The Mole girls survived underground for seven years in the keep of Reverend Winslow

He braided their hair into weaving chains and permitted them to sing only after evening prayer

Outside, he said, the sun has been stolen by a ravenous monster, swallowed whole like an orange down the snake throat

At supper, the Mole girls chew their peanut butter, swallowing past hard inquiries like, "Where is my daughter?" knowing to ask is the same as
"Where is God?"