He lived in fear of many things—bankruptcy, car crashes, his father rising from the grave—but the one that caused the largest amount of fear, his lifelong Fear Leader for the time being, was being found out as an atheist working in a Baptist hospital.

He’d been convinced, utterly convinced, that nothing lay ahead when the lights went out since childhood, when fate had seen fit to take his angel mother in her 40s while the man who’d somehow married her was barking insults and orders until he was 92. It had manifested as mostly abstinence for him; quietly reclaiming Sundays for himself, bowing his head but remaining silent when prayers were called for, privately scoffing at politicians who claimed divine guidance but in fact worshiped the almighty dollar.

But a Baptist hospital was different. It was explicitly, openly, religious. Giant bible verses decorated the lobby. Staff were encouraged to write out their own favored verses and affirmations on whatever was handy, to show their faith to people in nead of healing—and possibly saving. It turned his stomach, to be honest, but the work as an X-ray tech was the best in town and there was no way he could afford a better home than the one he’d inherited, not in this market and with all the loans.

Now, Baptist didn’t require people who worked there to be religious. That was still technically illegal. And he wasn’t even the only atheist there; Marigold at the sonography outpatient desk was a full-on heathen. But he couldn’t to play the game, couldn’t bring himself to tape lies to his workstation, couldn’t accept the invites to this or that church. He just couldn’t.

And if that ever got out, people would notice. Marigold got a pass because she bowed the head and bent the knee in a temple of lies once weekly, but not him. If one of the more devout higher-ups learned of his apostasy, if Dr. Theodore or Mr. Everts found out, they could use the information like a dagger in the heart of his career. No promotions, no raises, no nothing for the heathen.

Was it a rational fear? Probably not; he was able to admit that much to himself. But for someone who had winced at every sound his father had made, the idea of an unknowable doom around every corner was well and truly ingrained.

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