Page 28 of His Elder

"So was the doctrine on Black people and the priesthood. Until it wasn't."

"Don't." The word came out sharp. "Don't compare this."

"Why not? Maybe the Church is wrong about this too."

The blasphemy of it stole my breath. "The Church can't be wrong. If the Church is wrong about this, then everything is wrong. The entire plan of salvation falls apart."

"Or maybe," Vance said quietly, "the plan is bigger than we understand. Maybe God's love doesn't have the conditions we've put on it."

"That's not faith. That's wishful thinking."

"And what you're doing is faith? Telling people they're fundamentally incompatible with God's plan unless they deny who they are?"

"They're not denying who they are. They're overcoming man's natural tendencies. We all have to do that."

"Natural tendencies." Vance's laugh was bitter. "That's what you're calling it."

"It's scriptural language!"

"It's dehumanizing language."

I turned away from him, gripping the edge of my desk. The wood bit into my palms. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Attacking the doctrine. Attacking me."

"I'm not attacking you."

"You are! You're making me the villain for teaching what I've been sent here to teach."

"I'm trying to get you to think about what you're actually saying."

"I know what I'm saying!" The shout burst out of me. "I know exactly what I'm saying and it's killing me!"

The silence that followed was absolute.

I stood frozen, horror washing through me in cold waves. The words hung in the air between us, impossible to take back.

"Price," Vance said softly.

"Forget it." I grabbed my scriptures, my journal, anything within reach. "I'm going to study in the other room."

"Samuel."

The use of my first name stopped me. He never called me Samuel. Always Price, always the formal distance of companionship.

I didn't turn around. Couldn't look at him.

"What Maria asked," he said quietly. "About people who can't want what they're supposed to want. You were talking about yourself, weren't you?"

My throat closed completely.

"I need to study," I managed.

"Samuel—"

"Don't." My voice broke. "Please don't."