Hagar—the first wife of the last prophet—raised her voice above Leah’s cries. “Cut her.” There was utter silence. Even Leah’s screams were swallowed by it. A few of the brides clasped hands over their mouths. The youngest among them bolted to the door. Immanuelle heard her own voice rattle through the room. “What?” Hagar’s gaze shifted to Martha. “Cut her. Save the child. It’s the Father’s will.” “No,” said Immanuelle, shaking her head. “You can’t do that. She’ll die.”
