CHAPTER 33
At any minute, Simon expected Mal-Chin or Hannah or maybe both of them to burst out laughing. Marriage? When his execution was scheduled for tomorrow? When Lang was due to come back any minute and tear Hannah away from him forever? A dozen protests ran through his head, but all Simon said was, “But you aren’t a minister.”
Mal-Chin pointed to the glaring bald scar on his head he got the night the guards raided their secret meeting. He stretched out the collar of his prison uniform to reveal a puncture wound on his shoulder nearly two centimeters in diameter. “If these don’t qualify me as a minister, nothing will.”
Hannah held onto Simon’s arm, stroking his bicep with those gentle, gracious fingers. That touch ... How could he leave her behind? Now that he had held her, kissed
