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to fawn over her like servants.” Then, as though disgusted by their presence, he began marching toward the house while Igal and Reu shifted nervously at the courtyard gate.
    “Kemmuel!” Jehoshaphat’s shout split the silence, but rather than turn to face Abba, Kemmuel merely stopped, forcing Jehoshaphat to address his back. “Your disrespect will not go unpunished forever, my son. The sins you’ve committed against your sister will return to you one day.”
    Kemmuel whirled around. “And who will punish me, Abba? You? Do you have the strength to fight me? What can you do to me, you weak and foolish old man?”
    A collective gasp rose from the courtyard. Kemmuel’s brazen disrespect—especially shown in the presence of a guest—was unthinkable. Arielah glanced at the royal messenger; his cheeks and neck were crimson. Even Igal looked horrified.
    Arielah saw Abba’s inner battle through the windows of his soul. Something shifted in his eyes, and she knew Abba’s response would be different this time. He had given his firstborn countless opportunities to repent. Kemmuel, the boy, had squandered them all. Now Kemmuel, the man, would answer to Abba’s firm—but merciful—hand.
    “Kemmuel, you are no longer welcome in my home,” Jehoshaphat said. “You may sleep in my barns or my sheepfolds, but from this day forward, you will be to me as a hired hand until you repent of your rebellion. I love you, my son, but I cannot allow you to destroy yourself and this family.”
    Kemmuel looked dumbstruck.
    Jehoshaphat turned to his younger son and said softly, “Igal, you have always followed your brother’s evil ways. Choose now the way you will go.”
    Arielah could feel her heart pounding. Lord, please give Igal the strength to break free from Kemmuel’s influence.
    Igal’s face was ashen. Turning toward Jehosheba, Arielah witnessed the silent exchange between a loving ima and her lost son. Jehosheba stood beside Arielah but held out her hand to Igal. The second son smiled faintly, but when his eyes met his sister’s, his deadly glare was accusing. This is all your fault , he seemed to say.
    Igal looked to Kemmuel then, his older brother’s expression as hard as the bricks in Egypt.
    “Yes, Igal, choose which way you will go,” Kemmuel taunted.
    Igal squeezed his eyes shut. A decision of this magnitude seemed to cause the slow-witted brother physical pain.
    “Now! Choose now!” Kemmuel screamed, bullying his brother as usual. Like a confused lamb, Igal looked from Ima to Abba and then to his older brother who had always held an invisible strap around his neck. It was only a moment—just a brief hesitation. Then he walked into the house with Kemmuel to gather his things and move to the barns.
    Ima buried her face on Arielah’s shoulder. “How could our sons treat their abba like this? Don’t they realize they could be stoned for such rebellion?” Arielah moved Ima to the farthest corner of the courtyard. She didn’t want to be near the house when her brothers returned.
    Jehoshaphat extended his hand to his guest, guiding him to join the women. “Reu, I’m sorry you had to witness the shame that stains my family.”
    Reu’s sincerity was evident as he placed his hand on the judge’s shoulder. “My lord, I will not pretend to know the difficult relationships between abbas and sons since my own abba died when I was a young boy. But I have never seen a man love as you love your sons.”
    Arielah’s heart warmed at the kindness of this stranger. His words seemed like a balm to her abba’s wounded spirit.
    “The law says you could have Kemmuel and Igal stoned for the way they cursed you tonight. In fact, I don’t know any other Israelite who would allow repentance after being treated this way.” Then, nodding at Jehosheba and Arielah, he said, “I believe the house of Jehoshaphat is not a house stained with shame but one made of mercy.”
    A loud crack! sounded as Kemmuel tried to slam the cedar door