed too.

Just as one of the men approaches the stage, Ford jumps from his seat and tackles him. “Let her finish,” he says, climbing to his feet.

He has no idea what I’m going to say, and he might think I’m going to talk about Leila, but unlike the rest of the men here...he believes in me. He believes in my right to say things he’d prefer I keep to myself.

I turn toward my mother. Last chance, Mom.

When she rises, the relief makes my knees weak. My father reaches for her arm and she bats him away.

“It’s true!” my mother calls. There’s panic in her voice, but conviction also. The commotion around us stops, the shouts, the shoving, it all just…freezes. “Everything she’s saying is true. I have proof of the deal the church cut with the teacher.”

My sisters are wide-eyed, their mouths open as they stare at my mother. My father tries to yank her back down to the church pew and she steps away from him, into the aisle, and Miriam’s husband jumps between them, leveling my father with a look that is full of hatred. As if he’s known something all along. “And my hand was forced, just as Tommy tried to force Grace’s. I was underage when it happened. Elder Felton persuaded me it was my fault, and that I was ruined. That’s why I married him a month into my mission.”

The men who were moving forward before look at each other, then look at their families. Everyone could easily dismiss my words as the rantings of a kid who’s feeling boxed in. But my mother is someone they’ve known all their lives, a quiet woman, respected by her peers.

For her to say this means something.

The women are murmuring, are climbing to their feet. Jessa Mae’s mother steps into the aisle and faces her husband. “If you move forward, you will need to climb over me to do it,” she warns.

“Get out of my way, woman,” he says, exasperated, nodding toward my dad. “I’m just making sure he doesn’t run.”

“My husband should be in jail,” my mother concludes. “And then banished from the community.” She looks toward me. Is that enough? her eyes ask.

I nod. She’s lived up to her end of the deal, so I’ll live up to mine.

She has until Faith turns eighteen before I tell everyone that Mary Joyce wasn't crazy and she wasn't bad. That all her tears in the months before she ran away made absolute sense and that my father should be in jail for a very long time.

Ford jumps on the stage and shoves Tommy away from me. “I'll deal with you in a minute, asshole,” he says as he turns to face me for the first time in two months.