Free Escape from Eden by Elisa Nader

making sure you’re okay.”
    “I’m fine.” Before she shut the door, I saw a flash of pink in the trash can. Peony pink. The special shirt Sister had made Aliyah to attend Circle was stuffed in the garbage.
    “You’re not going to get any information,” Juanita said from her bunk. Her tone was flat, eyes focused just beyond my head at the wall, unable—or unwilling—to meet my eyes.
    Bridgette shot up, the sheet whipping back away from her. “She won’t talk about it,” she said. “We don’t talk about it.”
    She motioned to Dina, who was silently crawling from her bed, less sanctimonious than her bunk mate in the morning. Both Bridgette and Dina had attended their first Prayer Circle a few months ago, but had only been back twice since. Prayer Circle for many of the Flock was a two or three times a week event.
    Bridgette thrust her chin forward as she swung her feet over the edge of her top bunk. “Prayer Circle is a sacred rite in the Reverend’s church. We offer our silence as a sacrifice to the sanctity of the event.”
    I glared at Bridgette. Her tone, her attitude, along with how Aliyah was acting, gnawed at me. “Is it hot up there?” I asked Bridgette.
    “On my bunk?” she asked.
    “On your cross.”
    Bridgette gasped. “Mia! You are so nasty these days. You’re lucky I don’t report your attitude to Thaddeus.”
    I shot a worried look at the bathroom door. Maybe I wanted to face Thaddeus again and ask some real questions–about the cookies, about the little town just over the ridge, about the mysterious Prayer Circle.
    “Go ahead, Bridgette. Tell him whatever you want,” I said, and turned to my bunk.
    Bridgette slipped down off her bed, her feet hitting the floor with a thud. I heard the rustle of sheets being flipped aside. “You didn’t do him justice, you know,” she said.
    I turned back. She held out my sketchbook like an offering, open to the page where I’d drawn Gabriel. The breath slowly left my lungs.
    “You went through my things?” I breathed.
    “Your things?” Bridgette’s eyes sharpened on mine. “There is no yours or mine in Edenton.” She swung the book to face her and held it up to eye level. She cocked her head to the side. “Your drawing of the new boy isn’t as pretty as he is,” she said. “God blessed him physically, but the Lord sure didn’t give you the talent to translate his beauty to the page.” She began flipping through the sketchbook.
    “Give it back,” I said, moving toward her.
    Bridgette tsked. “Mia, you better not be seen with the new boy. You know you’ll get punished for seeking out his company. This drawing is pretty damning evidence that you’re coveting him.”
    “Give it to me, now!” I yelled.
    “Let’s see.” She twisted away, putting the corner of her bunk between us. “Oh, there’s writing in this, too. It’s like a little diary. Looks like you’re a little bit of a daddy’s girl.” She read in a sing-song voice. “‘Things Papa used to say: Doubt everything, find your own light … Knowledge is freedom … Faith is not wanting to know what’s true.’” She gasped, placing her hand theatrically over her heart. “Mia, these quotes are sacrilegious!”
    “They’re not.” The heaviness of everyone’s gaze was on me. I glanced around. “They’re just things I remember him saying when I was little,” I said to the girls.
    “They are sacrilegious!” Bridgette said to everyone, waving a hand around the room. “Faith is not hiding from the truth. Faith is confidence and trust in Our Maker. Doubt is the temptation of the devil.” She slammed the book closed and pointed it at me. “This whole book is awful! You shouldn’t even have it!”
    “It’s all I have left!” I yelled.
    Bridgette dropped her arm to her side, my sketchbook in her hand tapping against her leg. “Left of what?”
    “My life before Edenton,” I snapped.
    Aliyah, who had been standing in the bathroom doorway with her hand on the