She had napped almost the whole day away after her meeting with Mr. Tong. She wasn’t sure she could sleep now even if she wanted to. She studied Simon’s darkened face. “How much rest have you had since we left the Sterns’?”

  “An hour or two. Not nearly as much as you.” He grinned. Hannah stretched her legs and checked her map. They were about a kilometer or so from her next delivery site. The house was near the center of town, so they would have to wait several more hours until it was dark. There were worse ways to pass the time than sitting next to Simon, watching the massive clouds outlined in pink from the setting sun.

  He rolled his neck from side to side. “I’m not sure I can sleep right now, either.”

  She felt her cheeks warm up. She brushed off some imaginary dirt from her pants. “Were you planning to come with me all along?”

  He drummed his fingers against his knees. “Not in so many words.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “I just knew I couldn’t leave you alone,” he explained. “But I never consciously decided to follow you. At first, I thought I’d just wait around and make sure you crossed the river all right. But when you gave away your shoes and all your food, I knew I couldn’t let you go by yourself. I thought you might need me.” He stared down at his chest and mumbled into his shirt collar, “Just like I need you.”

  The words were so quiet Hannah wondered if she heard them right. Or maybe she wasn’t meant to hear anything at all. He looked up at her. “I don’t want to do this alone.” He took her hand in his. “I want to stay together. Help each other out.” She didn’t know what to say. He peered into her eyes. “Well?”

  “Yes.” Hannah didn’t realize her lips were trembling until she tried to smile. “Yes. That’s what I want, too.”

  CHAPTER 5

  With trembling hands, Mr. Tong rinsed his teacups and placed them on the counter. He could not remember the last time he had been blessed with two visitors in one day. He thought about the young girl who brought him the New Testaments, his memories morphing seamlessly into prayer. “Such a young one. Pretty voice.” Mr. Tong had lived alone ever since the Peninsula War. His wife and son had fled south ahead of him, but he did not make it out in time. He could not remember when he started speaking out loud. Sometimes he grew too careless; even conversations with the air could incriminate him if the wrong neighbor happened to overhear.

  After drying the dishes, he walked over to the framed photograph of the Dear Leader. Years of loneliness taught him that even a portrait was better company than an empty house. Behind the picture frame hid a loose brick. Mr. Tong groped with his fingers and reached into the small opening. First, he pulled out one of the new audio devices. It was not safe to listen to now, but he fingered the buttons of the small machine, drinking in the ecstasy that coursed through his arm at the simple touch. He reached farther back and took out one of the New Testaments. He closed his eyes, a vestigial gesture from his seeing days, and brought the small book up to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he relished the scent of the thin paper, overwhelmed by an awe too deep to express in human language. He had never been blessed with much musical skill, but his silent praises floated heavenward to the throne room of God Almighty.

  Mr. Tong swayed, the result of his rapture as much as his palsy. He would never be able to read again, not until his Savior called him up to heaven and gave him a new body, but he counted himself as one of the most blessed men in the world, for in his hands was the living and active Word of God.

  ***

  His right arm is under my head and his left hand embraces me. The verse made Hannah blush. The Song of Solomon certainly wasn’t one of the books the Secret Seminary members discussed together, but the Sterns encouraged the students to study Scripture independently. Hannah never made it through the entire Bible like Simon, but she stumbled across Song of Solomon one day and read all eight chapters in a single sitting. Afterwards, she was riddled with guilt for peering into such a romantic account of longing and passion, but she was too embarrassed to talk about it with Mrs. Stern. She certainly never mentioned it to Simon.

  After that first instance, she decided she probably shouldn’t look at the Song of Solomon again unless she ever got married, which was an unlikely event, given her calling. Still, that verse was all she could think about while she watched Simon sleep. Her whole body heated up with each rise and fall of his chest. She resisted the urge to sweep some of his dark hair off his brow. He looked so tender, his head resting on Hannah’s backpack, his feet curled up behind him like a small child’s. She could picture how snug she would fit if she were to curl up in front of him, the curve of his body perfectly matching hers.

  She bit her lip and looked away. Should she have confessed her clandestine reading to Mrs. Stern? Maybe then the words wouldn’t have such power over her. If the Son has set you free, you shall be free indeed. God would need to deliver Hannah from her unruly emotions. Perhaps it would have been better if Simon hadn’t come with her after all. But she couldn’t keep her eyes away from his peaceful slumber and realized she would do almost anything to keep him here beside her.

  ***

  “You are not safe yet. Wait another few days.” Mr. Tong had been arguing with himself for the past half hour. Since he no longer had an audio Scripture recording of his own, he was eager to hear the words of his Savior once more. He shook his head from side to side as he shuffled across the room. “You had two visitors today,” he whispered. “You will be under suspicion. Wait it out, no? You will have your chance soon enough.”

  He groaned as he lowered himself onto his sleeping mat, remembering again to pray for the young girl who visited him earlier. “Heaven knows I cannot make the kind of journeys she does anymore.” As usual, the mental image of his young bride smiled down on him as he worked to get comfortable in his bed. She would be an octogenarian by now if she were still alive, but he pictured her as she was when he last saw her, a young mother with twinkling eyes. “You know I miss you more every single day, no?”

  He pulled his blanket up to his chin. The threadbare material did nothing to ward off the cold, but it served as a faint reminder of the way his beloved wife had curled up against him while they slept side by side so many years ago.

  ***

  Hannah was thankful the darkness hid her flushed cheeks when Simon finally woke up.

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Two hours. Maybe three.” She turned away, embarrassed to hear how groggy his voice sounded. If he married one day, is that what his wife would hear every morning?

  He looked up. “Cloudy.”

  She nodded. She had noticed, too. It would make it that much easier for them to stay hidden. Even though Simon was with her, she was more nervous about this delivery than she had been about Mr. Tong’s. The address was in the middle of town, and they would have to walk past several houses before coming to the right one. “I don’t know how long we have until morning,” she observed. “We better get going.”

  “We?”

  She bit her lip. She had assumed he would come with her. “You’re right. I guess it’s safer if I go alone.” She opened up her backpack and took out two audio units.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting ready.”

  He placed his hand over hers. “I thought we agreed that this stuff is too dangerous for you.”

  At first, she was too surprised to protest. What was he saying? That he expected to take over all the work now they were together?

  He fingered the string around her neck that held the crumpled piece of paper she had tried so hard to protect. “Here. You better give me your contact list, too.”

  She snatched it back. “No.” She hadn’t meant to sound that forceful. “I mean, this is my assignment. I ... I want to have a part in it.”

  Simon gently opened her fist. He took the contact list and stuffed it into his coat pocket, letting his fingers linger on hers. “You do have a part in it. We’re working together, remember?” He opened the backpack a little wider and took out a few more audio players and New Testaments. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” she asked in a faint whisper.

  He stood up, his body so close to hers he could have reached out and wrapped both arms around her if he chose to. “I don’t want to worry about you. I couldn’t bear it if something happened.” A dozen arguments flashed through her mind. She hadn’t risked her life to cross the border just to become someone’s pack mule. She kept her mouth shut.

  He brushed her cheek with his finger. “Promise me you’ll stay safe.”

  She hoped he didn’t notice her body tense. “I will.” She wished he would hold her in his arms once more, like he had near the stream.

  He zipped up his coat. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  ***

  “Get up, old man,” the gruff voice demanded.

  Mr. Tong did not open his eyes but counted three pairs of hands on him, dragging, yanking, tugging him out of bed.

  “You are welcome here, strangers.” He hoped his assailants knew his hands trembled with age, not with fear. “I will make you a cup of tea, no?”

  “Shut up, dog.”

  Mr. Tong noted the crispness of their uniforms. National Security Agency. Decades of clandestine work for the underground church had finally caught up with him. He nodded his head, thankful this last pilgrimage of his was not taking place in the merciless chill of winter. His hole-ridden blanket fell forgotten to the floor.

  “May you use my home as a sanctuary for others,” he whispered before a guard elbowed him in the ribs. He did not cry out when they forced him out the door. He stumbled in the dark, and an agent shoved him into a car. He lifted his chin high. He would not be ashamed. He would not show them fear. He had survived the past five decades only guessing what happened to his wife.

  If he died tonight, he would either be reunited with his beloved or at least be able to watch her from above.

  CHAPTER 6

  Hannah paced back and forth while she waited for Simon. Her footsteps on the crunching leaves made far too much noise, but she didn’t care. If he planned to take over her entire mission, why had she sneaked back into North Korea at all? If he was just going to snatch all the Bibles and deliver them himself, why had she ever left the abundance and relative safety of the Sterns’? She should just give him her backpack and return to Yanji.

  Did he doubt she could complete her assignment? Was that why he followed her? For the briefest moment, she wondered if Mr. or Mrs. Stern had asked him to look after her. She huffed and recalled the Sterns’ incessant grilling over the past several months: Are you certain you want to go back to North Korea? Are you sure you’re ready? We could help you relocate to South Korea where you’ll be safe. Was it because she was a girl? Was that why nobody believed in her?

  At first, she was grateful for Simon’s company. Ecstatic, even. She had never agreed with the Sterns’ decision to send them out alone. How were they supposed to endure without any fellowship or encouragement from one another? The graduates, not the Sterns, were the ones risking their lives sneaking into North Korea. The American missionaries had never set foot in Hannah and Simon’s cut-off, isolated kingdom. What right did they have to tell the graduates how to travel? Simon’s appearance in the woods had felt like divine providence, an answer to all her unspoken hopes.

  For the first few hours.

  And now he wouldn’t even let her finish her tasks. Her tasks, the one the Sterns entrusted specifically to her. She leaned her head back and glared at the night sky. With the thick covering of clouds, she had no way to tell the time. She was supposed to make her way to the center of the village, leaving Bibles and audio devices for a Christian living there. She wasn’t supposed to sit in the woods and count down the seconds. Simon had come to protect her, or so he claimed, but how was she any safer here than in the village itself? If the National Security Agency found her, they’d punish her no matter where she was caught.

  She huffed when the first drops of rain splashed on her forehead. She was tired, alone, and completely unprotected. A few minutes later, she was also soaking wet.

  ***

  “You had a visitor this morning. Who was she?” The interrogator leaned in so close Mr. Tong could smell the sour tinge of vinegar on his breath.

  “I did not have the honor to learn her name.” Mr. Tong was thankful he was blind. The interrogator, no matter how hard he might try, would never get a physical description out of him.

  “I’ll make you talk, old man. Whether your god saves you depends on how much information you give me.” To make his point, he grabbed one of Mr. Tong’s fingers and wedged a sharp needle into the soft spot between the nail and the flesh underneath. “What was her name?”

  Mr. Tong tried to keep his head steady, but the palsy just traveled down to his free hand.

  The interrogator laughed. “I’ll make you quiver before the night’s through, Christian pig. Now tell me who your visitor was.”

  Mr. Tong waited until his trembling subsided. Then he lifted his chin. “Even if I knew, I would never betray her to someone like you.”

  The interrogator snorted. Mr. Tong heard the sound of metal clinking against metal. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

  ***

  Simon walked as fast as he dared. His only goal was to make the delivery and return to Hannah as soon as possible. He hated leaving her alone. Did she even know what dangers awaited her on this side of the Tumen River? Up until the day they graduated, he hoped she would back out of the program, but her heart was set on fulfilling this mission. He shouldn’t have followed her, but he needed to know she was safe. At least now he could protect her, and he would keep on protecting her as long as he was breathing.

  He hurried to the village with both hands clenched. Everything was as it should be. He would pass a hundred sleepless nights or cross a dozen flowing rivers if it kept Hannah cradled in the arm of safety. He recalled the feel of her head against his chest when she hugged him earlier today. When they found the grove of trees and he lay down to rest that afternoon, her physical closeness nearly drove him to distraction. It had taken him twice as long as it should have to fall asleep.

  Even so, he knew his longings were nothing more than fantasy. Once North Korea was open to the gospel, once his compatriots were free to worship Christ publicly, he could consider the luxury of marriage. Until then, there was too much work to do. He wiped cool drops of rain off his cheeks and forced his senseless musings out of his mind. He had a delivery to make. It was time to focus. If anything went wrong, he had to be ready to run and get back to Hannah. With ears strained and muscles tense, he hurried on.

  He was going so fast he didn’t even notice the child crouched beside the trail. After nearly tripping, Simon caught his balance and spun around. The boy thrust a crumpled piece of paper into his palm, darted off, and disappeared. Simon scanned the note. Don’t go back the way you came. Unsafe. You will find shelter here. A crude map marked a point on the opposite end of the village.

  With his breath stuck somewhere between his throat and his lips, Simon turned back on the trail. His lungs bursting, he raced back through the woods toward Hannah. He had to get her out of there.

  ***

  By the time she heard the men and calculated how fast she had to move to outrun them, Hannah’s legs were frozen in place. A flashlight blinded her eyes. The men rushed closer. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out. She couldn’t let Simon hear. He’d run to her rescue, and then they’d both be taken. The guards would reach her in just another second or two. She glanced up at the olive-green uniforms. National Security Agency. It was too late for her. One of the men grabbed a handful of her hair and pressed his lips against her ear. Nausea threatened to knock her off her feet as his coarse stubble scratched her skin.

  “Going for a walk in the rain?”

  The backpack was only a few paces away, but she refused to look at it. Keep it hidden, Lord, she prayed. When Simon came back and found her missing, at least he could take the Bibles to those who needed them.

  For the first time since she left Yanji, the verses she memorized about fear flowed from her spirit without effort. Have I not commanded you, be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified, do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. God had sent Simon to walk with her for a day. Now the two of them would be torn apart once again, and the Holy Spirit himself would have to give Hannah the power and strength she needed to carry on.

  The first agent clenched her hair, exposing her throat, and his partner walked in slow circles around her. “Look what we have here.” Both men chuckled.

  She focused all her energy on inhaling and exhaling. Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear. Though war break out against me, even then will I be confident.

  “It’s not safe for a little girl to be out alone in the big, dark woods.” He stopped and stroked her cheek. His finger ran down to her neck. “You never know what could happen to a nice little thing like you.”

  She thought about the backpack. If she could get them to leave now, it might stay hidden. “Where are you going to take me?” She tried to sound brave, but her voice was betrayed by an incriminating squeak.

  The man frowned and shook his head. The other agent twisted her arm behind her back. Her heart pounded in her chest, its thud echoing loudly in her ears. She followed the men. She had to get them as far away from the backpack as possible. She prayed Simon wouldn’t return until they were gone. She prayed he would find the Bibles where she left them.

  The ministry had to continue.

  CHAPTER 7

  Simon doubled over. He whispered her name but knew she was gone. He waved the flashlight around the empty grove. Nothing. With a groan, he hurled the light to the ground and smashed the lens with the heel of his boot. Why Hannah? She was too young, too innocent. He hated thinking about what might befall her in enemy hands, but his mind would focus on nothing else. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and stumbled blindly into the woods.