47

By dawn, Lucas’s fever was gone. His face had color. He smiled and laughed. Breakfast was oatmeal with brown sugar and hot tea. They ate, listening to the soft thud of rain, Hazel humming and rocking Lucas as he licked her fingers.

She touched the star around David’s neck. Brushed gold on a gold link chain, a Bar Mitzvah gift from his grandmother that he only wore on the river.

“It’s a Jewish star,” David said.

“Jews killed Jesus,” Hazel said.

David rose and stepped into the drizzle. He rubbed his eyes and cursed.

“Is he okay?” she asked Kate.

“Jesus was Jewish,” Kate said. “The Last Supper is a Jewish holiday.”

Hazel’s eyes closed. She was easily confused in the Kingdom of Doubt.

“It hurts Jewish people to hear that kind of talk. Millions of Jews were murdered by Nazis. Members of David’s family were murdered, you understand?”

Hazel had heard Justice speak about Nazis. She understood they were part of the Savior’s plan.

“My husband talks about that,” she said, stroking Lucas’s head.

Leaving camp challenged Justice Jenkins’s truths. Putting faith in man above the Lord’s design was a sin. Lucas’s fever had caused her to defy her husband. Truth told, defiance and doubt scared her more than Mr. Jenkins.

“Jesus hears lies same as truth and judges accordingly,” Hazel said. “What I told the girl up the creek, no matter what she done, Jesus already knows it. Jesus forgives.”

“Was that Ruby?”

“Ruby, yes, Ruby and Quinn.”

“Ruby is my girl,” Kate said.

“You here to claim them?” Hazel asked.

“That’s right.”

Hazel’s eyes closed again. “My husband probably got them now.”