“Are they taking Dad to prison?”

The question pierced the room.

Brother Morales lowered himself into the chair opposite the boy. He did not rush to answer.

“We don’t know exactly where they’ve taken him,” he said. “But Jehovah knows.”

Nathan swallowed and nodded as though receiving an assignment too heavy for his age.

Sasha lowered her face into one hand. It was not dramatic. It was simply the look of someone trying to remain upright under the weight of several emotions at once—fear, grief, uncertainty, and the determined refusal to stop trusting Jehovah.