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I’m surrounded by too many obedient hands.

But how can I meekly submit to such a violation? I’ve lived the past ten years of my life covered from head to toe. My normal attire is an itchy brown robe made from the same fabric as my blanket.

Even my hair is to always be covered, lest the sight of it tempt a man. Modesty has literally been beaten into me on many occasions.

And now they want to strip me naked in front of the very men I might tempt? How does this make any sense?

Sister Agatha makes another grab for me, but I scramble to the side, narrowly dodging her lunging hands.

“Would you like some aid, Sister?” Father Dominic offers with a chuckle. “I’d be more than happy to lend a helping hand.”

“No!” she barks at him, her face flushed red. “Alena, this is your last warning. Obey or face the consequences.”

Tears filling my eyes, I shake my head in refusal and plead, “Not here. Please. Can we not do this somewhere private?”

Sister Agatha seems to hesitate for a moment, and my chest swells with the hope that my plea for mercy isn’t falling on deaf ears for once. She even gives me a look full of sympathy, as if she understands my reluctance.

Only to narrow her eyes in steely determination a second later. “Jeffrey, help me with this stupid girl!”

The floorboards beneath my feet vibrate as Jeffrey stomps over from the doorway.

Twisting my head side to side, I search for a way to escape, but I’m completely surrounded. Even if I somehow make it out the door, there’s an entire church to cross before I’ll reach the outside.

And then what? I go running down the streets in my bloodied nightgown?

The people outside these walls will think I’m insane.

Jeffrey makes a grab for me, throwing his entire body at me.

I try to dodge him, but in doing so I end up throwing myself against Sister Agatha. Her thin, vicious hands immediately latch onto me with no mercy.

Nails sinking into the skin of my arms as she spreads them apart, she commands Jeffrey to, “Remove the nightgown.”

A flash of fury appears on Jeffrey’s face as he begins to bend down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the command angers him for some reason.

But it doesn’t stop him from complying.

I try to jerk myself out of Sister Agatha’s grip, but when I feel my knees exposed to the cold kiss of the air, I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on enduring the humiliation.

A heavy silence falls over the room as the cold air kisses more and more of my body. From my knees, to my thighs, to my hips. The sound of my own frantic panting echoes inside my head as Jeffrey peels the nightgown up to my armpits.

“Do you see anything?” Sister Agatha asks.

“No,” Jeffrey answers through gritted teeth.

Sister Agatha suddenly releases her grip on my arms, but I’m so frozen by the shame and humiliation, I can’t move if I wanted to. “Help me get it over her head.”

A couple of heartbeats pass, then the last of my dignity is ripped over my head. The buttons snagging on my hair. A warm hand touches my bare shoulder and gives it a little squeeze, but there are no more words spoken.

There is no need for words now that I’m not fighting them.

Treating me like a doll, I’m turned side to side, spun around, then each of my arms is lifted. Someone even wipes at the blood on my thighs.

Sister Agatha declares, “I can see no mark.”

“You haven’t checked everywhere,” Father Dominic counters.

Sister Agatha sniffs with indignation. “I assure you, I’ve checked every visible inch of her.”