If she had known what their father knew, what he had told his son when he lay in agony for two months, she might have understood. God is cruel. That was simply the way he functioned. Why else would Ezekiel be attacked by a demon and his sister raped by one? Why else would their father try and protect them only to have free-will bring them back and into harm? Fate, destiny, whatever it was; these things were cruel. In order to grow they had to suffer.
Her eyes went cloudy with tears but Ezekiel made no move to comfort her further. He had done so once, and further attention would only reinforce a habit. Yet he smiled and turned the meat, touching the crisped section of it with a single finger. Satisfied by this, the coyote looked back to his sister with bright eyes. “Hey, don’t worry too much about it. We’ll fatten you up and you can learn to be a better cook then me, okay? Here,” he said, grabbing the stick with the chunk of meat on it and passing it to her. “Hopefully it’s not too bad.” Another wink, boyish despite the scars on his face.
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