Page 24 of His Elder

"Why not? It's true." The bitterness leaked through despite my best efforts. "The church wants us celibate fortwo years, then immediately ready to perform our biological duty. Abstinence before marriage, then babies. Lots of babies. An eternal family. That's the deal. That's always been the deal."

I watched his profile. The rigid line of his jaw. The way his breathing had gone shallow and controlled.

"Moss and Brown are rehearsing," I said quietly. "Practicing being the kind of men the church needs them to be. Red-blooded, woman-chasing, future fathers of Zion. Their attractions are just temporarily inconvenient. Once the mission's over, those attractions become a virtue. A commandment, even."

Samuel's eyes stayed fixed straight ahead. "And if someone... can't? Can't want what they're supposed to want?"

The question hung between us, fragile and dangerous.

"Then they pray harder," I said. "Get married anyway. Have the babies anyway. Die a little more inside every day until they're so far gone they believe their own performance."

His hand trembled against the armrest.

"Or," I continued, voice barely above a whisper, "they accept they're damned and stop pretending."

"That's not—" His voice cracked. "There has to be another option."

"You find one, let me know."

Silence stretched. Around us, missionaries laughed and chatted, completely oblivious. Moss was demonstrating something with his hands that made Brown double over. The sisters compared notes, colour-coded and perfect.

"It's not fair," Samuel said finally, so quiet I almost missed it.

"No," I agreed. "It's really not."

"Elder Price! Elder Vance!"

We turned. Zone Leader Hutchins approached, flankedby his companion, Elder Webb. Both wore smiles that didn't reach their eyes.

"President Dalton wanted me to check in," Hutchins said. "See how the companionship is working out."

Translation:We've heard you're struggling, and we're here to fix you.

"It's going well," Samuel said smoothly. "We have several investigators progressing. The Moreno family is on track for baptism."

"That's great to hear." Hutchins's gaze slid to me. "And you, Elder Vance? Are you finding Barcelona more… suitable than Madrid?"

The subtext hung heavy.Are you behaving yourself this time?

"It's beautiful," I said flatly. "The architecture is incredible."

"Elder Vance is an artist," Samuel interjected. Not defensive, not exactly, at least. Just stating fact. "He has an eye for detail."

Hutchins's smile tightened. "That's wonderful. As long as it doesn't distract from the work."

"It doesn't," Samuel said.

I blinked at him. He didn't look at me, just kept his focus on Hutchins, shoulders square and certain. Defending me. Actually defending me to a Zone Leader.

"Good." Hutchins clapped Samuel on the shoulder. "Keep up the excellent work, Elder Price. Your father must be very proud."

And there it was. The reminder of who Samuel was, who he was supposed to be. The golden boy from the golden family, following the golden path.

Samuel's expression didn't change. "Thank you, Elder."

Hutchins and Webb moved on to their next target. Samuel exhaled slowly.

"You didn't have to do that," I said.