“He didn’t see me,” Gabi mumbled. “He was going into D Wing.”
“Oh, that was probably just an orderly getting supplies. They’re going to renovate it to expand Pediatrics now that the Witnesses are bringing back more orphans, but they haven’t started tithing for that project yet. We’ve still got to upgrade the plumbing in the whole building first.”
“It was my dad,” Gabi said. “I’m sure of it. Him and Messenger Nystrom.” How badly she wanted Nurse Mehta to catch on to the urgent plea in her voice—that something very wrong was happening here. Something that needed to be stopped.
“Well, that’s exciting,” the nurse murmured distractedly as she adjusted the nametag on her uniform so the pin wouldn’t poke her when she pulled it on. “They’re probably making plans for the renovation. Goodness knows we need the space.” These last words were muffled as she pulled the tunic over her head, then tugged it down over her shoulders and hips. “Do you want to wait for him here? I can call down and let him know.”
There was no point in staying. Her father was on D Wing, and there could only be one reason. He knew about the gruesome operations, and he wasn’t stopping them. Gabi considered telling Nurse Mehta for a split second but discarded the idea when she recalled the fear that had flashed across the young woman’s face when she admitted to private worship. If Gabi’s father and Messenger Nystrom knew what Yancy and Gearhart were up to, then the horrors of D Wing were authorized at the highest level. Anyone who attempted to interfere with the council could be excommunicated. In the old days before the Gathering In, excommunication would have meant exile from spiritual community—a hardship, to be sure, but nothing like the death sentence it was now. Even if Gabi could find someone who was willing to risk excommunication to help her, she could never live with the guilt of knowing that by doing so she had condemned them to death.
“I’ll just go home,” Gabi said, though home and the last bit of comfort she’d associated with it had evaporated when she saw Sam disappear into D Wing. There was no longer any need to confront him about whether or not she was adopted. The moment she realized Sam knew about the doctors’ experiments, she had become an orphan just the same.
THE PITIFUL carrots were still on the cutting board, looking even more like wrinkled fingers. The remnants of Mathew’s dinner—crumbs of bread, a smear of margarine, and the yellowed ruffles of withered parsley that had been his weak attempt at a serving of vegetables, sat in the sink. The note Gabi had left her brother explaining that she’d gone to see their father and asking him to finish making the soup was transparent where he’d picked it up with greasy fingers. Christian rock music vibrated the closed door of Mathew’s room, though no one was in the house to challenge his privacy. When he answered her knock, Mathew was panting and sweaty.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. He’d withdrawn from her the moment Messenger Nystrom showed up at their door with the news of Gram’s death, and still hadn’t come back. He hadn’t even finished making the soup. Didn’t he know how much she needed him?
“What are you doing?” he shot back, taking in her many layers. “Why did you go to see Dad?”
“Can you turn that down?” Gabi shouted. As he moved to lower the volume, she saw a towel spread on the floor with his free weights lined up beside it. “You’re working out after tutorial? Aren’t you exhausted?” She walked over to one of the weights and tried to lift it, but only managed to hoist one beveled end off the carpet before dropping it back onto the floor with a thunk.
“Yeah, so? I’m testing for the Witness teams at the end of this semester, and I want to be ready. I’ve spent too much time slacking off as it is. Here, you’re doing it wrong.” Mathew picked the weight up off the rug, straightened, and braced his elbow against his body. “You’ve got to use your knees when you’re lifting something heavy from the ground, or you’ll hurt your back. Keep your elbow in tight and your wrist locked when you curl so you don’t strain it. Here, you try. Maybe use two hands.” Mathew never made fun of Gabi for being weak, even when they were kids. Instead he played up how perceptive she was and encouraged her to try new things. At least that much hadn’t changed.
He placed the weight in Gabi’s hands. The load pulled her off center, and she had to lean back to keep from toppling over. “Pull your shoulders back, bend your knees, and tuck your butt under. Good. Elbows in. Right, now just lift. Don’t swing it, that’s cheating.”
This is ridiculous, Gabi thought. Everything is falling apart, and I’m toning my biceps? But the moment of closeness with Mathew was too comforting to pass up. Maybe his blind devotion to Unitas meant he couldn’t help her figure out what to do. Maybe he wasn’t even her real brother. But her father’s betrayal meant Mathew was all she had left. Gabi gripped the weight, her wrists buckling as she tried to lift it.
“Don’t use your wrists, Gab, use your arms.” She tucked her wrists and raised the weight toward her chin with a grunt. Her neck strained, and the iron clanked against her collarbone as she got to the top of the curl, but the burn in her arms felt
