"And how much worse do you think it will be when we're alone?" I asked.

"Much, much worse," she said, holding my gaze. "And neither of us are fools. We know what it really means when the Righteous talk about our lot in life."

"Death," I breathed, nodding to show I understood.

"So marry him or don't," she told me. "No matter what, I will be proud of you."

My eyes jumped over to the folded paper now laying on her bed. The page that had been a drawing of my mother's fantasy world.

"On that page," I said, tipping my head towards it, "is what hope looks like, Callah. If you can, will you put it in the library?"

"I swear," she breathed.

So I let go of her hands and pushed to my feet, feeling the weight of my decision pressing on me. "Good, because I have something I have to do."

TwelveAyla

Imarched to the door, yanked it open, and strode right into the hall. Thankfully, Callah didn't follow. I wasn't sure I could go through with this if she had, and I had to do this. I needed to do it now.

Mr. Morgan had left minutes ago. Long enough he could be halfway to his wing. Thinking a quick prayer that I would still catch him, I stretched my legs as far as I could. He was angry, so maybe he'd gone to the dining hall instead?

When I reached the end of the girl's wing, I turned as if headed for the dining hall - and paused. Just up ahead, Mr. Morgan was talking to Ms. Lawton emphatically. Our matron was nodding as if trying to show she understood, but he was clearly on a tirade.

I could still do this - or I could back out. My pulse was racing too fast. My breath was coming in massive lungfuls. No matter what I did from this moment, my future would change forever. There was no going back.

So I decided to go forward.

"Mr. Morgan!" I yelled as I marched toward him. "Go to Hell."

He froze, his body jerking straighter as his mouth stopped moving. Behind me, doors cracked open as the girls on our hall looked out at the commotion. Ms. Lawton lifted a hand to cover her mouth in shock, but my words had been so loud no one could've misheard them.

Slowly, as if dumbfounded, Peter Morgan turned to face me. "What did you say?"

My feet stalled. This was it. I had to make this good. The problem was that after two decades of being beaten into submission, letting out the thoughts in my head was easier said than done. I wanted to drop my eyes and scurry back to my room. I longed to make all of this go away, especially the attention from the younger girls now whispering behind me.

I couldn't.

So I lifted my chin. "I'd rather be thrown out with the Dragons than sit down, shut up, and let you rut on me for your pleasure. God made man in His image? Maybe I was made to take after the Devil."

"You foolish little girl," he snarled, storming back. "This is your mother's influence. This is why we should not spare the rod. Well, let me -" He lifted his hand, but before he could swing, I pushed it away.

"I will hit back," I warned.

"She doesn't mean it," Ms. Lawton insisted, rushing towards us. "Mr. Morgan, she's just shocked at the announcement. The girl is overwhelmed and too young to - "

"I will not marry a man who doesn't care about me as anything but an incubator!" I said, keeping my voice loud enough to carry.

"Ayla!" Ms. Lawton snapped.

"This is why you should not spoil the children!" Mr. Morgan growled at her, pushing the older woman aside. "Miss Ross..."

"I will hit back," I warned again.

The man scoffed right in my face and lifted his hand.

The sound of skin cracking was loud as he slapped me hard across the face. My ears rang. My face burned, yet I ignored it. Pain was fleeting. It was common. Pushing it aside was something all girls learned early and I was no different.

Before Mr. Morgan's hand was back at his side, I stepped into the old man and lifted my knee as hard as I could, right into his groin. Bone slammed into flesh as his genitals were crushed against his body. I used every ounce of strength I had, hoping it would be enough.

Peter Morgan howled like a wounded animal.

"Refuse me or toss me out," I warned, "because I am not going to get any nicer! I tried to do it your way."

"She's possessed!" Peter yelled, looking at the faces around us. "This girl's gone mad. She needs to be quarantined!"

I was panting, my heart beating so hard in my chest. I hoped this would work. I prayed it would be the right choice. There was no way I could live the rest of my life with this man or any of my other options. I wasn't willing to have my spirit and body broken just to make his life easier.

Didn't I deserve something more than this? Right now, I didn't care if they locked me up or cast me out, so long as it meant I didn't have to give myself to a brutal husband. Any other option had to be better!

All around us voices rose, women fanned themselves, and someone grabbed me. The hall was no longer filled with only girls. Men had appeared, most likely drawn to our yelling. Wives were watching. Not a lot, but enough to make sure this was witnessed and couldn't be ignored.

I smiled, allowing them to haul me into the dining hall, making no effort to struggle. At the edges of my vision, I saw children running to call adults and inform the Elders. Any other day, I would've been mortified, but not today. For once in my life, I wanted everyone to see this. I wanted them all to witness the evil controlling me - and just to make everything stop.

It didn't even matter how. I couldn't take this life anymore, and I'd done absolutely nothing wrong!

"Where in the Bible does it say I can't refuse my husband?" I asked loudly. "Where does it say I'm inferior to a man? Where does it say my desires are inconsequential? I just want to be a real person!"

"Sit down," Mr. Cassidy said sternly, proving he was here as well.

I shook my head. "I'd rather take this standing, thank you."

He glared but gave me that much. "You will marry Peter Morgan, or you can marry Reynold Saunders. You can also choose -"

"No." I crossed my arms. "The vows ask if I will. I'll say no."

Murmurs began to grow louder. No one seemed to have thought of that. Women never refused. When our time came to marry a man, we were supposed to just do it. This was our purpose as women. We didn't ask questions; we simply did what we were told and then produced plenty of Righteous babies. I knew that, but I couldn't force myself to simply accept it.

"You'll be turned out of your room. Where will you stay if not with your husband?" Mr. Cassidy asked.

I looked at him blankly. "There are plenty of empty rooms. Why do I need a husband to contribute to the community? Have I not made myself useful in the infirmary already? Have I not cooked meals for the dining hall?"

"I'm not marrying this beast," Peter said softly. "I'm sorry, Daniel, but let someone else deal with this shrew. I have enough children."

Reynold Saunders stepped forward. "I'm not afraid of her tongue. My hearing's going anyway."

A few people laughed, but my heart was hanging. "I will still say no," I insisted.

"Then just don't ask her." Reynold chuckled. "You really think you're the first girl to try this? The first to think acting up when she's due to marry will get her sent to quarantine? Please, child. My last wife was just as obstinate."