Previously on the Chosen People.

His name shall be Moses because I drew him out of the water.

While Ramsey's embodied the glory of Ra, Moses remained a figure suspended between two worlds.

He was neither fully Egyptian nor entirely Hebrew, neither slave nor free. He was Moses, the stray Hebrew pup raised in the

heart of Pharaoh's court. That was your Hebrew showing. That's why they need the whip. They're

animals in need of a master. Remember that you're not one of them, Moses. You're in the household of Pharaoh. Act like it. Yes, Ramsey's.

Moses stopped at the edge of the work site. His gaze lingering on a young man, no older than himself,

struggling to lift a stone that was too heavy for him. The overseer's whip lashed out,

striking the man across the back, and he staggered, falling to his knees. The man screamed in pain.

Hebrew dog? Get up and lift!

That's enough! Leave him alone!

These dogs need to know who the masters are!

I said enough!

They struggled. The commander's hands clawing at Moses, but the prince pinned him down,

his hands closing around the man's throat.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the struggle ended. The overseer's body went limp, his eyes

glassy and still. What have I done? Who am I? Moses ran, his feet barely touching the ground as he tore through the crowded marketplace.

I had to get out of here.

Moses wandered the desert. His thoughts are whirlwind of guilt and fear. He was no longer a prince, nor was he a slave.

He was an exile, a fugitive with no home and no kin.

In the vast emptiness of the wilderness, Moses was utterly, desperately alone.

This is an I-Heart podcast, guaranteed human.

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