Desired: The Untold Story of Samson and Delilah (Lost Loves of the Bible)
tunic without patches? Even the wineskins look better than we do, and they’ll get thrown out after one season!”
    A cold, hard lump burned in my throat, an agony I struggled to soothe by taking soft, steady breaths. I could not bear to add to my father’s shame with tears of my own.
    But Astra was already crying, her head bent toward her lap. She was too young to practice any kind of restraint. I wanted to reach out to her. She would think this was her fault. That was true, but I didn’t want her to suffer.
    My father had not released me. He pulled on my wrist, getting my attention.
    “Do you know who came to see me today?”
    I shook my head. Astra looked up in alarm.
    “Manoah, the father of Samson.”
    Astra jumped up. “I did it! It’s my fault. I will apologize to him if he will listen.”
    Father looked at her as if she was a fool.
    “Girls, go up to the roof,” my mother said. “Leave me alone with your father.”
    “No. It is done. She should know about our arrangement.”
    What had gone on between him and Manoah? What could they have arranged? They were Hebrews. Any pact was an admission of both our poverty and our ambition. We were Philistines, superior in technology, learning, and power. These poor Hebrews worshipped a god that had promised them a land he could not deliver. Whatever Father had promised to them, it was a better deal than they had ever gotten from their own god.
    Father didn’t even take a breath or try to prepare me. His eyes looked at me without seeing me, as if his soul had evaporated during the dinner.
    “Samson wants you.”
    “For what?”
    “A bride.”
    Astra fell down, crumpling to the floor in shock. Mother jumped up to tend to her.
    Father picked his teeth with the long nail of his little finger, as he looked at the far wall, his chin trembling.
    “Please tell me this is a joke.” I barely had enough breath to be heard.
    “What did you expect me to do?” He looked at me, his brows tightly knotted together, deep lines of anger springing up on his forehead.
    Mother helped Astra to sit upright, holding her, before screaming at Father again. “A Hebrew! You pledged my daughter to a Hebrew!”
    “Name me one Philistine who wants her.” Father’s voice was cold.
    Mother opened her mouth then closed it, her nostrils flaring. She slammed her hand on the table, palm flat, making the bowls jump and clatter. The noise made my heart jump, and I burst into tears. Father was a good man, but a poor one. He had only done what he had to do. I was going to become the bride of the man-beast of the Hebrews, the freak who made everyone stop and gasp in horror. The thought of the Hebrew man-beast reaching for me under the stars on his own roof, while his parents slept in the house below us, made me sick.
    “How much did you get for me?”
    Astra stopped crying, her eager expression showing me that she was hungrier than she even admitted. Even Mother leaned closer in, anxious to hear a good number.
    “Four pieces of silver.”
    Mother’s hand flew to her heart. I ground my teeth as the good number burned into my heart. My price was better than I could have imagined.
    Oh, Dagon.

MOTHER
    Samson and I passed the Sabbath together in peace. We remained in our beds later than we usually did, and when we rose, I made him a big breakfast of his favorite foods. We ate curds and honey and bread in our cool, quiet house. We could hear birds alight on the roof and sing as the sun rose.
    I didn’t want Manoah to return. It was a sin to think it, but I did more than allow the thought to pass. I prayed it. I prayed that time would stop, that God would stop His relentless push toward a new day and allow me this one day, this peace, forever.
    Samson dipped a piece of bread in oil and handed it to me. “You’re not eating enough. You’re too thin.”
    Only he had noticed.
    I accepted his gift and ate. The oil spread in my mouth, and strength flooded into my bones again. I swallowed and closed my

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