She thinks she knows the answer.
Who would lift a broken girl from her pit?
Who would lead a wild believer?
Who would love someone who had done the things she’d done?
Even his great kindness couldn’t erase who she was and where she’d been. Certain of this dark truth, she rubs at the fading mark on her hand and leaves the Outcasts. If the Leader wants her, let him speak clearly and not dismiss her by silently washing away his presence. She would hear it from him. Let him turn her away– not his silence, not his fading memory, but his words, his hand pointing toward the door to nowhere.
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