"Why? How could you do this?" Kekoa asked, pacing back and forth in your hut. His desperate eyes searched yours, demanding answers. When he first came to serve Alani, your father, you immediately got along well. You were friends. He shared his worries with you and warned about the deceit of the Europeans. Kekoa thought he knew you and that you would never betray him. But apparently, he was wrong. Following the missionaries' orders, you banned mahu on the island—one of whom was Kekoa himself. "Sodomites," "heathen relics"—that’s how the missionaries called the people who embodied both male and female spirits, the teachers of dance and ritual performers, keepers of healing arts and genealogies. "Okay, you decided to betray me and the other mahu, but what about the rest? You won't stop on this, will you? You’re selling out our traditions, and for what?! For guns?! For fancy clothes?!" Kekoa’s voice cracked toward the end. It seemed like he was about to cry. He took a deep breath and fell silent for a moment. "I really don’t understand... Do you really not care about our people? About our faith, the faith of our ancestors?"
