Author's Note: Set prior to Ballad.

"Honor thy father and thy mother."

She recited those six words clear and proud in Sunday School, every Sunday, for many years, in unison with her classmates. She could hear them now, even still, in a disembodied voice inside her head. Perhaps it was her conscience.

She did everything she could to obey it. After all, she did love her parents.

Until the one day when her resistance slid down, and she allowed one moment of weakness, out of her parents' sight. And as her hands slipped under her nightgown a few months later, feeling the slight swell of her belly, she let out a pained sigh. This wasn't letting herself go, gaining a few; this was something much, much worse.

Her parents would be so disappointed in her. She could hear her father yelling at her now, which would be followed by him calling their pastor, begging for advice on what to do about his unwed, pregnant teenage daughter. The former paragon of virtue had fallen from grace.

Honor thy father and thy mother. This was about the furthest thing from "honor" she could have done.

No amount of prayer or holy water could ever wash away this sin.