Page 54 of His Elder

I looked up sharply.

President Dalton returned to his desk and sat down, folding his hands. "Elder Vance came from a troubled situation in Madrid. Multiple companions. Reports of disobedience and lack of commitment. And now this." He paused. "I need you to tell me honestly—did Elder Vance initiate these encounters?"

The question hit me like a fist.

"Did he—" President Dalton's voice was still gentle, but there was steel underneath now. "—did he pressure you? Coerce you in any way? Take advantage of your vulnerability?"

And there it was. The narrative. The way out.

All I had to do was say yes.

16

ELIAS

Isat in the hallway and waited.

The mission office hummed with quiet activity—phones ringing in distant rooms, the murmur of voices behind closed doors, the whir of the air conditioning. Normal sounds. The machinery of God's work grinding forward while my entire world collapsed.

Samuel had been in there for forty-five minutes.

I counted the tiles on the floor. Eighteen across, twenty-three down. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.

I didn't know what Samuel was telling President Dalton in there. Whether he was confessing everything or trying to minimize it. Whether he was taking responsibility or accepting the out I knew they'd offer him.

Because they would offer him one. I'd been in enough worthiness interviews to know how this worked. The authority figure always offered an escape route to the "goodkid." The one from the right family. The one who'd never caused problems before.

And Samuel was the definition of a good kid. Stake president's son. Returned missionary on track for BYU and a temple marriage. One stumble didn't erase eighteen months of faithful service.

Unless that stumble was with someone like me.

The door opened.

Samuel stumbled out. His face was blotchy and wet, his eyes red and swollen. He looked destroyed. Gutted. Like someone had reached inside him and scooped out everything that made him Samuel and left only this hollow, weeping shell.

He didn't look at me as he collapsed into the chair. Just stared straight ahead, his chest heaving with silent sobs.

My heart cracked open.

What had they done to him in there? What had they said to make him look so broken?

Or worse—what had he said to himself?

"Elder Vance." President Dalton stood in the doorway. His expression was carefully neutral, but I caught something underneath. Not quite satisfaction. More like... confirmation. Like Samuel had just told him exactly what he'd expected to hear.

"Please come in."

I stood. My legs felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. I walked past Samuel, wanted desperately to reach for him, to touch his hand, to tell him it would be okay.

But I kept walking.

President Dalton closed the door behind me. The office felt smaller now, the walls pressing in. I sat in one of the chairs across from his desk, and he settled into his own chair with a heavy sigh.

"Elder Vance," he said quietly. "I've just finished speaking with Elder Price."

I said nothing.

"He's been very forthcoming about what's transpired between you two." President Dalton folded his hands on the desk. "He's admitted to serious violations of the Law of Chastity. Multiple sexual encounters. He's taken full responsibility for his actions."