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She jams her fists on her hips. “Mary said you left the reclamation duty. Is this true?”
“Just for a minute,” I answer back. “I was on my way back there right now.”
“You realize that wasting time is a sin, right? You are spending something that you owe the group. Your labor is something you owe the Family.”
I take a deep breath. I could have this argument with her now. I could just ask her what the nature of her debt is. I could ask her why she never paid it, and why it seems to be falling to me to take care of it.
But I'm not going to do that.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” she hisses, narrowing her eyes. This is the most energy I have seen out of her in weeks. She seems dangerous, like a possum disturbed in the middle of the day, hissing with its mouth open.
“I'm just on my way back,” I mumble, looking away.
“You're grounded,” she announces.
“What?” I gasp. “You can't… I'm not grounded. I have work to do!”
She stabs her finger toward me viciously. “You're grounded,” she repeats. “Other people are already doing your work for you. I can't believe you would humiliate me like this! You're not going to leave this house until tomorrow morning, and that's final!”
“No, it's not final!” I dare to yell back.
Her eyes widen. Her nostrils flare and I see her set her jaw. She's angrier than I've ever seen her. I've never talked back to her before.
“Oh yes it is! We’re not leaving this house until tomorrow, and don't you dare even try!”
She slams the door to my bedroom so hard it shakes the house, and I hear her stomp across the room and then drop herself into the chair by the door. She's guarding me like a prisoner.
And I'm supposed to meet Father Daddy and Brother Owen in just an hour or two. What am I going to do?
Silas
“Who does she think she is?”
“Just calm down,” Owen scowls. He waves his hand in the air as though I'm being ridiculous. “She said she'd be here. She will be here.”
I find myself pacing back and forth. What am I doing? Waiting? Out of sorts and driven to anger? By someone who was considered a child just a week ago?
“This is ridiculous.”
Owen doesn't say anything. He probably feels irritated too, but is afraid to admit it. He set up the meeting, but maybe he did it wrong.
I stop pacing for a moment and listen. I don't hear anybody on the path outside. I don't even hear voices far away. It's not dusk anymore. It's night.
“She's not coming.”
“She said she would,” he says again, but I can hear the irritation creeping into his voice.
Did she do this to embarrass me? There is always that chance. Sometimes when you train up a woman, they get ahead of themselves very quickly. The feel the power they have over us, and it goes right to their heads. Then they feel like they need to show us who's boss, step out of line and dare us to do something about it.
Angel doesn't realize what I’ve done for her. She doesn’t realize the thin ice she's treading on. In the Family, and with me especially.
“We didn't have to do this, you know. We didn't have to treat her special,” I mutter.
“That was your decision,” Owen reminds me sourly.
“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs and looks away, shaking his head. “I had a suggestion for you, before the ceremony,” he answers reasonably, with an I told you so sort of tone in his voice. “You're the one who chose this direction. Because she reminds you of her mother, right? Like she reminds you so much, maybe you should think twice about getting too involved. Her mother is no innocent. You should have listened more closely to my suggestion.”
