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If you tell him I spoke to you, he will—”

“I will not tell him. How long have you been down here?”

“I do not know.”

It couldn’t have been long. Daniel had been in the secret passage just the day before, and he’d not heard anyone crying out. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

He glanced around the room. There was no way to get food to her even if he could.

“Yes. And thirsty. I’m so thirsty.”

“No one has come to feed you?”

“No. They have left me here to die.”

“I will—” Daniel stopped as footsteps echoed from above. Someone was in the secret hallway. “Someone is coming. I must go. I shall return.”

“I’m scared.” The voice was hushed.

“I shall return,” Daniel whispered again. “Stay silent.”

Daniel searched the money room for a place to hide. The steps grew closer. Daniel dove behind a huge shelf full of stacked hundreds just as the clack of steps hit the stairs. Too late, he realized he’d left the light on. He ducked low, afraid he might be seen.

“Why is the light on in here?” his father mumbled. “Damn Elders.”

Daniel held his breath as his father stepped toward the door that held Abigail captive. Daniel scooted up to get a look at his father between the boxes on the shelf. His father pulled out a ring of keys, fiddled with them for a moment, and then placed a key into the lock on the door. He opened the door slowly and went into the room.

“Abigail Pence,” he bellowed, making Daniel shrink further back. “God has spoken. You have committed an unpardonable sin. For your transgressions, you have been sentenced to death.”

The sound of flesh hitting flesh made Daniel jump up from his hiding place at the same time Abigail screamed out in pain. The box in front of him fell forward and hundred-dollar bills spread out in stacks all over the floor.

Frantic, Daniel reached for the box, but it was too late. His father stood in the doorway, wiping the blood from his hand. “Daniel?”

“Father. I was . . .”

“How do you know about this room?” His father closed the door and locked it without taking his eyes off of his son.

Abigail whimpered on the other side of the door.

“Are you going to kill her?” he whispered.

“Get up those stairs!” his father bellowed.

Daniel jumped from behind the shelf, knocking more stacks of bills all over the floor. His foot hit a stack, and he slid to the floor, hitting his head on the hard cement.

The High Prophet towered over him. The look in his eyes instilled pure fear into Daniel. “Get up!”

Daniel stood, scurried up the stairs, and into the secret hallway. He didn’t dare turn around. He didn’t need to. The heavy footsteps of his father’s boots followed him all the way down the hallway.

Daniel opened the secret door and stepped back into the house. His father followed and closed the door behind them. He grabbed Daniel by his ear and dragged him into his office. He didn’t let go until he dropped Daniel into the seat across from his desk. The same seat he’d seen many others sit in before him. The hired hitman who refused to kill for his father. The brother of the boy who died tragically. And so many others. Daniel trembled. What would his father do to him?

He sat trembling as the man walked around his desk and sat in his chair. His father lowered his head for several moments while Daniel watched. It was the first time he’d ever seen his father bow his head. Was he really praying? Daniel did not think so.

His father raised his head and calmly folded his hands on the desk in front of him. Between gritted teeth, he spoke. “What were you doing down there?”

Daniel could not tell his father that he’d been spying on him for weeks. “I . . . was walking down the hall and I tripped,” he said quickly. “I leaned against the wall, and an entrance opened. I didn’t know where it led, so I went inside. That’s when I heard the girl. I followed the sound of her voice to . . . that room. The one with all the money in it.”

“And today was your first time down there?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Why did you hide from me?”

“I . . . I don’t know. I was scared.”

His father stood up. “Daniel! Tell me the truth! Why did you hide from God?”

God? “I didn’t mean . . .” The look in his father’s eyes could only be described as a wild rage. “I am sorry, Father.”

“Sorry?” He slammed a fist on the desk. “Sorry?”

Before Daniel knew it, his father was around the desk and staring down his throat. “You will never . . .” The High Prophet raised his hand and released it on Daniel’s face, knocking him out of his chair. Daniel grabbed for his bloody cheek and bent his head in a cower.

“You dare to defy your God in such a manner?”

Daniel dropped his face to the floor and raised his hands above his head to ward off another blow. Blood dripped onto the plush carpet, but he didn’t care. His father had gone crazy. On top of the evil things Daniel had witnessed him do, he’d gone and hit that girl. Wasn’t it bad enough that he’d had her imprisoned to die? Anger arose in him from the pit of his stomach.

He raised his head. “You. Are. Not. God.”

With those words, something unusual happened. The evil in his father’s eyes quieted. The wicked smirk on his face turned into something that resembled a kind smile. “You are right, son. I am sorry.”

His father placed a hand out to help him up. Daniel took it. Not because he forgave his father, or even that he thought he’d changed, but because he needed to save Abigail. And he couldn’t do it if he were locked up himself.

“Have a seat, my son. Let us talk.” His father pushed a box of tissue to

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