Hannah wasn’t always an uptight asshole. When she was younger, she cared for other people. As a child, she was close with her twin and maybe even would have considered him her best friend. But people changed. Children were shaped by the environments they were raised in. Hannah had no idea how to raise children, and didn’t plan on ever doing it. As a little girl, she learned that in order to feel loved, she had to do as she was told and please her parents, even if it meant throwing other people under the bus. Hannah sometimes missed the little girl she used to be. Things were different then. No one got to stay a child forever.

Hannah had met her boyfriend at work. He was a regular customer of hers, who visited the store often to speak to her. After coming in nearly every day for a month, he’d asked her out, and Hannah had hesitated to agree. Lucas wasn’t a religious man, and Hannah had struggled to get past this. He had told her once that being religious didn’t automatically make someone a good person, and that some of the most hateful people were the ones who went to church on weekends. She still wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to go on a date with him; her mother would have hated him, and maybe that was the motivation she needed. She’d moved away in order to start a new life, after all. Maybe this meant doing things she wouldn’t normally have done.

Lucas still lived with his parents. This was normal for a twenty year old, but Hannah felt strange about it. He attended college full-time and didn’t pay rent, which meant he was financially better off than Hannah. He showed his affection by buying her things that reminded him of her. As a girl who had never gotten anything for herself growing up, Hannah appreciated this.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit hard on her?”

Lucas sat across from her on his parents’ couch. She’d met the couple before, but still didn’t quite trust them. Despite this, she felt guilty being around Lucas without them home. Lucas was an only child. He didn’t understand the relationships Hannah had with her siblings, and sometimes it felt like he didn’t care to try. Hannah supposed she couldn’t expect much of a man - most were the same. Even her own brothers shared this trait. “I mean, she was just lonely, like the rest of you.”

Trying to be the perfect daughter was exhausting. Hannah had done her best, but the truth was that no matter how hard she tried, she would have never been good enough. This was hard to accept. But Hannah wasn’t a kid anymore, and she had to come to terms with it. Parents who loved their children conditionally didn’t really love their children at all. Hannah’s siblings would say she was a hypocrite, and this was probably true. It was hard to be otherwise.

There wasn’t much Hannah divulged about herself. She liked Lucas, but she’d learned to keep secrets, and she always felt suspicion deep inside of her. You never know who you can trust, after all. She’d spoken about her fight with Saphira, which had led to her sister moving out of the apartment. Perhaps Hannah should have felt guilty about this. She had never wanted to live with Saphira in the first place - but the girl had begged and pleaded to come along, until Hannah grew tired of her persistence.

“You don’t get it.”

She’d been invited to a party by some friends. She’d never been to a party, and it felt immoral, as there would be alcohol. Although Hannah had strongly refused at first, she’d eventually been persuaded by a friend who said she deserved to enjoy her freedom. “Even if you’re lonely, you have to be in control of yourself.” She hated explaining things to men. They were dense, and often refused to understand simple concepts. “I was lonely too. That doesn’t mean you can use sin as comfort.”

Lucas knew the things that were important to Hannah. He’d asked her for sex only once, and she’d asserted herself. Most girls probably would have slept with their boyfriend by now, but Hannah had morals, and she was unwilling to falter. Some admired her for this. Some called her a prude. Hannah had better things to do than worry about what others thought of her.

He sighed, sitting too close to her for comfort. “Everyone makes mistakes, Hannah. Haven’t you ever done something you regret?” It was foolish to try and reason with Hannah. She was stubborn and inflexible. Many people had tried to appeal to her humanity, and nobody ever succeeded.

It was one thing to have regrets. It was another to admit them to someone else. “No,” said Hannah, though she had. It was a sin to lie. It was a sin to abuse your children. “I don’t let my emotions get the best of me.”

As a young child, Hannah shared a room with her twin brother. Orion forbade his children from sharing a bedroom with siblings of the opposite sex, but she and Asher had been allowed until they started puberty. At one point, they spent almost all their time together, leaving no time for anyone else. Hannah remembered crying once, when Asher refused to play with her. It seemed like lifetimes ago now. She hadn’t spoken to him in months. It was disconcerting how fast two people could go from best friends to almost complete strangers.

“I have to go. I have a friend coming over. We’re going to get ready for a party together.”

It was uncomfortable to feel appreciated. Hannah couldn’t explain how she felt about Lucas’ attention: he was too nice, too understanding. This had been the problem with Hannah’s last boyfriend, too. Lucas respected Hannah’s body and opinions, and made her feel vulnerable. This was the worst thing about him.

He kissed her. It had taken far too long for her to allow this. “I have a bad feeling about that party, Han. I don’t think you should go.” He’d expressed this concern before, but she’d dismissed him. Lucas cared too much for her safety, and he knew the type of upbringing she’d had. “At least let me come with you.” Lucas loved her, and Hannah had never learned how to let herself be loved. She was messy and inconsistent, and he still insisted on spending time around her.

How could you ever love anyone if nobody ever taught you how?

“I’ll be fine.” Hannah smiled, picking up her shoes from the rug by the door. She wasn’t a girl who smiled a lot. Around Lucas, she forgot she was meant to be a bitch. “I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” Good girls didn’t go to parties, especially parties with alcohol. Hannah had been a good girl all her life. It was all she knew, and she feared she wouldn’t be good at being anything else.

It wouldn’t get dark until very late. Like most women her age, Hannah hated being out alone after dark. She always took a long time to make herself presentable. Her bare face wasn’t ugly, but makeup made her look more like a woman than a teenage girl. Alice was a girl she knew from work, who came over late at night to help Hannah get ready. She’d missed out on so much. She’d never been to public school, or gone out with friends, or snuck out at night. Hannah used to wonder why she’d been destined to the life she had - but it was no use wondering. God had a great plan for Hannah, and it was out of her hands.

“Have you ever been to a party?”

Alice was a few years older than Hannah: a sort of mentor. Hannah was supposed to believe that everyone older than her was smarter than her, too. Years ago, she fought with Mosiah about this. He said many kids were smarter than their own parents, because some people refuse to learn, and knowledge can be gathered at any age. Hannah disagreed with this. With age came intelligence, and those with more life experience had more knowledge than those with less life experience. That was why it was important to respect and listen to those who were older than you. Hannah wasn’t certain she believed this anymore.

“Obviously. I’m always at parties.”

Lying to your peers was different than lying to your parents. If Alice found out about Hannah’s dishonesty, she wouldn’t scream about how Hannah would go to hell.

It was a chilly night. When Hannah left with Alice, there was an unusual tight feeling in her chest. She didn’t often feel anxious. She remembered the bad feeling Lucas had mentioned having, but shook it off. He was worried she’d drink too much, or get into an accident, or whatever else a boyfriend might worry about. Hannah didn’t know. She had next to no experience with boyfriends at all.

The host of the party was a friend of Alice’s. Hannah hadn’t been introduced, and was beginning to think she shouldn’t have come at all. It was still early, but people were already drunk, which put Hannah on edge. She was old enough to drink legally, and became uncomfortably aware of this as she walked. It was dirty and loud; Hannah was used to this type of environment, so it felt like her childhood home. A group of men stood in the corner of the kitchen, each holding a can of beer, ogling at Hannah as she passed. Maybe she was overdressed. Her party dress was short and fitted, and drew a lot of attention from the men. Hannah had never been looked at that way before. She was an animal, being leered at by nearby hunters, feeling as though she could be attacked at any moment.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

After begging Hannah to come along, Alice had left her alone. She’d gone off to find her friends, or flirt with guys, or something a girl like Hannah wouldn’t do. “Hey!” shouted one of the boys, grinning at her. He stared at her less intensely than the others, but still put her on edge. “Welcome! Want a beer?” Alcohol was nothing but trouble. It made you lose control, and it made you into someone unrecognizable.

Hannah’s mother had once told her never to trust a man she didn’t know. This might have the most logical thing Lillian ever said. “No.” She shouldn’t have come tonight. She’d promised Lucas to try and be more open-minded, but it was hard to change the ways you’d been stuck in all your life. She’d been told to loosen up many times in her life. It had never bothered her.

“Maybe it’s a good idea for you to get out,” Alice said, “you could make some friends and do things a regular twenty year old girl does.”

She walked past the group of men, refusing to let them make her feel uncomfortable. Hannah could take care of herself, and nobody could make her feel discomfited unless she let them. Although she felt out of place among partygoers, it was important to stand her ground. She wasn’t at the farm anymore. She no longer had to be a submissive servant to men. This didn’t mean, though, that it was easy to be assertive. Her mother said that was how the real world worked: women were valued only for how easy they were to control, and men were valued for being the controllers. If Hannah had been born a man, she would be respected simply for being a man.

Through a large window, Hannah saw people outside smoking cigarettes. People ruined their lives so easily and so quickly, and it was kind of a pity to watch. Hannah had watched most of her older siblings leave home without the interest in keeping in contact with them. There were some she hadn’t spoken to since she was a child. People said you were meant to be close with your family, because they were the only family you got. But you couldn’t choose your family, and sometimes they were nothing like you. No one liked being around people they had nothing in common with, even if they were family. She remembered Asher telling her that she’d someday regret her lack of relationship with her siblings. She made an effort with the people she cared about.

Loud music was playing. Hannah hadn’t been exposed to a variety of music during her upbringing, and felt foolish not recognizing it. It was so loud that she could barely hear the voices of partygoers right next to her, and had to shout to be noticed. She supposed this wasn’t much different than it had been at home. No one paid attention to a woman when men were around. Feeling flustered, Hannah stepped outside. There was a feeling of eeriness in the air. It was late, but it shouldn’t have been so cold. She regretted not bringing a sweater or a change of clothes. She felt disturbed, like someone was watching her from afar. It was the sort of feeling she’d get in the dark as a little girl, when she was still stupid enough to believe monsters lived underneath her bed. Monsters didn’t live under your bed. They followed you on the streets, and sometimes, they lived in your house.

Hannah prided herself on her punctuality. She had work the next day. She was never late for work, even during the holidays. As a girl who never graduated high school or worked the same job for years, it was hard to feel accomplished. She was still young. She’d spent most of her life thus far living to please others. She was beginning to understand that children weren’t supposed to be clones of their parents. You could influence and expose them, but you couldn’t control exactly who they became. Obviously, Hannah didn’t know what it felt like to be a parent. She couldn’t understand how it would feel to do your best to raise a child to be a good person, and then discover that they really weren’t a good person at all.

In the distance, a tree branch cracked loudly. Hannah had wandered up the street a little ways, overwhelmed by the noise and crowd, and in need of fresh air. It wasn’t safe to be outside alone after dark, but Hannah wasn’t easily frightened, and she wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself. She carried a small purse with a whistle and a pocket knife, necessary if she ever found herself in trouble. A girl shouldn’t have to be so on edge all the time.

“Hi, Hannah.”

She had a cell phone. Lucas had said, no matter what time it was, he could come and pick her up.

Mind tricks were strange. Once in a while, when Hannah was alone, she thought she heard someone calling her. She’d unexpectedly hear the voice of one of her siblings when they weren’t around. It was a trick of the senses, and it happened to everyone. The air smelled of smoke; someone stood close to her, the night too dark to make out their identity. Though they’d greeted her by name, Hannah was uncertain. She didn’t trust strange men, standing far too close to her in a pitch dark night. He seemed to be alone, but this didn’t bring her any comfort. He had a familiar voice that Hannah couldn’t place.

“What are you doing out alone this time of night?”

Weeks ago, she’d told Lucas the story of her parents’ deaths, and what came of them. She’d told him everything she knew about Sebastian and Jude, and other things that were important to know. Hannah knew that several of her siblings had been stalked and targeted by Jude. She knew Alma had been killed by him. She hadn’t always believed this, but things changed. Although she knew there was a possibility Jude could track her as well, Hannah didn’t fear this. She was a spiritual woman, and she had faith in whatever plan her creator had for her life. You couldn’t fight death. There was no point in trying.

She stood up straight, refusing to be threatened. “Jude.”

The night of Adam’s abduction, Hannah spoke to Jacob on the phone. They didn’t speak on the phone often, but had been talking semi-regularly since Hannah left the farm. He’d called her to tell her about Adam’s disappearance, and of Zeb’s sighting of Jude. Hannah didn’t care for Zeb. Word travelled fast in the family. At times, Hannah hated this.

She was unsure how long Jude had been following her. He was a shadow in the night, but stood close enough that Hannah felt intimidated. She was hard to intimidate. She wasn’t a short girl, but most men were taller than her, and they were probably stronger too. With one hand inside her purse, she closed her fingers around the small pocket knife Mosiah had given her. She would never kill, even to save her own life. She’d heard it a hundred times before. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. “Don’t tell me. You’re here to kill me like you killed Alma, aren’t you?” There was still so much she hadn’t done. But Hannah had been good most of her life, and she didn’t fear eternal punishment.

She hadn’t seen Alice since arriving. Hannah had few friends, and she felt as though she were missing out.

Jude frowned, blowing cigarette smoke into her face. She’d never found him to be very considerate. “I expected you to think more highly of me than that, Hannah.” She didn’t know exactly how old he was. She didn’t know much about him at all, actually. He was at least a few years older than Sebastian, and this was all she was certain of. When Jude died, he would surely go to Hell, and Hannah would be praised for not letting sin tempt her. This was all that would matter, in the end.

“What’s your problem anyway, Jude?” It wasn’t worth attempting to reason. You couldn’t change the mind of a criminal. You couldn’t make a bad person good. “What happened to you? Sebastian asked for your help with one small thing, and you betrayed him.”

Obviously, Hannah didn’t support her neighbour’s choices. She didn’t condone violence. She especially didn’t condone murder, even if the victim was a serial killer, or an abuser. There was only one thing more important than peace, and that was loyalty.

When Jude was found in Mexico, he had non-fatal gunshot wounds in his arm and leg. He’d been taken to hospital, and then into custody, where he stayed for several days. But Jude was smart, and he refused to speak to law enforcement without an attorney. The same attorney was somehow able to get most of Jude’s charges dropped by using the argument that sure, he’d been accused of murder, but there was insufficient evidence to prove he’d actually done it. It was all excuses, as far as Hannah was concerned. She used to trust cops. Now she was beginning to think Mosiah was right when he said authority figures only ever looked out for themselves.

They weren’t alone, at least. Although she was too far away to see, Hannah heard girls talking loudly and sloppily about their boyfriends. If anything should happen to her, a crowd of drunken friends wouldn’t be much help.

Jude scoffed. “Sebastian made a lot of mistakes. The first was trusting me.”

He probably thought he was powerful and invincible. He probably thought no other man on earth was as clever as him. Lots of people thought this way. You feel insecure, or you loathe yourself in some way, and the only solution is to develop an air of superiority. Most of the time, it’s easier to pretend to be perfect than to come to terms with your flaws. He snatched her arm unexpectedly, making her small handbag fall to the ground. She’d likely never know what had turned Jude into such an evil man. Perhaps he wanted to prove himself as the ringleader instead of settling for the sidekick.

She fell forward, hitting the ground. Things always happened so quickly. After throwing the cigarette he’d been smoking into the dirt, Jude sat on top of her so that her arms were pinned down, making it hard to move. Hannah knew people who would find this exciting. She remembered what Lucas had said before she left.

I have a bad feeling about that party, Han. I don’t think you should go.

Jude’s hands were calloused and strong, locking around Hannah’s throat tightly and quickly. Nighttime wasn’t usually so noisy. Congregation members weren’t usually so aggressive.

Hannah’s head pounded. The laughter and conversation of partygoers became louder as night enveloped her.