When my daughter is placed in my arms, my mouth falls open and I squeal. It feels good to have my husband, Richard, at my side and our daughter in my arms. I never regret my past, what I did. I embraced my time for revenge and lied with a confident heart. Yet God found…

Richard and I return to our work tending the water cows. The church takes a little of the money my father had. Father’s debtors are too afraid to acknowledge any relationship with him, so we are permitted to keep the rest. Everything else we had didn’t mean anything. I scan our small cottage: flimsy cots,…

Something sparked in you, Diana. You’re letting it change you. Take you over,” Mother said. I shake my head. My lips narrow, and the corners of my mouth turn downward. Dulcitius of Marburg sent his servants to notify the commune that we are to meet in the courtyard in the morning. We all will be…

It’s the strangest thing not to be able to speak with Richard. He was caught hanging around my cottage waiting for a chance to sneak in and see me. This is why Father and Mr. Kempe believe I have been with Richard to make my baby. I could hear Richard limping outside. Richard swore to them that…

The cot is cold against my skin. I cover myself with a thin blanket and wring my hands. Clasp them so hard that it hurts. I pray—no, beg— God to make my father leave us alone. I rub my upper arms for comfort and hug my shoulders. I stop fighting the memories. Memories of dark ghosts in my father’s form,…

I sleep for a long while. When I wake, Mother is standing over me with a large bowl of soup. “That smells great. Where’s mine?” Louis asks. He peers into the bowl. “That looks like meat! We haven’t had any in as long as I can remember.” “Sweetheart, this is a special soup just for your sister,” Mother…

Mother sits with me, my head on her lap and my legs curled under me as she strokes my hair. At dawn, my mother’s scream raised me from my bizarre revelations. I notice that a large puddle of blood developed under me and stained my pale legs. “My heart burns.” I cry. I can hardly hear my own…

I stare at the dirt floor with blurry eyes. I  can’t focus. Blood drips from my face. Is it my nose or my mouth? My stomach aches. Burning. Hurting. “Who’s been at you, Diana? I’m not going to ask again.” I try to answer Father, but sharp words catch jagged in my throat. I cough…

I turn and run away, forcing the thought of Father out of my head. I stop walking as a smell jolts me, making my nose curl. I hate the fields. They reek of human flesh. The priests have too many laws and punishments, and their favorite is death by fire. Men and women burned bloody and black at…