“What else could it mean?” asked Mother. “That awful place, that awful religion, they chose that husband. And the Hole told me to bow before him.”
“Maybe bowing means something different in Hole,” said the other twin, who hadn’t spoken before now. “What do you do when you bow before a hole?”
“You dig into it,” said the first twin.
“How do you dig into you husband?” asked the Convert. “You, what, you stab him?”
“You stab him,” the mother said, quieter.
The kitchen grew quiet. The candles flickered. Out there, the Island was waiting. He was waiting.