“You didn’t do this to yourself, did you?”

Claire’s entire demeanor changes the moment her father leaves the room. It catches you off guard and you’re suddenly speechless. She looks up at you with large, sympathetic eyes. You can see that she genuinely cares about your well-being but it’s impossible for her to completely show it. She looks away and pulls a fresh washcloth from a nearby drawer and begins running it under warm water. Her question rolls around in your head but you don’t answer and instead slightly shake your head side-to-side.

“Yeah, you could never do this. Nobody could.”

She applies the warm towel to your forearm and gently begins padding away the blood. You’re relieved to know that you can still feel the change in temperature and instinctively begin flexing your fingers.

“If it helps at all,” Claire sighs. “I don’t want this marriage to happen either.”

Your heart misses a beat and your whole body freezes up. You stare back at her, mouth slightly agape, unable to believe what you’ve just heard.

“Well, that’s good. We can stop it then, right?”

“No,” she replies. Her voice is soft and weak. “It’s not up to us.”

You can feel your body tingling.

“Yes,” you start and reach under her chin. “It is up to us. We can just say no. Together.”

You reach out and carefully lift her head so that your eyes meet. There are tears pooled along her lower eyelids.

“No,” she repeats herself. “This is what the Lord has asked us to do.”

Your fingers fall from her face as you hear the same phrase that you’ve heard since the moment you met the entire Coates family.

“Claire, no. It’s not the Lord. It’s not anything like that. It’s just your—”

You can feel your anger rising quickly. You lean back and attempt to keep your voice as quiet as possible.

“It’s your father. He’s making us do this.”

Claire stares back at you and remains silent. You pause and stare back, searching her eyes for any sign of hope.

“Claire, he’s not God.”

You deliver your statement with as much sincerity and finality as you can. There’s a long, pensive pause where neither of you say anything nor even dare to take a deep breath. Then, just before you begin to speak, preparing to ask Claire if she believes what you said, she suddenly stands up and begins looking through the drawers beneath where she found the washcloth.

“Do you love my sister?”

Continue here.

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