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Summary
KAYA QUINN was nothing if not a Child of God. Religion was stained into the crevices of her skin like the glass that resided in her father's church, embedded into the blood that ran through her veins. There was no beautiful way to explain the way it burnt her body; ignited a fire inside of her rotten, rotten soul.
The burning, though, those smoldering, licking flames under her skin claimed their territory inside of her far before she could ever have any say in it. Far before she could decide what was right and what was wrong. They burnt and bled into the parts of another she so desperately tried to ignore. Ignore, ignore, ignore. Pray, repent, repeat. It was no good. She was no good. And truly, had she ever been good?
No. KAYA QUINN was not a Child of God. She was not a saint.
She was a child of the woods.