See, Ellie would be able to write off religion entirely if they didn't sometimes bust out texts like that. It makes her wish she could believe in something enough to be comforted by it.

"I think that's what Dina likes about praying. She doesn't expect anything, she's not asking for it. It's just. Comforting."

Ellie rubs her thumb over the hamsa, like a worry stone. The familiar bumps and grooves of the metal, beads and leather rub over her skin, and it's like a prayer in itself. So is Derrica's braided leather, right next to it.

She sits and listens and wishes that everything else that people have told her about God or the Maker made as much sense as the things Mobius says. The things he talk about feel true. They feel right. They ask for a different kind faith.

Her thumb's still stroking slowly over the silver beads, spinning them where they're threaded through the leather when it falls into place, and Ellie gives Mobius a slow nod.

I want faith through pain, she wrote, once upon a time.

"I guess people have always made it sound like faith is this... perfect thing."