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both!”
    Ananias can do nothing. To tell the truth would accomplish naught but the betrayal of Heli and Dinah and Addai.
    “Leave my house and never return. You, Salome! You will take nothing away with you. You will never speak to Mariamne again.”
    Salome does not cry and she does not plead. She does not bring up the name of her father, Coron of Memphis, to remind my father of his promise to care for her. She will walk away though she is only thirteen. Where will she go? And who will marry her now?
    I can feel Father turn in his mind; the black and bitter rage centered on Ananias and Salome now looks for me. He wonders how much I have been involved in this abomination to his name and to his house. He wonders if I too have been defiled. He wonders what he must do about it.
    I spin on my heels and I rush toward our quarters, not stopping to see what Tata does with herself. I tear off the boy’s clothes I am wearing, kick them under a clothes chest. I work at my hair, pulling it down as fast as I can. I struggle into my night things, and I manage all this only moments before Father strides into Salome’s and my room. I have never seen him like this, never felt him like this. Inside he is like a cave of winds; he does not want to banish me, I am all there is left of my mother. He is terrified that he must punish me as severely as his Law commands him to. A man cannot have the females in his house behave as he believes Salome has behaved. Father lives for the good regard of others. If he thinks I have also behaved in this way, or if I have been of help to Ananias and to Salome, then he has no choice, he must shun me.
    I stand silent before him, my head down, my mouth dry, my skin crawling with dread. I could not speak now if it meant my life. I have never been more afraid.
    Father has decided I am guilty. Over the years, there is nothing that Salome has done in our house that I have not done as well. I can hear him thinking—rapid, desperate thoughts. Salome is thirteen and expected to know what is moral and what is not. But I am yet under the age of twelve and therefore cannot be legally held to such a standard, and in this he finds a loophole. And a solution: he will pretend he does not suspect me. He will send me away. But not too far and not for too long. Though it shall be far and long enough.
    “Mariamne,” he says, and I know how much it costs him to control the shaking of his voice. “You will never see Salome again. In the morning you are to travel to Bethany. Tata will accompany you.” I almost collapse; I was sure he would have Tata beaten for this. It is her responsibility to watch over Salome and me. “You will live quietly in my brother-in-law’s house. You will be a sister to his children.” He takes note of the books scattered over table and couch and floor. “There shall be no books!” He ignores my stricken look. “This comes from indulging you with books! There will be no more indulgences from an overly fond father! You will be gone by the time I awake. In time, I will send for you. And for Tata.”
    I find my voice. It is a very small voice. “How long, Father?”
    Father does not look at me. “You will not be a child when you set foot in this house again. Nor will you be without a husband.”
    With that, he turns his back on me and walks away.
    Not until he is gone do I feel Tata grip my shoulder and shake me hard. “Mariamne! Child! What shall we do?”
    For the first time I realize how helpless she is. I am only a child, yet a woman asks me what we shall do. Not because she is not strong, not because she cannot think for herself, but because she is a slave and has no right to choose the events in her life. In the midst of all else, I am struck rigid by this discovery; I have never once thought of it. My poor fierce Tata, to be born both a female and a slave. Until now, I have thought nothing save what shall I do? Now I think: what shall we do?
    Father’s brother-in-law is the husband of