Pastor Gabriel Nunez had never heard of anything like this, and he was a man who prided himself on hearing quite a bit.
“‘To leave the Camerancy'” he repeated. “I, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t think it can be done, honestly. To leave the Camerancy!”
“My mind is decided on the matter.”
“What? Speak up,” Pastor Nunez shouted. The whispering, it was the whispering that really put him over the edge. This was the third resignation he’d had to tender in less than a week: THREE. In one week! It was this new form of heresy, sweeping through the lower ranks! Three!
“I’m afraid I’ve said all I have to.”
“Speak up, damn you!” Pastor Nunez was on his feet, although he didn’t remember standing. “Speak up! This is the office of God you’re so cavalierly addressing!”
But Deacon Rachael Flannerty didn’t speak, she didn’t even whisper. Instead, she only smiled, and it was something about that smile that sent Pastor Gabriel Nunez leaping over the desk, seeking to tear the all too knowing expression from the young women’s face.
Of course, given the nature of the Camerancy, footage of the attack was around the world in minutes, sparking outrage, and a new level of attention to the fringe movement that was coming to be known as, the ‘Whispering Deacons.’