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Hannah sat back and listened while Simon talked to the other prisoners in his cell. They huddled near the back corner, and even though they probably thought they were keeping their voices down, she could hear every word.
“We won’t just hand her over to him.”
“What else can we do?”
“There’s one assistant director and twelve of us. If we all work together ...”
Hannah stood. She had heard enough. “No.” She made her way to the huddle.
Simon drew her toward him with his arm around her waist. “We were just trying to ...”
“Stop it.” She reached up and swept away some of the hair that had clumped to the dried blood on his forehead. “No one else is getting hurt.”
“I know,” Simon crooned, but Hannah doubted he really understood at all. The whole time she spent in Yanji, she had been singled out because she was a girl. Several other girls started the Secret Seminary training with her, but within a few months, Hannah was the only one remaining. The Sterns reminded her at least once a day how special she was since she stuck with the program. Did Simon and Levi and the rest of the students get that kind of attention? No. Only Hannah. Why? Because she was a girl. Simon had followed her, put himself in danger for her, botched his entire mission just for her. Because she was a girl. At the safe house in Sanhe, she had lost count of how many times Mr. Kim or Kwan expressed shock that Moses had chosen her ... because she was a girl. And now, a dozen strangers were talking about throwing their lives away to protect her from a man with the full force of the National Security Agency behind him.
All because she was a girl.
“We want to help you.” Simon wiped the tear that streaked down her face.
He didn’t understand at all. He probably thought she was crying out of fear. He had no idea how ashamed she was right now to be a woman, to be the sort of creature who would inspire men to sacrifice their lives for no reason whatsoever. If she could strip off her sex and die with these men as an equal, she would lift her head proudly and stare her executioners right in the eye. But she was only a girl. A girl no man was going to risk his life for.
“I’ll handle the assistant director when he comes back,” Hannah stated, but she doubted Simon and the others even heard her.
***
“So what are we going to do?” the three-fingered youth asked. “He’ll be coming back for her any minute, you know.”
Simon felt Hannah’s muscles seize up next to him. He wished the men wouldn’t talk about the assistant director. He glanced at her blackened eye and felt his blood pressure rise at the mere thought of anyone who would want to hurt her. Lord, just show us what to do. Was God even listening? Why wasn’t he acting? If anyone deserved a chance to live out her calling, it was Hannah. I don’t care what you let them do to me, Lord, but please show us a way to free her.
He leaned his head down and breathed in the soft scent of her hair. It was a different smell than what he remembered from Yanji, when they were able to bathe regularly and wash with the Americans’ artificially-scented soaps and shampoos. But it was still her. And Simon would rather die than see her come to any harm.
He shut his eyes for a moment. Was there really no escape for her? He always imagined he might one day face a martyr’s death. He never pictured Hannah sharing that fate with him. He thought about the night they both left Yanji, the hours he spent following her, the way she clung to him in the woods, the feel of her heart fluttering against his chest. How much had changed since then. Even now with his injuries, he guessed he could pick her up with one arm for all the weight she had lost at Camp 22.
He didn’t realize his vision was blurry until she looked up at him with a serene smile. “Your friends don’t need to rescue me. I’m ready to go home. We’ll meet the Lord together.”
Simon swallowed. He wasn’t ready to give up yet. He held Hannah a little tighter. How long until the assistant director came and took her away forever? What tortures and humiliations would he dream up when he found the prisoners hadn’t carried out his plans? This was Simon’s last chance to wrap Hannah up in his arms, his last chance to tell her how adored she was. Did she even realize how much he loved her? How could he sit back and let the assistant director just steal her away from him?
Hannah tugged on his sleeve and led him away from the circle. Nobody said anything as they left. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.
Hannah lowered herself to the ground, pulling him softly down next to her. “We only have a little more time. We shouldn’t waste it.”
He shook his head. “There must be something we can do.”
“You know, I sometimes prayed for the Lord to allow such an event. For us to go home together.”
Simon’s throat felt like he had swallowed a cupful of glass. “You’re not going home yet.”
She placed her palm on his shoulder. His body was trembling. He wanted to say something more. She was wrong. She wouldn’t die. She couldn’t. But he had no voice, no words. He kissed the top of her head. She didn’t understand. He could face whatever the National Security Agency could dream up for him as long as she survived, as long as she stayed safe, as long as she could keep leading people to salvation, as long as she could keep healing others with her kind and compassionate touch.
She looked up at him. Didn’t she realize, didn’t she know that he only had one real fear — the fear of failing her again? He would die a hundred times if it would save her. He would gladly trade his life for her freedom. She could go back to Yanji, she could go on to South Korea or the United States. She could fulfill her destiny as a gracious Christian saint. Simon shook his head. It was a futile hope, just like his dreams of one day marrying her. He wouldn’t live past tomorrow.
In reality, she probably wouldn’t, either.
Her body felt as thin as paper pressed up against him. He wondered if they would be able to share this same kind of closeness in heaven or if this was their last embrace. If there was any chance they might escape and free themselves of the National Security Agency, he would risk anything to stay with her. But all hope had deserted him, and in its place was only a heavy, unshakeable resignation. He took her hand and gave it a small squeeze. “I wish there was something I could do.”
Her whole face shined. “I just want you to love me.”
How could his spirit survive this torture? How could his soul endure such agony? “You know I always have.” He swallowed, but that did nothing to relieve the lump in the back of his throat. “And I always will.”
***
Lang threw his clipboard on the table, relishing the discordant sound of metal clanking against metal. The Chief Officer of Productivity would have himself a demonstration to remember for decades to come. Lang had already ordered the extra rations for the prisoners. Even the politically corrupt would fill their bellies tomorrow. They would feast on the Eternal President’s birthday. Of course, Lang had to warn his guards to keep watch. Contented stomachs could lead to unrest. When the prisoners were kept just one crumb away from starvation, revolt was impossible. Well, it didn’t matter. His demonstration tomorrow would scare even the tiniest trace of disloyalty or rebellion out of these criminals. A Christian pig shot in front of everyone ...
But why stop at one execution? Lang checked his watch. Perhaps if he got to her in time, it could still be a double demonstration — two Christian traitors tried and killed together. He had a feeling that behind Officer Yeong’s sober, stoic exterior lay an appreciation for the dramatic. How long had he left her in there? There was no reason for haste. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt. If she died too soon, Lang could always find some others to kill off alongside 39846. And if she was still alive, well, he didn’t want to rush the prisoners. After all, the Day of the Sun was an occasion for generosity. Why not let the men enjoy their little diversion a while longer? Lang smiled and pictured the regret on the infirmary nurse’s face when she realized what a pitiful, fatal mistake she had made when she refused him. Let them have their fun just a quarter of an hour more. She’d die one way or the other. However it played out, Lang would get his revenge. And the Chief Officer would get his demonstration.
***
It was his last night with Hannah. He didn’t want to waste it sleeping. Her head rested on the crook of his elbow. She was so peaceful. So tender. He held her fragile body with both arms, unable to stop wondering what would happen when the assistant director returned. Simon leaned down and nuzzled her ear with his nose, his fear of losing her surpassed only by the intensity of his love. At least God gave him this one last chance to hold her before he died.
In another universe, they would be married by now. Maybe even have a baby. Hannah would make such a patient, gentle mother. But that was another world. Another place. Not the future God had ordained for either of them. How strange he had never been afraid to die until he held her in his arms.
“You know I’d marry you if I could,” he admitted. She didn’t say anything, and he figured she must be asleep. “The minute I found us a minister, I would make you my wife. I’d wake you up with a kiss every morning, and stay up at night just so I could watch you sleep. I would pro ...” His voice faltered. He sniffed. “I would protect you.” A single tear splashed down on her forearm. He brushed it away, his fingers soaking in the warmth of her skin.
“Marry me,” she whispered.
There was no reason to be ashamed. Not in front of her. Not when the assistant director had already signed their death warrants. Twenty-four hours from now, he wouldn’t even be alive to regret his rash confession. “I mean it.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’d marry you the moment we were free.”
“No.” Her voice was so soft, he had to lean farther down to hear her better. “Marry me now.”
He clutched her so tight his arms shook. “You know if there was any way ...”
“We only have a few minutes left.”
“But there isn’t any minister to ...”
“I’ll do it.”
Simon jumped at the voice. For the briefest moment, it had been so easy to imagine he and Hannah were totally alone. Mal-Chin stood above them, with an awkward, almost embarrassed smile on his wrinkled face.
“I’m sorry for interrupting, but I overheard. And I can imagine no higher honor than joining you two in marriage.”