Uncommon Ground-Pleasant Hearts Series- Book 1files.bookfunnel.com/yc04dki9f2/Uncommon Ground - Author Joy Oh… · UNCOMMON GROUND : PLEASANT HEARTS CHRISTIAN SUSPENSE SERIES-BOOK

UNCOMMON GROUND-PLEASANT HEARTS

SERIES- BOOK 1

JOY OHAGWU

UNCOMMON GROUND :PLEASANT HEARTS CHRISTIAN SUSPENSE SERIES-BOOK 1

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FOUNDATIONAL SCRIPTURE

“Behold, I will do a new thing, now it shall spring forth; shall

you not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness

and rivers in the desert.”-Isaiah 43:19

To JESUS, Giver of new beginnings

“HT

1

he day started like an ordinary day but unraveled atthe blink of an eye.

old the steel handle!” Dennis Bancroft, twenty-year gas industry veteran and seasoned extraction

engineer with Fignon Gas, gripped his overalls and pushed ablack button to sound the evacuation alarm for the WhiteOak hilltop facility. But he doubted his men heard him whilethey battled to seize control of the Operations ControllerRoom’s double doors against a stubborn and sudden gust ofwind. The gas pressure indication meters on his dash

showed something was wrong underground. Pressure wasrising fast—too fast.

Confusion swirled through him because an hour earlier,nothing seemed out of place when he’d visually observeddown the valley. But from experience, he knew better than totrust his eyes in judging gaseous matter. Moreover, an hourbefore now was too dark to see any possible problems as thesun just started to grace the horizon. His blood pressurespiked when the gauges in the monitoring room threatenedto blow a minute ago. Gauge needles swung forward near red—the mark of danger.

Though Fignon Gas was situated uphill, even a minor gasleak could turn deadly miles away. He hated what he had todo next, but he had no choice. He leaned into the emergencyannouncement mic, sweat beading his forehead. “Everyone,please Shelter in Place! I repeat, Shelter in Place!”

The ground beneath him shook vehemently, and thetransparent sealed gauge screens shattered. He managed toreach the Drop Dead plug and yanked it to cease all gasextraction operations. Every machine spluttered to a stop.Trembling, he crawled beneath his desk, clutching the footof his desk drawer. The fluorescent overhead blew out andplunged him into early morning darkness. He closed his eyesand willed the shaking ground to stop, but it only quakedharder. Gripped by fear of the unknown, a panic attack set inand he passed out. But not before thanking God that his son,

2 JOY OHAGWU

M

Trevor, had chosen a Navy recruitment interview overworking at the station that day.

y daughter’s face is like a sealed curtain, Stella Heart-Parsons reminded herself, lest she let Sharon’s big

brown eyes take her in. Her hair, which Stella had groomeduntil Sharon prided herself in its length and fiery-red lush,cascaded in a ponytail in contrast to White Oak’s brighteningblue morning skyline. Leaves on oak trees around CrossoverBuilding—her office building—turned shades of red andyellow, casting a perfect fall image. In the year since thebuilding’s creation, its beauty grew on her daily. But today,they were moving and Sharon came to help her pack.

Stella sighed. If she’d ever needed a day to go perfectly, itwas today. But Sharon appeared set to ruin it. As had beenher attitude for the past ten years.

Something wasn’t right. She trained her eyes on bothoccupants before her in white lab coats. She had told them tobe careful when boxing fragile lab items. So what happened,because she couldn’t see any shattered glass—yet?

Her inquiring gaze swept the room. “What’s going onhere?” Instead of an answer, the sealed curtain—Sharon’sface—propped with the curve of a coming smile. A pastedsmile shielded the barrier she never let slip. The questionbarely escaped her lips before Sharon’s brows arched high as

Uncommon Ground-Pleasant Hearts Series- Book 1 3

she feigned ignorance with inched shoulders. She was goingwith her typical nonresponse, leaving Stella to get heranswers elsewhere.

But Stella stayed her eyes on her daughter this time,insistent. Someone would tell her what the scene she walkedinto meant. Unease settled on her heart. Was something seri-ously damaged?

Something felt wrong, but not just with the scenario. Abroader problem loomed, though she couldn’t place a fingeron it. Tightness crawled up her arm. But Stella chucked it upto restless sleep and the unease rousing her belly to missingbreakfast.

Sometimes, working in medicine-related environmentsproduced tense moments, but nothing she hadn’t seenduring her hands-on days. Even when you’ve got a PhD innursing and no longer practiced emergency-care nursing, theresearch still got intense. Maybe she’d pushed too hard lastnight when she’d insisted on staying up late to complete andsubmit her final report for this project. She hated procrasti-nation, though it plagued her oftentimes. But giving thehospital her final project before sleeping at one a.m., cleareda huge item off her to-do, leaving her free to come in andpack today. What came next? She still prayed.

Though it was time to move on, she appreciated thehospital’s generosity in giving her the opportunity and spaceto pursue her dreams. Once more, she surveyed the well-equipped and state-of-the-art lab they had provided for her,

4 JOY OHAGWU

satisfaction coursing through her veins. Here, her findings onimproved techniques for emergency insulin delivery offeredpriceless, faster absorption, sure to improve diabetic care ifimplemented. That was enough compensation for her. Eventhough it still had to undergo rigorous testing and regulatoryapproval by the government, she celebrated. She had criedwith joy on the night of her breakthrough discovery. Thenshe ate pizza all night and made up for it by working out fortwo hours the following morning until her arms were sore.

Thankful and satisfied with the project’s completion, shestill had time to figure out how and what to pursue next tokeep providing for her and Sharon.

As a single mom, she’d faced her share of tough financialtimes. Especially during her PhD program. Eating noodlesand eggs for dinner night after night offered their onlyoption that didn’t involve borrowing. She couldn’t workovernight shifts at the hospital like her colleagues didbecause of Sharon, so she was stuck with a few part-timeshifts to meet their needs. But she’d persevered, and surpris-ingly, Sharon never complained about what little they had.Armed with her PhD in a lucrative field coupled with hernew research experience, she’d have her pick of jobs themoment she hit Apply, and she had God to thank for that.

Stella looked long and hard at the two again, removingher red-rimmed designer lenses which she rarely wore thesedays, and placed them on the counter.

“Before I entered, I mean? What happened?”


Sharon met her question with a daring stoic glare. Atseventeen, her fierceness cut both ways, depending on howshe was feeling.

Now, Stella got her sealed-curtain response. Problem was,Stella frowned, you never knew what was behind the curtainunless you shocked it open—or she let you in—which has nothappened in a decade, to my recollection. Not since the fateful daywhen everything turned sour.

Resisting the urge to travel along a bitter memory lane,Stella spun to the only other person who could tell her whatwas going on. Terra, her lab assistant on the project. Butwhen Terra looked away as soon as Stella’s gaze fell on her,Stella doubted she’d speak either. Some code of silence wasin effect—one that excluded her. Frustration rose, and shejumped when the air conditioner kicked on and blew wispsof hair with a chilling blast onto her face. Why was shejumpy?

Since she woke up this morning, tension had wound hernerves into a hard ball. If she couldn’t shake it soon, onlystrong black coffee would take the edge off and get her alert.She counted on its waking effect. But this day had barelystarted, and things already felt out of place. She lived anorganized life and hated disruptions. She rubbed her neck toease the knot. Sharon curled her arms with her face twistedin a frown while Terra remained rooted like a statue, herblack hair packed in bob fashion. Again, a nagging feelingtugged at Stella—something, other than the scenario before

6 JOY OHAGWU

her, was wrong. Queasiness gripped her gut. Should I pray?Better deal with this pair and their actions first.

She pointed to Terra, whose hands vibrantly swung wideopen in denial without an accusation being made yet. “Terra,why do you have a soiled Band-Aid lodged inside yourmouth?”

Both exchanged glances, but said nothing. Terra trem-bled, while darting her eyes between Sharon and Stella. Sheknew. Her loyalty was being tested. Terra respected Stella asher boss, but Stella knew where her loyalty would ultimatelyrest—the person with whom she shared a similar worldview.She shifted, glanced downward, but remained silent.

Having three younger sisters had done little to prepareStella for motherhood. She’d thought she knew everythingshe needed. Stella, Erica, April, and Summer had uniquepersonalities and learned to respect each other’s boundariesgrowing up. But as a mom now, every day unveiled a newchallenge, and she’d learned to depend on God even more.

Sharon, who was clued in by Terra’s silence, relaxed hertense shoulders, sure that Terra wouldn’t give anything up.Hurt trailed her brazenness right down to Stella’s heart. Shecontrolled her breathing, exhaled slowly, and bit her lip tocurb her anger.

Stella was starting to feel like a stranger in her own office.She was tired of being the single authority in her family withno backup when her instruction was flouted or her authoritychallenged. Great peace have they which love thy law, and


nothing shall offend them. She recited inwardly as Sharon’seyes taunted her to push harder, a smile dancing at thecorners of her lips again. But Stella wasn’t going to play hergame of control. Past experience painfully taught hernothing good came of it. And right now, she wasn’t willing toentertain the frustration, especially not in this professionalenvironment.

Was bringing Sharon here a bad idea? Every day, she’dhoped they would grow closer, yet the chasm widened.Drawing in a long breath, she beckoned Terra closer.

Stella would maintain the lab’s integrity and not allow arebellious teen or a coconspirator assistant to thrash it. Oneyear gone and she’d had no major incident. She’d keep itthat way.

Sharon released a sharp huff, crossed her arms, andtapped her white sneaker-clad foot on the gray tiles. Whydidn’t life have a rewind button? Stella’d reverse the fatefulday ten years ago, when her sweet little girl became a personshe didn’t recognize—a girl rejecting faith in God. How shewished for—

Sharon lifted a drawing ruler and ran it noisily along theedge of the table—bringing Stella’s thoughts back to thepresent. Stella silently withdrew it from her and tossed itinside a nearly full moving box. She prayed for the rightwords.

“Sharon, you know better.” Whatever occurred previ-ously, Stella pressed upon her the value of a better choice. If

8 JOY OHAGWU

only she could communicate that emotionally torturing herdidn’t make life any easier for Sharon as she might think. Buteven if she succeeded to, Sharon wouldn’t stop because it wasnow a habit, a terrible one. Wired to tick her off was Sharon’snew normal, and only God could break it off her.

Willing herself not to react out of anger, Stellaapproached Terra where she remained frozen in place withher hands dropped to her sides. The scattered sheets on thetesting area’s desk spoke of an argument—but what couldthese two argue about? Obviously, no one was telling her.

It couldn’t be about faith, since they both professed none.Time to gain control of this out-of-control situation.

Stella pushed inward a highlighter teetering on thepolished oak desk’s edge, straightened the scattered sheets,and settled them on a file holder. Then she caught Terra’sgreen-eyed gaze, who though only two years older thanSharon, showed more responsibility. Maybe she was scaredand needed assurance.

“If something was damaged, I will assume responsibility.So, will someone tell me what happened or do I have to getMark up here? Which do you want?” Perhaps a threat withthe lone security guard posted at the first floor reception areawould spill the truth. But Terra shifted from one foot toanother avoiding Stella’s eyes.

And how could she think while staring at the soiledBand-Aid still trapped in Terra’s slightly parted mouth?


Stella pointed at it, and with a sharp exhale, Terra sent theobject flapping off her lips.

Fed up, Stella turned toward the testing area and wavedTerra out of the lab, toward her main office suite next door.For the life of her, Stella couldn’t imagine…this. “Pick thattape off the floor, will you? And please go clean up, thorough-ly.” She pulled her brown leather jacket off the back of a highlab chair where she’d hung it when she entered. She slid iton to ward off the chill from the central air conditioner’sbreeze. This wasn’t the quiet, uneventful fall day she’d hopedfor. And the day was just starting.…

She spun to catch Sharon tiptoeing away from behind—an attempt to hightail after Terra. Stella halted her with aloose tug on her arm and a firm detaining gaze. Disappoint-ment crossed Sharon’s face as she stared longingly at thedoor. If she’d thought she was getting off easy on this one,she was wrong. “As for you, we’re talking right now. Comewith me.”

Yet angry, Stella couldn’t figure the appropriate way toregister her displeasure without scaring Sharon. To say shewas fed up was an understatement. Why was Sharon resis-tant to authority? To her?

Sharon grunted and dragged her feet crankily behind.Her squeaking-shoes-on-the-tile protest did her no good asStella paused midway and stooped to gather the researchbooks that originally brought her to the lab. Why wasn’t shemore like her sister, Erica? Carefree, simpleminded? If she

10 JOY OHAGWU

was, this scene she’d walked into might not move her. Buteven then, she doubted it.

She exhaled loudly enough for Sharon to hear whiletrailing behind and know she’d caused trouble as theywound between two lab tables. Sharon bent over to tie upher loose sneakers’ laces, as though knowing that would bethe next item of reproof. Leaving them loose was the fashionthese days, but Stella insisted she appear responsibly dressedwhenever at her office.

Further frustrated, she bit back the regret lining herthoughts. Sharon was her daughter and only child, and shewould not tire of her no matter how difficult. Ever. To makematters worse, Sharon yanked her phone, and her fingerswent to work on it. Always on her phone. Both were insepara-ble. Not today. No itching fingers.

“Put it down, Sharon. On the table.” Stella pointed, andSharon complied, with an accompanying pout.

The gold-engraved Stella Heart desk nameplate peepedfrom the tool room’s glass window by the left. She’d officiallyreclaimed her maiden name before starting this project,because professionally it was easier than a compound name.No reason to always explain that she was a widow and nolonger married. She couldn’t leave the nameplate behind soshe moved to go grab it before dealing with Sharon’s behav-ioral issues.

Upon realizing that she’d given Sharon her keys theprevious day, she nodded, and Sharon knew to follow,


T

though her steps still slowed with the knowledge that herreproving lecture was only delayed and not ruled out.

he rising sun shone behind her over the horizon,brightening up the space with an orange hue. The

clear glass floor-to-ceiling surround windows were one of thebuilding’s perks. Stella’s lips curved into a smile. She wasmissing the space already.

She buttoned up her purple inner sweater beneath theleather jacket. The central air often felt too cold. Theyusually set them to about 55 degrees throughout the yearregardless of the season.

As they drew closer, she saw the doorway slightly parted.Sharon didn’t need a key to open it after all. Somethingbuzzed around Stella’s ear. She swatted it off with one handas she halted inches from the door. Another followed—fast—hovering over her face.

Bees. Specifically, a swarm of them darkened the door-way’s top hinge. If she pushed the door wider, she’d split theforming nest open. She hadn’t entered that room in monthssince she kept her regular tools on the testing area’s table.How and when had they gotten there and remained longenough to form a nest?

She, Sharon, and Terra typically stayed at her main officeat the suite’s other side. Both girls only waited at the lab

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when they arrived before her, like today when she had todrop off mail first then take the train in to work. In addition,Stella preferred to be armed with a cup of coffee before shefaced the day, unlike her sister, Erica. No wonder Erica tookto a career in the skies as an air hostess. Her bubbly person-ality could not be denied.

But not for Stella. Nor for April, who loved coffee asmuch as Stella did. Although Stella thought the urgency ofher job as a crime-scene specialist partly accounted forApril’s love for coffee, it didn’t explain her lack of acceptablesocial skills. April’s bluntness could kill the buzz in any socialsituation. Summer, her youngest sister, was simply Summer—gentle, unassuming, and tucked far away in Wyoming.

Put it succinctly, Stella wasn’t a morning person. And shepreferred solid ground to air travel. So when Terra reachedthe office half an hour before her in the morning, sheprepared the lab. Stella liked working late, whereas nine-teen-year-old Terra got antsy once the clock struck six or thesun went down—whichever happened first. Stella shrugged.A youth itching to get outside, but instead was stuck workingafter dark with a boss almost twice her age definitely couldn’tbe her idea of fun.

But why didn’t Terra or Sharon spot the nest? Why didn’tshe either? How did these bees get inside the building?

Slowly, Stella raised her forefinger and spun circles in theair, signaling for Sharon to back up. Without turning, sheheard Sharon’s shoes sliding backward. Halfway back into


the lab, she found her voice again. “We need to call pestcontrol ASAP—”

Something boomed outside. Her eyes trailed the soundout the glass window. A quake in the ground shook her feet,tearing her gaze from the window to the floor under her.

14 JOY OHAGWU

S

2

tella shot her eyes upward when something beganto block the orange glow of the rising sunlight fromher peripheral vision while the ground still quaked

beneath her. She spread her feet to stabilize her stance, buther eyes pinned to a place ahead, outside the glass windows.

Something was wrong. It wasn’t just a feeling in her gutanymore. She stared right at it out the window and felt thequake inside her bones.

Stella gasped as the black-tarred, double-yellow-lineddemarcated strip of road leading to the parking lot flutteredlike a hoisted flag flapping against whooshing strong wind. Itrose high—about twenty feet—and cascaded downward like

an angry wave, disappearing into the ground and out ofsight.

When the road had lifted, the orange sky met the black-tarred ground, and there was no more difference as theymerged. Stella shot a bewildered glance to Sharon, whoseeyes rounded wide as golf balls. Judging from them and hergaping mouth, she’d seen what Stella saw too. A shudder ranthrough Stella as the nest dropped to the ground and thebees, now well agitated, scattered into the tool room. If sheand Sharon had succeeded in entering the tool room just aminute ago…

Stella shuddered and stumbled forward. “Go!” She ledthe way and reached an arm behind for Sharon’s whichlocked in with hers in a moment. Her most precious posses-sion safely in hand, she hurtled toward the lab door. Stellapaused. “Terra?”

Sharon’s breathing came in heaves behind her. “Gone. Isaw her get in the elevator.” The one ten feet beyond themain office’s glass doors.

Stella’s leather jacket disturbed a stack of documents on ashelf at the door, but she hurried out with Sharon in tow asthe stack thudded to the floor. The ground began quakingagain, generating screams from other office suites on thethird floor. The sounds pierced Stella’s eardrums and heart.The slim hallway milled with people pressing shoulder toshoulder, pouring out of twelve offices on each side, leavinglittle room to maneuver.

16 JOY OHAGWU

Whatever was going on, she’d get Sharon to safety beforefiguring things out. Sharon’s hand still in hers, Stella guidedthem toward the door marked Stairwell, next to the doubleelevators once the quake eased. People stacked into bothelevators, despite the warning posted on there not to do so inan emergency. She’d never experienced an earthquake first-hand, but seeing the ground do a double flip left her shaky.Was that how a typical earthquake occurred? Of course, adisaster was still a disaster, and she wanted no part in any.

Holding the stairway railing with one hand, and Sharonwith the other, she urged her to speed through a panickedthrong, down to the first floor. Stella prayed urgently in herheart as fear tried to overpower her. Lord Jesus, please deliverus from evil.… Whatever this was, it was not good.

When they spilled out to the lobby, chaos, confusion, andloud shouts greeted them. Stella faintly heard Sharon’s voice.

“Where—?”But the cries, screams, and despair around them heart

wrenchingly swallowed her words.Stella’s apprehension grew. However Sharon’s safety was

paramount to her. Stella searched for her phone but winced—she’d left it in her purse upstairs. So was Sharon’s, aftershe’d asked her to put it down. They were now incommuni-cado. If only Erica or one of her sisters was close by.

Sharon’s hand slipped from Stella’s. Her red hair tumbledover her sleeveless sky-blue shirt as she moved toward the


commuter train’s receiving platform sectioned off from thewide reception area.

Stella followed Sharon’s movement with her eyes, settlingon a point ahead. The arrival platform had been builtthrough the arc of the building. Flashing brilliant-blue lightsoverhead projected the stop ID on a hanging electronicdisplay board.

Bellgreen Station. The gaining crowd flanked its longledge, pushing close to the platform edge. The ultramodernsleek machine of a train usually serviced the complex end toend—a service that was key to the building’s commuterappeal. This time though, Stella doubted the crowd would begetting on for any other reason but to escape calamity. Stella’sgaze stayed on Sharon’s svelte five-foot-nine-inch frame—talland clad in blue jeans, red hair bouncing, at full sprintahead. Why did Sharon choose to wear sneakers in fall?Boots were in style. Her sleeveless top stopped its sway at herhip when she halted to glance back.

Her red head contrasted with Stella’s black, making ithard to tell she was Stella’s daughter at a glance, until onesaw their mutual brown eyes and bow-curved eyebrows.Sharon’s fiery hair came courtesy of her paternal grandma,and she got her strong personality from her dad—Stella’s latehusband, Scott Parsons—who was killed in the line of dutyas a war correspondent ten years ago.

Sharon reminded her of him every day. The tilt of herneck to the side when strolling like he did, or her slender

18 JOY OHAGWU

wrist with a birthmark similar to her dad’s offered constantreminders. Those who knew him fondly said Sharon’s resem-blance to Stella stopped at eye color. She was Scott’s carboncopy in every other way.

The ground began shaking again. Sharon was still afar offand seemed lost in thought. Whatever she was thinking, shewas alone in it because everyone shook from head to toe withthe vibrations coming from below. People crashed low to theground in terror, but then another tarred V-shaped roadoutside the building flipped high and sunk into the ground.

Hot vapor and steam flooded the air-conditioned stationas the large glass doors leading in and out shattered. Fever-pitched screams followed. Most of the ground was sinking.What didn’t sink was the green grassy area around the outerlawn, and the mostly bare, hilly terrain of the now-unoccu-pied military installation next to this complex.

The Crossover Complex—this building—still stood. Sodid the train that whirred gradually and then fully stoppedon the platform. For whatever reason the building stood, shewas grateful not to be buried alive. Those inside the trainappeared oblivious. Maybe it was their preoccupied minds,or the train’s motion, but they seemed unperturbed.

Frankly, they faced a bigger problem. The train was auto-piloted—with no driver. No one to push Stop in case theysaw something wrong.

Just then, part of the platform between two railcarscollapsed, swallowed by the dark ground beyond. Those


inside the train couldn’t see it. But those waiting outside did,and many were hyperventilating.

Amid the panicked faces and gut-wrenching screams, theautopilot train automatedly announced its readiness toservice the stop and spill its passengers onto the partlycollapsed platform. They gathered inside at the doors, clue-less as to what waited on the other side.

Stella forgot momentarily about Sharon and geared toprevent the coming calamity. She had to do something.Everyone outside the train moved in different directions,aimlessly fleeing, but unsure where to step, or what portionof the ground was safe.

A sticky-sweet, melting-rubber smell clogged the air.Intolerable heat baked her skin as a sharp rise in tempera-ture steamed from the ground.

They needed to leave the area. But first, she had to stopthe passengers from exiting if possible to save their lives.

Give Sharon your jacket.The instruction stemmed from deep within. But Sharon

was still far off. So Stella shrugged off her jacket and waved itvigorously to alert the passengers inside the train. Theystared at her through miniature windows like she was crazy.Frustrated, she waved harder, hoping someone would takeher seriously enough to stay back.

The ground began trembling again, and she lost herbalance. Her jacket flew from her hand and landed on theground.

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Give your jacket to Sharon.No mistaking it this time. God wanted her to do it. She

visually searched for Sharon and saw her approaching, adistant look in her eye. Stella seized her hand when sheneared. A pressing urgency followed another repeat of theearlier, although irrational instruction.

The place was hot. Sharon didn’t need a jacket. Stellaherself didn’t even need it any longer. But why? Frustrationover having to obey a divine instruction at an inconvenienttime assailed her thoughts. But experience taught her whatdelayed obedience caused. She’d done it once and borne theguilt. She wasn’t going to delay this time. Nor ever again.

Stella held Sharon’s wrist firmly until she spun andlooked at her questioningly. Stella handed her the jacket.“Take this. Tie it around your waist. Now.” Sharon stared at itfor a moment, and then did as Stella asked, looping thejacket twice to secure it.

Done, Stella moved to save Sharon the sight of theimpending disaster awaiting those alighting soon from thetrain. Everything happened fast. Barely a minute had passedsince the train had stopped, and the doors were yet to open.She pulled Sharon behind her to where edges of the plat-form remained, almost hugging the train. She avoided thedoors that were now crowded with desperate survivorsoutside, pressing on them. Instead, she led Sharon to the endof the train closest to them. The part bringing up the rear,fitted with handrails.


Without a word, they both hopped on the slim extensionmeant to beautify the end of the train. The Do Not Enterwarning didn’t keep them off. Mother and daughter clungonto the slim iron handrails to keep from falling, preferringthis danger to the sinking ground. At least, the train stillstood.

But they couldn’t stay. The train would move soon. Theydidn’t want to travel with it. Neither did they want to get backdown to the sinking platform. Exasperation swept throughStella as Sharon struggled with her grip behind her. “Holdtight!” Lord, another option, please.… “One that doesn’t involveuntimely deaths,” Stella whispered.

There was no person to yell to, to ask them to manuallystop the train from moving. This was the last station on theWhisper Line. It would begin its return trip from here. Asboth ladies stabilized aboard its end, its starting humvibrated through Stella’s fingers while she gripped the slimhandle.

Sharon and Stella looked at each other. Anywhere buthere, ran through Stella’s mind. She nodded to Sharon asmore screams emanating from the platform proved they’dmade the right call to climb the train. Another wave of theground roiling had sent some people plunging.

That was not good. At all. Worse still, the train acceler-ated slowly, ready to glide back into the darkened tunnel ithad emerged from. There was no telling what waited beyond.But with the gaping hole on the platform, their options were

22 JOY OHAGWU

sliming by the minute. Lord Jesus, help us.… They were stillalive. Enough reason for gratitude. Now, if they could only—

She spotted it. Green Fescues grass. Stable, unaffectedground. Opposite the platform, on the other side of the trainspread a manicured lawn secured by barbed wires. Itremained unaffected by the destruction all around it.

Stella smiled a little. She’d found good ground. Shepointed Sharon to it. “There!”

Sharon nodded an understanding.Smart girl. But they needed the train to move them closer

to it. They also needed to jump off—fast. She thought of allthe things they needed to happen for this to work out and bither lip. This wouldn’t be easy. It was a long shot.

The train could potentially ferry them onto that stableland—if certain conditions prevailed. Namely, they coordi-nated and reached the train’s opposite edge in time. Thenjumped off at the precise point. Avoided slamming them-selves against the wall, or getting tangled on the barbedwires, but not too early to fall into the electrified and hottracks. All this while sprinting on an auto-driven train. Toomany variables… But…with God all things are possible.

Stella steeled her resolve. They’d do this. Time wasrunning out. Anywhere but here, she reminded herself again.

One step ahead and the silver corrugated narrow stripflooring leading to the other side felt slippery under hershoes, slowing her steps. Granted, it was a short walk, buthow was she supposed to hurry over there with Sharon,


while the clock ticked? Talk about pressure. Actually, fromher estimation, they had one minute tops or they’d be toolate and get caught inside the tunnel with no way out.

“Quick.” Stella beckoned to Sharon. Sharon took herextended hand and anchored to Stella as they moved, ever soslowly, step by step toward the other edge of the train.Seconds dragged like minutes. Barely twenty steps betweenboth ends, but it might as well be four miles. Stella’s heartpounded in her chest, and blood throbbed in her ears. Whenthey neared, Sharon slid her hand free from Stella’s. Now inclear view of their coming green landing site, Stella spunto her.

Sharon appeared calm, but Stella knew better than tojudge Sharon’s feelings by her facial expressions. Both wereworlds apart. The train lurched forward, and Sharonslammed right into Stella’s chest as the train began pickingup speed, shifting her foot further to the end. Stella grippedher arm to prevent her from falling. As they waited, the windpicked up force, whipping hair onto both their faces. Stellaswiped the hair off and swallowed as the gaping mouth of thedarkened tunnel neared and the lawn came into better view.

Fifteen more seconds…Stella turned to Sharon, looked into her eyes, and her

heart twisted. So much she wished to say. But the time wasn’tright, so she settled for the simplest and truest. “I love you,baby.” She didn’t wait for an answer.

Ten seconds…

24 JOY OHAGWU

A quick prayer for Sharon and herself with brief closureof her eyes and quick intake of breath followed. Screamscontinued rising at the platform. Confusion mixed with fearpervaded the air. Stella’s hands felt clammy, but she grippedfirmly to the smooth handle as did Sharon behind her.

Five seconds…She looked Sharon in the eyes and raised one hand to

signal five. “Jump, then roll.” She repeated it again until shegot a nod in response.

They both faced grassy terrain. The tunnel entry was soclose now, it cast a shadow on the grassy area.

Three…“Jump! Now!”


S

3

tella leaped off the train and tumbled onto thegreenery, hitting it hard. Sharp pain climbed theedge of her left shoulder. Then she rolled continu-

ously in a protective curl. When she stopped moving, sheflipped onto her back and leaned up against her right hand,panting and scouring the area for Sharon.

The train’s red taillights disappeared into the tunnel, andshe now saw the passengers who remained at the train plat-form across. Only the electrically charged train tracks sepa-rated her from them. But where was Sharon?

She was supposed to have followed right behind. Did sheget trapped on the train? Or fall into the tracks? Fear seizedher heart. Panic pushed her to her feet before she was ready,

and she staggered. A sweeping gaze that stopped at themouth of the tunnel entrance sent relief surging through her.Sharon was alive. And safe. But the relief soon dulled, anddisappointment gunned through her. Sharon didn’t jumpwhen she’d asked her to.

Sharon must have delayed until the final second—thenjumped and landed on the opposite side of the barbed wirefencing where it met the tunnel’s concrete structure. If she’dmissed by half a second…

Stella’s throat tightened over Sharon’s stubbornness. Lord,

please help me. Help us. This was hardly the time to complain.So much was happening, and safety was paramount. Stellamoved toward the fencing where it led away from the trainterminal outside the Crossover Complex and continued tomark out the boundary of the former military complex.

Thankful to be out of immediate danger now, she onlywanted to reunite with Sharon. But the reinforced barbedwires grew taller between them as she walked its perimeter,rising over six feet high until she completely left the vicinityof the Crossover Complex.

The breadth of the distance between her and Sharon wasbarely ten steps, were the fencing not there. Stella sawSharon clearly, but the barbed wires separating them plusthe hilly ascend were too high to climb.

The taut wires were too thick to pull apart with barehands. The smell of burned rubber, mixed with moist grass,stained the air. Tension-ridden screams yet emanated from


the train platform far behind. She desperately wished shecould help them, but she needed to secure Sharon’s safety, soshe prayed for them. Stella cast a quick glance back, one lastlook at the building that stubbornly stood ten floors highagainst the sunny sky. Its glass-surround shone brilliantlyagainst the still-rising sunlight—as it always did this timeof day.

Crossover Complex appeared unaffected by the calamityoccurring in and around it. Upon turning, Stella watchedSharon crane her neck in the opposite direction toward aroad, like she was listening for something. Sharon now stoodclose to a bus terminal. She was actually reading the pastedsheet for the bus arrival times. Stella shook off the imagery ofa secured penitentiary the barbed wires between themprojected. Too bad she hadn’t driven them by car to workinstead.

She walked into the sun’s full glare, searching for a waythrough the barbed wires. Didn’t there used to be a gate heresomewhere? She could not recall beyond the confusion nowwarping her mind. A guttural scream from afar had her spin-ning. Someone opened a window and jumped off the sixthfloor, despite yells from others on the lawn not to do so.Someone else tried to grasp the falling person but stumbledand fell back inside the building. The individual who felllooked like a man.

Stella gasped as he made contact with the ground and laylifeless. Her heart broke. What fear drove a man to go that

28 JOY OHAGWU

way rather than hope for rescue? Her heart went to Sharon,and she chose to secure her daughter before things gotworse. Except, she didn’t see her now. She eyed the length ofthe road. Other people walked about with their panic palpa-ble. But there was no sign of her. Where was Sharon? Fearwas killing more persons than the disaster itself. She couldn’trisk leaving Sharon alone here.

Jamisone Military Complex spread along the right side ofCrossover Complex, empty of people and untouched fromwhat Stella saw. People were rushing downhill toward thesmall facility of two floors. She’d heard it was typically usedfor winter trainings only.

Stella whisked around again. This time, she spottedSharon who now raced uphill farther away from the barbedwires—and from her. High Forest Drive, private to visitors ofthe Jamisone and Crossover Complexes, was a lonely two-lane road with little tree cover. It led toward the mining areaof White Oak, where there were no residences of any kind.The complex’s seclusion and the privacy it offered was partof its property leasing appeal.

Researchers cherished its quietness. Companies andcorporations stored IT equipment at the two lowest floors,and the hospital rented the third and fifth floors for researchlabs. Because this was a developing area, she feared it mighttake a while before anyone knew something bad hadoccurred. Especially with the communication tower sunk


into the ground and black smoke reaching skyward fromwhere it once stood a few feet ahead.

Stella shook her head and swept an arm to her hip.Sharon raced downhill toward her and stopped about tenpaces on the other side of the fencing. Behind her, the Cross-over Complex’s fire alarm kicked in, wailed, and then died offin less than ten seconds. Surely not a good sign.

Their eyes met, and Sharon pointed up the road. ButStella saw nothing else out of the ordinary and inched up aquestioning brow.

“Mom, make sure you make the bus!” Her first set ofwords to Stella since they left the Crossover Complex, andsecond since the day broke. Sharon’s eyes darted up the road,and Stella nodded, still not sure how to cross the barbedwires. Several tagged warnings against climbing them madematters worse. Certain parts appeared stretched, but fromthe looks of it, no gaps could fit a duffel bag let alone agrown-up human being. Sharon spun her back to Stella andran toward the road, and to the bus stop, pinning her gazeleftward as she ran.

“Sharon Elizabeth!” Stella called as panic gripped herinsides. Separation from Sharon was not an option. Nomatter what, they’d stay together. That was how they’dalways survived. A portion of the fence disappeared into acorner by the right ahead. Stella ran toward it. Maybe it ledto an opening or gate, though she only knew of the main gate—miles off. If she went through there, the bus would be long

30 JOY OHAGWU

gone before she got around to the stop. She simply needed aspace to crawl through. Anything.

Panting and out of breath, she paused at the turn, about aquarter of a mile from where she parted with Sharon. Thebus stop was no longer visible. But clearly, she’d miscalcu-lated. There was no gate. No opening. No gaps. Instead, shenow faced a solid concrete wall, one she could never scale inher five-foot-seven frame. The wall towered and grew as itcrawled into the distance. But she knew where it ended—atthe main gate.

Dismay hit her gut with a thud. She couldn’t go back toCrossover. She could only move forward and hope to catchthat bus. But her chances grew slimmer by the minute. Shesealed off her mind to everything and everyone around herand took off running. The gate was all she could visualizewhich was far away from her—one and half miles to beexact. She’d seen others run it, but preferred the privacy of agym or her home. Today, she had no choice. Run, or miss thebus. Thankfully, in anticipation of packing, she’d worn flatfall boots, not her casual black shoes or high heels.

Rumor had it that pedestrians poked holes into the fence,holes large enough for human passage. She’d banked onspotting one, but one mile in and she’d seen none. Two widespaces she saw had been plugged and sealed with iron plates.

Her heart cried out. Why, Lord? Surely, she’d missed thebus by now. If its arrival took this long, Sharon wouldn’t havebeen anxious. Had Sharon made the bus? She wasn’t even


sure where it headed. She staggered on her feet and paused,bending over to catch her breath. Realization hit her as towhat the consequences of that would mean, springing tearsto her eyes.

The main gate was still about half a mile away, leavingher another one and a half miles on the other side to getback to the bus stop. She bent over as sobs racked her body.She covered her face with her elbow.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” A man in black suit, his blue tiedangling over her face, hunkered near her, concern etchedon his expression.

Stella nodded then straightened and eyed a cell phonelodged in his hand. “Is there cell service?”

He pressed both hands firmly against his hips, straight-ening too. “Nope. It went down. I’m holding this in case…”He trailed off as his eyes roamed the distance. Heappeared okay.

“Thanks, but I’ll be on my way.”He acknowledged her statement with a nod. But his eyes

wore a curious gaze, and Stella knew why. Others headed tothe military complex for safety, while she raced the oppositedirection to the gate. She couldn’t stay to explain. He bowedslightly and followed the others as she picked up runningtoward the gate, more eager than before. She held onto fainthope that for some reason, Sharon made the bus. Or waitedbehind.

The bus stop was deserted when Stella turned a corner to

32 JOY OHAGWU

it, the brilliant sun searing her back. A redhead bent near thesupport pillar but wore a blue dress. “Sharon!” Stella tappedthe person on the shoulder, and she rose quickly. It wasn’tSharon. “Sorry.” Stella’s whisper rang clear with disap-pointment.

A man in black suit, black curly hair held in a ponytail,roamed near the road, clutching a newspaper. A lady inbright green pants, red sneakers, and a biker-gang leatherjacket bore a backpack and sat on the ground, sobbingquietly as her shoulders heaved.

None were Sharon. Just like that, Sharon was gone.Despair wrapped a tighter grip around Stella. Her only childwas missing. In the midst of a catastrophic event. With nomeans of communication. Questions swirled and caused herhead to spin. Why did Sharon get on board when Stellahadn’t caught up? Where was the bus headed? Her headthrobbed, threatening to burst any minute. The wrenchingclarity of loss twisted her heart like a knife, cutting deep andleaving emptiness in its wake.

Like a movie, Sharon’s life played through her mind. Allseventeen years. Starting with the first time Stella held herafter she was born. She was tiny, but cried with full lungs.Tears of joy had followed. Then when Scott died, and theyboth mourned his loss. Sharon was only eight. The crayonart they’d draw for her school art projects, armed with glitterpens, marker tape, and lots of love were some of Stella’sfondest memories. Their cookie-baking sessions too. Then


one day she’d returned from school and rejected faith inChrist. All so vivid Stella felt like she relived it.

She shuddered now at the memory of when everythingcrumbled. Sharon had returned from school, made her argu-ments, and pitted her stance firmly against faith in Christ.

When Sharon’s angry tirade ended and her cheeks hadturned bright pink, she stalked off to her room leaving hermom stunned, heartbroken, and dizzy. With shaky knees,Stella had risen from where she’d been watching the eveningnews, zombie-walked into her bedroom, and cried untildaybreak. She feared that her beloved daughter was gone,but she also knew faith wasn’t an imposition. Faith in Christwas a beautiful experience your loved ones needed to accepton their own.

The next day, their routine changed, and the nightmarebegan. Sharon sat across the breakfast table, her fiery-redhair in a ponytail that Stella had put it in the prior morning.She aggressively chewed bacon from her breakfast plate, butnever looked up once. She didn’t say her usual, “Mom, I likeit.” She refused a hug at the door as she left for school, as wastheir custom.

Instead, as little Sharon turned to face Stella, an icy smilefroze her brown eyes like Antarctica. Even for an eight-year-old, that was a quick transition. Emotionally, she’d lockedStella out. Stella wondered how long the unbelief had beenbrewing. As Sharon’s eighteenth birthday approached, Stellagrew more restless and pleaded. Please, Jesus, my fragile heart

34 JOY OHAGWU

can’t take this deadness any longer. Please intervene and save my

daughter’s soul.…Had Stella been so buried in her struggle to provide for

them, that she’d lost her intuition about Sharon’s spirituallife? Was that seed always there or did the information fromher school birth it or grow it? What made her believe herschool, over her mom who loved her? Why was it so hard toget her to see the truth? Was there hope she’d ever believe inChrist again? By the way, where was Sharon?

“Jesus!” Her knees sunk into the ground, meeting visible,dusty tire tracks striped across the black-tarred road. Thedeparted bus’s tire tracks. Her hands collected the dust asthey glided over the roughness. Stella shut her eyes, willingaway the anguish burning into her bones. Nothing elsemattered. Not the flipping ground. Nor the catastrophe. Onlyone need drove her now. She rose on trembling knees withfierce determination, tears streaming down her cheeks. Lord

Jesus, keep Sharon safe. And please lead me to her. She brushedoff the tears with dusty hands, streaking dirt on her cheeks.Whatever it takes…


E

4

ight. Nine. And Ten. That was it. One more push-upcould send cramps shooting down his legs. Todaywas Michael Huddleston’s rest day—a much

needed one. And he intended to do just that, rest. A hard patdown his right shoulder from behind sent him jostling tohis feet.

“Oh.” His shoulder slumped when he recognized who itwas and turned to finish stretching his legs.

“Can we go there?”The kid was relentless. This was the umpteenth time he

asked. First was this morning as soon as he saw Michael. Thesun hadn’t even risen. Michael didn’t want to hurt his feel-ings so he’d said he would think about his request. But now,

he knew for sure the answer was no. Michael slightly benthis six-foot frame to meet the eye of the teen who was nomore than fourteen years old. He still couldn’t imagine whatbrought the boy and his mom to this place.

“I don’t think so.”The kid got in his face and armed his with a pout. He

wasn’t giving up.“Why?” A stubborn frown curved his lips.Michael sighed. He wished he could help the kid. He was

simply too sore. “Because today, I’m resting.” Michael knewadmiration for his muscular arms drew the boy to wanthis own.

Hoping his refusal would send the teen back to his mom,whom he only met yesterday upon their arrival to Nature’sReserve, he took steps toward the cutout area. Cutouts, asthey termed them, were living spaces on the reserve. Theywere exactly what they were called, a cutout of small spacejust enough for one person to live in. His cutout wasn’t toofar ahead.

He shook his head as the boy still followed, wonderingwhy he himself was at Nature’s Reserve.

What was Luke thinking? Sending Michael out here inthe middle of nowhere. For…what did he call it again? “Spiri-tual revival.” That was the term he’d used. A rough hilltopreserve with no modern amenities, surrounded by jaggedrocks. One tap supplied water. There was no running shower.It offered solitude instead, plenty of it. “Just you, God, and


nature,” Luke had announced. With excitement lighting hiseyes and a shove of tickets for paid reservation, his friendtalked him into coming here.

Being the assistant pastor of Grace Family Church, Lukehad the heart of an angel despite his tough looks and amuscular frame only body builders typically boasted of.Luke had endured rejection from his rich mayoral familyupon accepting Christ and chose to enter full-time ministry.A kind soul, Luke couldn’t have made a better pastor. Hecame as close as a best friend could come to Michael. But asMichael knew, he couldn’t have any best friends or closefriends. If he did, his life could be in danger.

Now, Michael was starting to think that Luke exaggeratedhis experience on this hill two months ago, even thoughMichael had seen some positive changes in him. This roughterrain was much rougher.

Leaving an urban city like Columbia, Maryland for aretreat on a hill with sparse accommodations at White Oak,wasn’t exactly appealing. Sure, Michael had grown up nearDetroit’s hood, but something about this place just didn’t sitright. He subtly searched his heart. Did his impatience withGod or love for comfort sour him to the reserve? Hewasn’t sure.

When the tap water didn’t run as scheduled earlieryesterday and he had to endure thirst for two hours, Michaelhad had it. Enough with scarce living. He’d known it all toowell growing up. He wouldn’t spend another full week here.

38 JOY OHAGWU

He’d give it a few more days, and if he saw no new revelationfrom God on why he had to seek Him here of all places, itwas back to civilization.

A repeat tug on his shirt made him turn.“Please?” the teen begged. “I know you don’t want to, but

I want to go down that hill.”Michael frowned. This kid was unshakeable. Ever since

he returned from his jog yesterday and met the boy, the kidwas fascinated and follow him everywhere. “Use the road.”

The kid shook his head, and his dark curls bounced overhis shoulder. “I want to go down your way.”

The dangerous way, he meant. Michael huffed. As long ashe didn’t have to do anything, he could take the kid, if only toensure he got safely down the hill and back to his mom. He’dnever forgive himself if the child got injured because hewasn’t there.

Rock climbing was their weekend fun activity thatMichael enjoyed with his dad long ago when he was a littleolder than this kid’s age. The memory brought a surge ofemotion, but he quickly stemmed it and focused on the teen.

Thankfully, the kid asked for a small climb and wasclearly too scared to go down Ruthless rock. And even if he’dasked, Michael would give an emphatic no. Ruthless wasdangerous and not for a nonprofessional to trot—upward ordown. Why did he even carve climb paths through that rock?His second instance now—and as far as he was concerned,


S

his last one—at Nature’s Reserve. Were the injuries hesuffered from football as a youth not enough?

But Michael knew. Deep inside, working as the musicdirector for Grace Family Church was not where his journeystarted. No matter how far he ran, it still beckoned. In littleways, and in small signs, the rugged life that made him aname to fear on Detroit’s streets before his Christian conver-sion leaked from the polished façade he now showed theworld. He was saved—true. But he was wild still. With weari-ness and sore muscles protesting, he rubbed his shaved baldhead. “Okay. But you will stick to my rules.”

tella lost track of time, sitting at the bus stop, as noonpassed and the sun set behind her. She’d already

waited for hours. The wheels spun in her mind as shecontemplated how best to locate Sharon. Survivors’ wordsfiltered out to her absent mind in undecipherable voices, asdeclining temperatures wrapped chilly arms around hershivering body.

The purple sweater she’d worn beneath the jacket shegave Sharon became the warmest barrier between her andthe coming cold. Early October in White Oak wasn’t typicallytoo cold. It cooled only at nights, like this one.

The setting sun’s orange glow matched her fallen energylevel and raised her awareness of being stranded. Things

40 JOY OHAGWU

were bad, but she was still grateful. At least she and Sharonhad made it out alive. Many didn’t. That gave her a mixtureof sadness for their loss and gratitude to be alive. Hopefully,so was Sharon.

Searching for her was far better than mourning her loss—by a wide margin. She’d stood at the last place she’d seenSharon before she disappeared and racked her brain forwhere the bus might have been headed. Studying the paperroute map pasted inside the sheltered stand, showed fourbuses usually serviced this route after the time Sharon’s busleft. Considering this wasn’t a major stop, four or five missedbuses might not have raised questions at the central station.Though she hoped it did. People needed help out here andfast too.

Stella threw her head back in rising frustration. A gentlebreeze sent more shivers down her arms, and she rubbedthem for warmth. None of the people she saw were anyoneshe knew. Not that she’d had time in her busy schedule toacquaint with others. Near her, people still tried to makeoutbound calls. To no avail. Nothing functioned as it should.

One lady stooped to pick a careless flyer from near herfeet. She used it to pad her seat on the ground. Anothergazed up at the sky, as though she expected it to fall too. Aman close to the road was overly cautious where he stepped.She couldn’t blame them. With the ground flipping up andcaving deep at random, nothing remained predictable. Stella


Q

admitted to herself that she was scared. For herself, forSharon, and for people of White Oak.

A man with gray hair and respectable personalityapproached. A group of about ten followed him. He pointedto them and observed Stella. “We’re headed to the militarycomplex for shelter. You should come.”

She wasn’t going. The only safe space in the militarycomplex would likely be underground. As things were, shewasn’t looking to go any deeper than the flat ground shestood on. But it was getting darker, colder, and she couldn’tstay at the bus stop much longer. She twisted to face him. “Ican’t, but thanks for the offer. I’m searching for mydaughter.”

He nodded as his group took to the path she’d run to gethere. More people joined the group, leaving scarcely anyoneby the roadside. She had to take a decision and act on it soon.But if she left, where could she go? A wisp of slow breathescaped her lips as she rose, lost in thought, eyes scanningthe darkening horizon. Where are you, Sharon?

uestions nagged at Stella, and she bit her lip whilepacing the darkened road. Did Sharon get on thatbus alone because she was escaping the catastro-

phe, or her? Maybe it was a bit of both, but Stella chose not todwell on the possible answer. A parent shouldn’t stop loving

42 JOY OHAGWU

their child simply because their love wasn’t reciprocated. Shewas certain of one thing. Life was hard, but when Sharonlearned that lesson, she’d be there to help her navigate it,whether appreciated or not.

The past hour she’d prayed and hoped desperately thatSharon was safe.

Make sure you don’t miss the bus!Her last warning rang in Stella’s soul like a ceaseless

anthem. She longed for a way to know Sharon was fine andnot in danger. She’d asked a number of people uponreaching the bus stop. None had seen her or anyone resem-bling Sharon. Where was she? Was she searching for Stella?Would she?

Stella swallowed the bitter acknowledgment of uncer-tainty. If only things were different, and their relationshipwas healthy. Nevertheless, bad rapport or not, she andSharon were family. And family never abandoned eachother. The longer she considered it, the more certain shegrew. Sharon would not intentionally abandon her, nor viceversa.

A man coasted around the road. His wrinkled blue shirtwas torn at the side, and a brown stain ran across the middle.He appeared young. Young and in shock.

He stopped in front of her, bewilderment written on hisface. “I work at a nonprofit on the fourth floor of Crossover.We were having a meeting one second. All chill, then thenext thing the ground flew up then disappeared beneath


outside. I thought I was dreaming, but when I heard thescreams, I knew it was for real. We ran down the stairs to find—” He choked, and his face reddened and contorted.

Stella patted his arm lightly then withdrew, wonderingwhat he was still doing out on the road. Almost everyone hadheaded to the military complex. Her thoughts stayed onSharon while inside she fought to keep fear at bay. But theharder she fought for calm, the more scared she grew for herdaughter.

The young man walked away, going back the directionhe’d come, his black shoes now a dusty brown. It was as ifthey’d both shared a silent understanding. Words were notenough to communicate their pain.

Was anyone coming? Would help arrive? If so, when? Shecouldn’t stay waiting or bemoaning her fate. There had to besomething practical she could do to find Sharon. Think.

There were only a couple of places Sharon mighthave gone.

First, her former high school, Beaumont High, whereshe’d graduated from this past spring. But it was too far—and at the other side of town. Their home in Pleasant wascloser to White Oak, but was also too far under the circum-stances. That only left Montgomery Park. It was near enoughfor her to reach by bus from Crossover, but without trekking.She usually went there when she wanted to be alone orwhenever they had a falling out.

Sharon loved nature, so if Stella was to start looking

44 JOY OHAGWU

anywhere, it would be Montgomery Park. Though small andrecently sealed off for renovation, a nice area went uphillcovered by evergreen trees. Even if Sharon’s bus didn’t go far,she could seek temporary shelter at the park. So Stella choseto search there first. A strong smell, like cooking gas, crossedher nostrils but soon blew away.

How could she reach the park when it was too far to trekto? Her earlier run was enough stress on her knees. Plus, shewas hungry. She’d had no food or water since before thequake occurred earlier today.

Right now, she operated on sheer will and love for herdaughter. She lowered her head for a quiet prayer. Stellaprayed for those who were injured and needed help, forherself, and for Sharon. If one person here could reach theoutside world, it could bring help. But the emotional, physi-cal, and psychological overload of the past few hours tiredher. Especially when she feared the ground could yet giveway again.

The thought made her shrink back from the road whereshe’d been pacing. If only a bus would come, she could hopon and make it to the park. But what if she found a way to getto the park and Sharon wasn’t there? What then? It would betoo dark to continue searching. She sucked in her lower lip—a nervous habit—and refused to entertain the thought. Theonly way to travel this journey of uncertainty was holdingstrong to the shield of faith.

Just then, a rickety vehicle creaking closer on the road


reached her ears. She walked into the road and stood at themiddle. It had the croaky sound of an overworked engine.Something was coming. Soon, the shape of a minivan formedand drew closer. It traveled at a slow pace. But it was moving.A sigh escaped her lips just as a smile took over. Thank You,Lord Jesus.

46 JOY OHAGWU

S

5

tella was parched, hungry, and tired. But she wasinside the van as it made a U-turn and began areturn spin. It had taken everything in her to get in

the van though. Bathing in its headlights initially broughthope. Two people who had remained at the bus stop werescared to climb in. But she had only to think of Sharon togain courage.

Stella had taught Sharon not to get into a vehicle withstrangers, and here she was doing so. What if they wererobbers? Or rapists? Or murderers? She shifted, feelingnervous in a van with three males at night, but as far as shewas concerned, her daughter’s safety trumped hers. This was

an emergency. And she had sized up the situation beforestepping foot inside it.

The man at the back was sleeping and appeared drunk.The one in the middle row bore heavy reddened eyelids anda cut on his forehead. Injured, he looked ready to pass out.The only alert person was the driver. A picture of him, a lady,and two kids hung above the dash. He’d given her bottledwater as soon as she’d asked after he’d courteously comearound to open the door for her.

She doubted he’d hurt her. Plus, he’d limped on his leftleg when he came around to help give the door a tug to lether in. If he tried anything, she’d kick his bad leg first. Andshe was praying too. So far, so good.

She finished the water, grateful to soothe her parchedtongue. Her belly growled in response. Hunger pangs hit herafresh, and she turned to the driver. “You got any food?”

He eyed her from the rearview mirror and shrugged. “Agranola bar is nothing really. I—”

She jumped at it. “Thank you.”Their gazes held. And she sensed a protest coming.“I meant, I was hoping to—”But Stella was ravenous. “I appreciate it.”With her wish pressed firmly on him, he reluctantly

yielded it. “Here.”She tore through the wrapper fast, ground each bite only

twice before swallowing, and washed it down with anotherbottle of water that he gave her in less than five minutes.

48 JOY OHAGWU

Barely satisfied but fed, she corked the empty bottle,threw her head back on the headrest, and closed her eyes.She tried to gather her thoughts—she hadn’t asked a neces-sary question! She leaned forward. “Excuse me, where areyou headed?”

The driver peered at her from beneath dark lashes. Hishead was bald at the center with black hair surrounding it.“Question is: where are you going?”

Well, she had no definite answer. But the temporary onewould suffice. “Montgomery Park.”

Something crossed the driver’s face too quick for her tobe sure what she saw. The inside of the vehicle was dark too,so maybe she’d seen a shadow. She sank back into her seat asthe van trudged along the lonely road. Would Sharon be atMontgomery Park. If she wasn’t, where could Stella look?One place at a time, she cautioned herself. She had to havefaith not doubt.

The van smelled stale. Like someone had slept in it onetoo many times. Used juice straws poked between the brown-cloth seat in front and its seatbelt hinge. An empty engine oilcan lay near her feet, and she kicked it under.

Stella lifted her tired feet and placed them on the back ofthe forward facing seat, hoping to ease the pain radiatingaround the balls of her feet. To say this had been a long daywas an understatement. It hadn’t started out well. It hadn’tended yet either. She wasn’t going to speculate about how itwould end at all. Prayer was her only recourse.


The van curved a bend and made a turn with no othervehicle in sight. She knew that ten miles out, there was a gasstation with a convenience store. Before there, was a runningtrail. Otherwise, nothing existed in this developing area.There were plans to make a state-of-the-art shopping mall.The Crossover Complex was to be the first of many. But whoknew what would become of those plans after today? Espe-cially with the lack of emergency assistance for nine hours ormore now.

Her father once said you never left anything valuable inthe middle of nowhere. At the time, he referenced the schoolbag she usually tossed in the living room and made a beelinefor the kitchen right from the door. Now, the same couldapply here.

Stella’s thoughts went to her sisters. Three of them, livingin far-flung places. Only April, third born, lived within thestate, but she was too busy. Would she even know somethinghad happened? Granted, they weren’t close—none of themwere. But still they were sisters, and help was help.

Darkness enveloped the van as they drove further, its dimheadlights the only shining glow, but Stella remainedunafraid. The burning desire to be reunited with Sharongave her more warmth than the dark night or the cold chillscould steal from her.

The drunken man groaned awake. The driver pressed abutton, and a small light illuminated the interior from hisdash. Their eyes met via the mirror, and Stella nodded in

50 JOY OHAGWU

gratitude. He was trying to keep her safe. The drunken mangrunted in protest, his full beard swaying as he tried tostraighten on his seat. But no one paid him any attention.The third man was seriously snoring.

Thank You, Lord, for my safety.A couple of speed bumps and rough patches later, the

driver finally asked the looming question. “What happenedback there?” He peered at her from the rearview mirroragain.

She shrugged. How could she explain what she saw? “Anearthquake. You know, it’s tough to explain really.”

He was silent at first. Then he nodded absent-mindedly acouple of times. “I’ll get you to Montgomery Park. Then I willsee if I can find help for them people.”

For those left behind.Stella observed the sides of the road. The air suddenly

got thicker, and the weather warmed up—just like at thecomplex. That couldn’t be good. Queasiness grew in herbelly again. They had slowly traveled maybe five miles now.The park couldn’t be too far now. But it was too dark to figureout which way the road led.

All she saw was ahead, and it was dark until somethingshone against the headlights. Something like a flag waved upin the distance, at the center of the road. “Watch out!”

But it proved too late as the driver’s drooping eyes trailedher fingers to the road’s jagged, sudden end. The front tiresscreeched. A poof busted a tire, then another—not from


nails or such, but by the road itself. The driver swerved thesteering wheel, spinning it, sweating as the van twisted a bit.A break in the hard tar suggested it melted after a hot unex-pected split, and then hardened into torn edges, too rough todrive over.

The van slipped to a halt at the tarred edge. It appearedsomeone had placed a warning, a yellow flag, but they’d seenit too late. It wasn’t really a flag, but a yellow Bazaar Festivalshirt stuck on a stick slanting sideways. But no one wasaround.

A glow from way off helped by the van’s headlights high-lighted the park entrance. Her destination. But the otherstravelers? She turned to the driver standing behind her, keysin hand.

He shrugged as though he knew. “I’m going to continue.This wasn’t here when I came around the first time. Whendid this…?” He waved his hand in a circle and huffed as hebrushed his scant head of hair with a hand. “Now I’m justtrying to get home. I’ll go around by the bushes.”

Stella heard the fear laced in his tone and felt sorry forhim. He was scared. And so was she. What was causing thisphenomenon? “But you’ve got two done tires. How doyou move?”

And as she’d noticed from the corner of her eye, his gasmeter had dropped below a quarter tank. What would he dowhen it ran empty?

The drunken man, now fully awake, exited and stood

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with them outside. He leveled his gaze on her, and his foulbreath sent caution racing down her spine.

She’d felt safer when he snored. Stella decided, shewould not be stuck in that vehicle alone with him for anyreason. If the driver continued, nothing but trees stretchedbetween the park and the convenience store. This was WhiteOak, and everybody knew nothing was close by. If youneeded something, you drove to go get it. Should she gowith them?

With busted tires, he might not even get another mile outof the van. A van so used up that a clanking sound hadbegun as he accelerated for the last uphill.

She’d feared it would pack up at the tip, but the ricketynavy-blue van made it over the brink to her relief. But now,any stoppage less than five more miles would leave themstuck, surrounded by darkness, out in the middle ofnowhere. And no telling what the road ahead might looklike. Things could get worse. No cars were coming in theopposite direction.

Did the road split again ahead without a way around it?Had Sharon’s bus traveled this route? Did she get somewheresafe? Only one way to find out.

Thanking the driver for the ride, she walked around theunaffected bushy edge of the road, glad that her sweatershielded her arms from scratches. She strode forward andentered Montgomery Park, ignoring the yellow caution taperoped around the entrance.


T hinking about Sharon put more energy into her stepsthan she thought she had. Stella wrapped a hand

around her body, thankful for the spaced lighting yet aroundthe park between the trees. There were pockets of darkness,which she avoided, but enough light to see on the pedestriantrail.

Too bad she didn’t at least have a flashlight. Or morewater as her throat went dry again. A few critters scamperedacross her path. She stopped to let them through the emptytrail whenever she heard something approaching. If the parkhad been in an occupied neighborhood, she might havechanced on a homeless person or two huddled on a concretebench, as she was accustomed to seeing in parks at Pleasant.Not here. Her audiences were small animals, but she feltcomfortable enough to pray aloud to ward off anxiety.

An hour later, unfamiliar squeals from a dark tree clusterby the right pierced her ears. Stella ducked to the left only tomeet croaks from a small pond as she traveled deeper intothe woods. She held her breath wondering what it could be,then swung right on the path again as her knees threatenedto crumble. She shuddered as chills laced her skin, and shehoped she wouldn’t catch pneumonia.

“Sharon! Sharon!” she cried, as she had done everyseveral steps. Only echoes of darkness answered. She

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trudged on, cold, tired, hungry, frustrated, and weary tothe bone.

Her hope of finding Sharon was fading fast. If Sharonwasn’t here, where was she? She hit an end to the main trailwhen it split into two smaller trails. She veered off to the onethat appeared more used on the right bearing worn tracks,since both had sparse lighting.

With less tree cover, the moonlight overhead compen-sated for the little lighting. One hour later, her toe stubbedsomething, and she stumbled on a fallen tree branch. Handsflailing to right her fall and head dizzying, she finally agreedwith her body—she couldn’t take one more step.

Just ahead, in a wash of moonlight, stood a concretebench. After trudging up the slight slope, she climbed into itwith hands and knees shaking. Curled into its cold confines,Stella wrapped herself in the fetal position. Not long, sleepovertook her.

othing compared to the relief of warm sunlightbathing her skin as it wooed her awake. Its soothing

warmth chased away the fitful sleep filled with nightmares ofSharon being chased by a bear and yelling Mommy.

Stella tried to pry her feet over the ground, but her anklesfelt laden with chains. Aches radiated all over her body.Head throbbing, she forced herself into a sitting position and


surveyed her surroundings—bark-lined trails woundmultiple ways around where she’d slept.

Her head swayed a little. She gripped the bench, wishingfor the comfort of home. Her three-bedroom home in Pleas-ant’s suburb was far better than a block of concrete for a bed.

She knew one thing. She was lost. She couldn’t trace herway back to the park entrance if she tried.

Surely, there was a way out of the park. Her hair stoodout on ends as she rose to her feet, and at once, it felt likepins and needles were piercing her soles. She pressed a stabi-lizing hand on her knee for a moment. Then she straight-ened and blinked away the brightness of the sunlightbearing down on her face. She looked around her, shieldingher eyes with a hand.

Lord, please show me the way out of here, in Jesus’ name. Herthroat choked. How many times had she called on the Lordsince? She could count on her fingers that she’d prayed twiceand worried a thousand times. Maybe she could try adifferent strategy. But only after offering one more prayer.Please keep Sharon safe, wherever she might be. She startedsinging praises to God with cracked lips and a hopeful heart.

Praise welled from deep within even as she gritted herteeth against the pain multiplying in her ankle. She hadstayed active, worked out regularly, and hiked a lot—untilher knee gave way two years ago. Now, she stuck with simplewalks at the park near her home. Anything more led toswelling on her ankles. In the past twenty-four hours, she’d

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walked way more than three days’ worth of exercise puttogether.

She chose a graveled path similar to the one she’d beenon the previous night and continued on it. The path splitseveral ways again. Stella sucked in her lower lip, lost inthought. Which one did she take? Each looked as promisingas the next, all four. Where did they lead? But there was notime to ponder. She randomly chose the middle one, and hershoes crunched on pebbles as she walked.

One hour later, crossing between two trees, a hiss andsomething slithering on the ground beneath grasses haltedher. She quickened her pace when it was gone. The path nowcontinued uphill, much to the chagrin of her knees.Greenery surrounded her. Beautiful tree-covered hilltops farin the distance dotted the blue skyline. But soon, huge treetrunks appearing at least decades old blocked the view. Sheswiped beads of sweat off her forehead as her exhaustionand anxiety grew. She figured she must have walked anotherhour or more. She’d resisted the urge to look through trashbins on her way to scavenge for water. She hadn’t seen anyfunctioning water fountain either. Could be part of whatthey were renovating.

Her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth in desperatethirst as her belly grumbled. I come second. She assuredherself. Sharon was her priority. Maybe they should’veagreed on a designated meeting place in case of an emer-


gency before now. But, it was no use dwelling on what shouldhave been.

The widening of the tree cover, increased shrubbery, andbroadening landscape told her she was coming to a clearing.She emerged to the full sunlight glare and blinked to adjust.The trees had ended. But it wasn’t the clearing that had hergasping for breath and clutching her sweater in desperation.Nothing prepared her for the indomitable mass obstructingher path.

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6

he whisked around, wishing to beat a retreat, but itwasn’t an option. She faced it again. A rugged brownmass of rock, standing at almost 90 degrees from the

ground, several feet high blocked her path. The nearer shecame, the more she realized—there was no seeing what wasbehind it. Or around it. It dominated the width of her vision.

She rested a hand on her hip as the sun’s searing heatalmost scalded her skin. The time was probably eleven in themorning. She had no sunscreen, water, or food. And nomeans to reach either. Her daughter was lost, and she had noidea how to find her. She was in a park closed for renovation,with no one around except wildlife. And now, she had to

climb a rock that stood straight? Frustration clouded outevery ounce of hope she’d harbored.

Had someone ever been here? Had anyone ever stood atthe spot where she now did? Exasperation swept throughher. Even if she made it to the top of this rock—which shestrongly doubted that she could—was there anything to seeup there except more trees? What was beyond this?

Climb.

She heard it as surely as she could hear someone say itnext to her. How? She beckoned the Voice for an answer, ananswer she knew wasn’t coming. God wanted her to climb.All she had to do was obey, or not. Her choice. One thing wasclear—if she didn’t do something, passing out was nearing.Her head now throbbed hard with a migraine. She pressedher forehead to the rock’s hard, cold surface, and her heartsaid the words her mouth wouldn’t dare. I can’t do this, Lord. I

wish there was another way, but if not…Help me out here.

“All right then,” she muttered and lifted a hand to feel therock’s craggy exterior. Then she saw it. So small you couldalmost miss it. A cross carved into a low foothold. She knewthe foothold could support her weight if she was gentle. Soshe tried, clutching the sides hard. Climbing a massive rockfor an occasional hiker was like jumping into an oceanbecause you swam in a pool. Both scenarios were overtaxedand underqualified.

“But God said climb,” she quipped under her breath.How was she even sure it was God who had spoken? For all it

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was worth, it could be hallucination from hunger, thirst, andexhaustion setting in and messing with her mind. But sheused her hand and propelled herself higher, both feet off theground now, and let out a grunt.

Another chalk-marked-cross carving met her gaze.She smiled as she planted her feet on it and gripped

higher for her hand. The move bounced her body onto therock’s side, but she stabilized fast enough. Her breath camein gasps, and her arms hurt already.

Keep climbing.This time she knew, God was guiding her as she pressed

her feet into the next carving. Someone had been here. Butwhy did someone make these carvings out in the middle ofnowhere? It didn’t make any sense, but she continued andswung her feet on the next one, using her purple sweatershe’d ripped off as makeshift gloves.

She’d tied both hand openings, swung it around herback, and slid her hands into them before she started. Shefelt tearing as the rough rock surface bristled against thecashmere. But if not the sweater, it could have been her skininstead so she only stayed focused on where her hands andfeet landed next.

She fought the urge to look down, knowing the movecould sway her and she could fall. From the looks of it, she’dclimbed so high that she might be halfway up. Sweat soakedher back, her chest heaved, her body almost giving up on


her. She quickened her climbing pace, and soon could seethe uppermost edge.

Thankful, she closed her eyes to catch her breath but wasscared she’d get dizzy. So she forced them open and contin-ued. Her hands quivered, and the aches in her knees weren’thurting any longer. Not a good sign to have pain reach thelevel where she no longer felt it. But she was almost at thetop. She prayed God would bless whoever made the crosscarvings. They guided her safely, and she was now reachingthe last few holds.

“Argh!” A gash through her hand by the rock said thefabric was now completely torn. She’d twisted her black hairin a bun, but stray clumps stuck to her face and neck, mattedby sweat. She let go of the damaged sweater, and momentspassed before she heard its resting thud below. Her palmstained red with blood, and it dripped down her arm. Thepain she’d sustained on her left shoulder from the jump atCrossover throbbed.

She was too high up to return, too tired and injured tokeep climbing, and too close to the top to give up. “I can doall things.” She completed the verse in her heart as her lipstrembled and begged for reprieve, through Christ who

strengthens me.

Lunging forward with all her might, she let out a gutturalcry. “Jesus!” Eyes closed, she sucked in her breath, gratefulher hand made contact, albeit barely.

One more.

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She could already see pebbles falling off the top of therock’s face blown by gentle wind. Her brows shrunk to keepthem from her eyes even as her legs went numb. The airsmelled thick with dust and clung with moist sweat comingfrom her body. One more thrust lay dauntingly ahead. Buther body grew limp, and her legs refused to move howeverhard she willed them. She had to lift herself, or she couldn’tsee the final carving and know where to rest her feet. Shepressed between lips tightened with pain from her entirebody and pushed.

Almost there.She reached her hand higher, but the muscle in her left

hand pulled and froze mid-attempt. She would miss the lasthandle if it didn’t come awake fast. If she missed the lasthold, she’d fall, many feet down.

“Argh!” She inched higher, hoping to gain a heightadvantage and use her elbow instead to reach the zenith. Butshe miscalculated her body’s ability as it fell a finger’sbreadth short. Air escaped her lungs. Stella gaped in disbe-lief as her other hand slipped sideways. She was falling, untila hard tug stopped her and her foot dangled in the air.

“I got you!”A hand clutched hers from above the rock, and the male

face and shaved head blocked the sun from her face. Was shedead already and simply dreaming? Or was this happening?The pain shooting up her wounded, bleeding, and nowtightly gripped hand kept her from passing out, or knowing


imagination from reality. Her swollen eyelids threatened toshut, but she forced them to stay open even with stingingsweat dripping into them.

If she was dreaming, then it felt too real because everypart of her was either shaking or torn. And her hand wasbleeding. She barely had strength to breathe.

“Hang on.” Strong hands twisted her arm and pulled herhigher until her head shot above the rock’s surface. Both herarms were bruised from the rough scraping.

The man grabbed both her sides underneath her armpitsand pulled her completely off the edge, flipped her around,then laid her face up against the sky. She wasn’t dreaming.The hurting breath in her lungs as she drew air in and outtold her so. Her rescuer kneeled beside her and scrambled toinspect her for more injuries. His battery of questionstumbled on themselves from afar in her mind.

He smelled of smoke, like roasted food, but it could beher mind playing tricks. His finger pressed to her neck tocheck the strength of her pulse. His eyes tracked her everymove as she turned her neck slightly to relieve stiffness. Shetrembled cold and parted her lips to speak. No words came.Was she in shock? She thought she had heard a youngervoice approaching but wasn’t sure.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, Stella managed in her heart, beforeher heavy eyelids swept helplessly shut.

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V oices afar came in waves to her ears as Stella liftedher eyes. Soft cotton hugged her skin, and she swiped

sweat off her brow. The place felt cool. A men’s sweatshirtswooshed against her skin and swallowed most of her upperbody. She was clad in jeans—also too big. She was outside.Under shady trees, but outside. Someone cleared their voicebehind. She spun, and a sharp pain inched up her neck, soshe rested again.

“She’s awake,” the young voice said.Memories came flooding back. Sharon was missing.

Stella was lost. The rock had sliced her hand. She lifted herhand to her face for an examination, but a tall shadow filledher view behind the white bandage as she raised her headhigher. Her eyes met the cool gaze of a man standing with hishands shoved in his pockets. He nodded to the youth, whotook it as a cue to leave. Then he lowered himself to her eyelevel.

Stella held his gaze.“You climbed Ruthless rock. I’m impressed.” Admiration

sparkled in his eyes, but so did the questions etched behindthem. He was well built and as rugged as the rock itself. Ascar ran along the side of his left arm, highlighting itsmuscular bulge. Parts of his bare chest appeared more light-skinned than his otherwise well-tanned skin. He swept ashirt over his head at her inquiring gaze. He was also tall.Probably over six feet.

Stella recognized him with the bald head—he was her


rescuer. “Thank you.” Two words could hardly show heroverwhelming gratitude, but it was a start. He had to knowshe meant it. “Who are you?”

His silence made her tug at the oversized sweatshirt’shem. How did she get into it? Who got her into this sweat-shirt? She eyed him.

“Clothes are mine. Paul’s mom changed them.” He’d readher unasked question.

She nodded. The young fellow returned with a cup ofwater. Stella accepted it. “Thanks.”

The young man with curly brown hair, who looked like ateen, flashed a smile. “I made Michael take me out to comedown the little rock. We came back and saw I’d lost my keys,so we went searching for them. That’s when he found you.”

Michael. Hmmm. Stella inclined her head, unsure whatthe right response should be to the news.

“That’s enough, Paul. Let the lady rest.” A pat on theyoung man’s arm by Michael when she finished drinking andleaned up, sent him returning with the cup in the directionhe came.

Three men, all armed, crossed paths with Paul andneared Stella. She steeled her spine as they halted. Onelooked gruff, the other shifted on his feet, and the third stoodquietly with crossed hands.

What was this place? Some sort of military camp? Whatlooked like a building stood off to the left side in a row. Tinroof met whitewashed walls and tiny blue windows no wider

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than a man’s shoulders and stood not much taller than a fewfeet. She counted four entrances into the small building. Ashpiled in a heap at the center, like a campfire. She subdued afrown. Unless this place was Camp Back-To-The-Stone-Age,this was nothing she’d heard of or seen.

Michael, her rescuer, came around to face the men. Theystood opposite each other in stoic glare, with Stella sand-wiched in the middle laying down. Too bad, she couldn’t getup. Not with the pain she started feeling again crawling upher left ankle.

“What do you want?” Michael bellowed, the authority inhis voice unmistakable.

It apparently shook the confidence of the lead manwhose dirty-brown moustache inched down his jaw as hefrowned. He said nothing.

Instead, he wagged a finger at Stella.Still in pain, she struggled to stand. No way she’d take

this lying down. Clearly, a standoff was about to ensue, oneshe wanted nothing to do with but was a possible subject of.

Michael stood his ground. His face clean shaven, stancepoised, and his hands no longer pocketed, but balled intofists. Obviously, he was a fighter who didn’t back down. Whatkind of enigma was this man who exuded such warmth andkindness when he’d looked at her, and yet stood toughagainst these armed men?

Although Stella’s late husband, Scott, had been a warreporter and knew how to shoot, he never brought any home.


Weapons were a no-no in their home, and she preferred itthat way for their daughter’s sake. Now, she was confrontedby three armed men.

One of the men, the one with unsteady feet, bent low,anxious to get on with it. “Lady, what brought you here?”

Paul emerged, with a lady in tow. The lady darted hereyes between Michael and the men. “I’m leaving. Thank youfor everything you did for us, Michael. Bye.” Her tight clutchon her backpack showed she was scared. Maybe for herselfand the boy.

Michael started to say something, and then nodded.“Take care of your mom. Be a good guy.” He was looking atthe young man, who wore a frown. Paul clearly didn’t agreewith his mom’s decision, but he nodded and gave Michael athumbs-up and Michael did the same.

Both spun, and dust followed their heels.“Looks like now I got a room to myself,” the lead man

drawled. The tension in the air rose notches higher.Stella simply wanted to go back to sleep. Her body

screamed tired, but she wasn’t going to show weakness. Notin front of these men.

“I climbed Ruthless. That’s how I came here.” She didn’tanswer their question, and they knew it. She’d simply piggy-backed on Michael’s earlier information, hoping to wardthem off.

“And so? We’re supposed to disappear now?” The lead

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man inched closer, his anger roused. He was almost as closeto the right side as Michael was to her left.

Michael didn’t flinch. “What do you want with her?”The silence grew thicker with tension and resentment.

Whatever was going on started before she got there.Stella stood by Michael’s side, wishing the situation

would abate, but the lead man gave a crooked smile. His eyesluring Michael, like he’d found a weak spot. “She leaves.”

Michael huffed. “She’s injured. Plus, she just got here.She needs a place to rest.”

“We have no room.”“Yes, we do. Paul and his mom just left. She can take

their room.”“The room’s mine now. Ain’t nobody taking nothing.”Both men glared.Stella could take the tension no longer. “I’ll go.”Michael turned, regarding her with an indiscernible look.

“How?” He eyed her swollen ankle. “Do you know where youare?” His question hit her like a dart.

No, she didn’t. She had no idea where she was, and heknew his words made a mark when she backed down.

Michael spun to the men. “She’s not leaving.”The lead man waved his gun in Stella’s face, causing her

to flinch a little. “All right then. She’ll stay with you.”


A

7

frown crossed Michael’s face. “You know that’snot okay. And the space is too small.”

The man cocked his gun and waved it atthem. “Either that or she leaves. You want her, let her staywith you. If not, I got plenty o’ ways to make her at homewith me, but she ain’t getting a room by herself.” A grinrevealed his blackened set of two front teeth, with a goldfilling further back. Clearly tobacco burns stained his teeth,and the bottom two were chipped.

Michael regarded Stella. A cross pendant etched with anarrow dangled from his neck. Was he a Christian? This washardly the time to ask.

He turned back to the armed man, fury darkening hiseyes. “Fine.”

He started to turn but stopped at the tap of the gun onthe stool where Paul had sat before she woke.

“Not so fast.”Michael pinned both hands on his waist. “Oh?”“You kiss her.”This time, Stella huffed. “Are you out of your mind? No.”The brute released the safety on his weapon, pointed it in

her face, resolute. “You’re not the one with the gun.”The other men followed. The situation turned eerie.Michael stepped in front of Stella and within a breath of

the gun’s muzzle. “Okay.”The grind of his teeth told Stella he wasn’t okay with it

at all.He spun slowly to her, and his brown eyes softened. “You

don’t have to.”Stella choked as she nodded at this man who’d just stood

between her and a gun. “It’s okay.” Michael had rescued her,clothed her, and tended her wound. Yet stood up to armedbullies. His opposite attributes both confounded and amazedher. Who might he be?

He cupped her face in his hand and looked into her eyesto gauge her readiness. She nodded, silent. He pressed hislips to hers, and she kept hers still. Within moments, theyparted. It was like nothing happened.


“W

But it convinced the armed lead man. “Good. Now, she’sall yours.”

ho are you?” Stella’s throat felt as dry as herwords. He’d provided her more cups of water,

but she still thirsted.He straightened. His weathered hands contrasted with

his smooth face, dark lashes, and perfect brows. His headwas bald. And his sports watch looked expensive. “MichaelHuddleston.”

That much Stella already knew. “I mean, what are you?”She jerked her chin toward the armed men who eyed themfrom beneath a tree a ways off.

Michael followed her gaze. “Your name?”He seemed as uneasy with their interest as she was.

“Stella. Stella Heart.”Michael kept his eyes on the armed men. “Stella, I’m

going to take you inside now. To keep you safe.” Then he mether brown eyes with his chocolate ones. “I promise on myhonor, I won’t touch you.”

Stella swallowed and nodded. “Sure. Thank you.”How could he grasp her concerns though she didn’t voice

them? It was one thing to rescue someone as a spur-of-the-moment act; it was another to dwell with them and keepyour hands to your side. That required self-discipline, lots of

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I

it. Michael seemed like a man who possessed it as heanchored her with an arm beneath her armpits and led herlimping to the building.

nside, the place was tiny, much tinnier than she thought.“It’s called a cutout.” A bed occupied the narrow strip

of space no longer than ten feet and scarcely large enough tobe categorized as a bedroom. He settled her on the bed andraised her feet as the frame squeaked with her weight. “I’llget you more drinking water. Those run out fast.”

“Thank you, Michael.” This was the first time sheaddressed him by name. She was grateful for all his help. Butshe wanted nothing more than to be out searching forSharon. Nothing else burned in her mind. It didn’t escapeher notice that this entire surrounding, as much as she’dseen of the dusty grounds and green shrubbery, dodged theearthquake.

She rested and prayed inside alone until evening time.Michael got her a sandwich for dinner then went outside fora walk. When he returned, she still held the sealed pouch ofpocket sandwich he offered but she didn’t eat. He archeda brow.

“I need to make a phone call.” Perhaps, since his people,Paul and his mom, left, he’d be on his own way soon.

He rose and scratched his bald head. “I’m not sure that’s


possible.” He turned to her as she squinted in confusion.“There are no phones here. They designed this place to haveno technology and no modern amenities. Just you, God, andnature.” The way he spat out the last phrase had herwondering why it sounded resentful. If he didn’t want to behere, then why was he?

“You could leave with your…family?” she suggested.It took a moment for the words to register. “Oh, I met

Paul and his mom here. We’re not family.” After a moment’shesitation, he added, “I’m not married. Are you?”

She had to be careful. “Not really.” She tugged open thepocket sandwich and took a bite. It was cold, but it was food.

He leaned on a stool much like the one Paul had sat onoutside. “Well, you either are or you’re not.”

Apparently he waited for an answer. “I’m a widow. It’sbeen ten years now since Scott died.”

Compassion swept through his face as he lowered hiseyes. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She smiled sadly and brought low the sandwich. “Thankyou. My late husband was a war journalist and got killed inaction. It’s always a tough loss, but God has been my supportsystem.” No need to tell him she had three sisters and theyweren’t as close as they should be. That would sour thingsmuch too soon. Plus, Sharon was her focus right now. How toget to her was her mission. She needed to keep that front andcenter.

“Are you okay?” His inquiry and the warmth of his gentle

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hand on her arm brought her back. Her thoughts must haveshown on her face.

She smiled and patted his arm, if only to assure herselfthat she would indeed see her daughter again—even as hopefaded by the moment. “Yes. Thank you. Can I rest, please?”Since she’d put more food and water in her belly, full-scaleexhaustion kicked in.

Michael rose and drew a blue blanket from a pack ofclothing on top of a black traveling box. “Of course. Hereyou go.”

She received the blanket, suddenly aware her eyesdrooped.

“I’ll go see what food I can get you when you wake.”She lay down beneath the covers as he went outside to

give her privacy. When she heard the lock slide in place fromoutside—Michael did it with her consent and for her safety—she took in the fact that she was in a strange place she’dnever heard of. And lying in a man’s bed whom she didn’tknow. Yet she thanked God she was alive and safe. At least,whenever he came back, she would hear Michael as heunlocked the doors. That gave her peace. Forcing her mindoff the armed and dangerous men just outside those doors,she persuaded herself to fall asleep.


“Soup.”The enticing aroma hit her nostrils before she

heard the word and fully rose. Shrugging back the covers,she sat up and stared at Michael. She hadn’t heard him enter.“What time is it?”

He placed the soup on the stool after drawing it closer. Itssteam rose high. “About eight a.m.”

She gasped. “I slept for that long?” That was almosttwelve hours.

He pointed at her feet when she removed the blanket.The swelling had gone down considerably. “Well, I woke youup and gave you an aspirin that you drank with canned milkat about midnight. You don’t recall?”

Stella shook her head. “No. I don’t remember at all.” Thatwas bad. What if he’d done her harm instead? She sucked inher lower lip and prayed in thanksgiving in her heart.

Michael tipped his jaw. “You’re doing that thing again.”She paused then realized he referenced her nervous act.

She released her lips and snapped her mouth shut. Sheaccepted the soup and shoveled a spoonful to cover hernerves.

“This tastes nice.” Better than nice, actually. It was thefirst bit of hot food she’d eaten since the night before thequake two days earlier. She bowed her head and said aprayer of grace as Michael stood and observed silently. Whenshe finished, a smile warmed his face in the dim interior.

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“A Christian?” Michael asked.The lady nodded. “Yeah. You?”

“Yes. I’ve received Christ, but I’m still growing in my faithevery day. I’m far from perfect, and I got a lot to learn.” Howdid he start explaining how his journey had led him here?He also didn’t think she’d understand with her polishedmanners. So, he let the short answer stand.

Stella rustled the blanket close after eating. He shouldleave. But there were housekeeping items he needed to showher so he lingered. “I’ll show you around if you feel up to it.There’s not much to see but just so you know wherethings are.”

She glanced at a narrow hallway at the end of thebedroom. “Okay.” She peeled back the covers and securedthe waist of the slipping, oversized jeans with its firm beltbuckle.

“What is this place? Why are you here?”Michael tipped his head. What could he tell her? He had

even more questions for her than she’d asked him, but hehesitated from asking. There was so much he couldn’t share.… “I was here for a personal spiritual retreat, by a friend’srecommendation.”

He watched her reaction, but the partial hoodie hidher eyes.

“And those armed men outside?” she prodded.


S

“I don’t know them. They came here the same day youdid, but earlier. They occupied the last available room andwell, sort of took over. I guess they thought threatening uswith weapons was synonymous with power. If you ask me,they seem like they could be on the run. But I’m not sure,and I hate to speculate.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’llget you another aspirin. It’s been eight hours at least.”

tella opened her mouth to protest, but he held up hishand. “If you, or I, hope to leave this place soon, you

need strength. It’s a long way down, much tougher than yourway up.”

That shut down her protest and made her scoop moresoup instead. She wasn’t going to argue with someoneaiming to help her get well.

Minutes later, he escorted her out of the bedroom. At theend of the bedroom, a short hallway led into two equallyteeny doors. Both spaces were so small Stella wondered howone person could live here, and now they were two?

She fought the threatening despair. She had no choice. Itwas either back on the rock, or in here with this man, untilher body healed.

“One is the bathroom, if you could call it that. It’s this firstdoor, and it’s got a toilet. Let me know when you’re going toneed it so I could roll down the bedroom curtains.” He

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opened the second, no bigger than a large cardboard box.The kitchen. A bucket stood at the corner, between bothrooms. Her original jeans and long-sleeve pink shirt soakedinside. A soap bar lay on the concrete floor. This was rawliving.

“How long have you been here?”Michael shrugged. “One week. I brought my own food,

which was the expectation for a place like this unless youcaught wild life. Yesterday, Paul, his mom, and I roasted wildgame he had caught two nights ago.”

No wonder he smelled like roasted food when he’drescued her. Though he smiled now with obvious recollec-tion about the fire-roasted game, Stella was almost certain hemight have left this place already if she wasn’t there. He mustknow his exit would leave her at the mercy of the threearmed men. She wasn’t going to ask whether he planned onstaying longer. At least until she was up on her feet in acouple of days, she’d let herself believe he was staying forhimself.

“Where did you sleep?”He pointed to the ground as they reentered the bedroom,

the tour now over. “There. With a spare blanket.”Her heart fell. “You slept on the ground?” It felt hard even

as she said it. But not as hard as the man who’d slept on it.What else was this man, this stranger, going to give up forher, a woman he just met? The desire to leave, to not be a


burden, overwhelmed her. “I’m leaving as soon as I feelstrong enough to. I’m sorry for all the inconvenience.”

He took her by the shoulder. “You’re no burden, Stella.You stay until you’re well enough. I’m sure we’ll both beready to go when you are.” Something told her he wasalready ready. That added more pressure to get well sooner.And then for her, there was Sharon.

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vening met them both sharing red velvet cookiesand laughter. He had a lot of packaged food andgave freely.

“No. You did not.”Michael continued with his story about his excursion to

the Grand Canyon. He shared how his backpack caught on arailing, and while trying to untangle it, he slipped. Then hisfallen feet tripped an old lady, and her son came swinging inher defense.

“It was so surreal. Here I was smarting from a fall and mylost backpack, and two people were breathing anger towardme. I tell you, it wasn’t funny then.”

“Why the Grand Canyon?”

He was silent until she thought he hadn’t heard. “I likeclimbing, but I stopped a while ago. The first day I got here,there was this urge to climb again. After I saw Ruthless, Iknew I had to defeat it. If only to keep my climbing skillssharp. My gear, climbing chalk and all, is over by the corner.”

Stella gasped. “You left those cross marks on the footholds!”

“Yes,” he quietly said. “The only reason I had gone thereyesterday was to see whether it was where Paul lost his set ofkeys. He searched the smaller rocks, and I went to searchRuthless where we’d sat earlier to rest.” He looked her in theeyes. “That’s when I heard you.”

She could hardly believe her ears. She could hardlycomprehend the miracle God had done. This man came herefor a personal retreat. But God brought him here to save herlife. Of course, she couldn’t assume that was the only reason.But nothing beat the gratitude pouring from her heart to thethrone. Thank you, God. “Michael, if you hadn’t come, if youhadn’t been there…” Her voice choked.

He rubbed his temple and staggered his long legs clad indyed black jeans. The loose brown, straight-cut short sleevepolo shirt fitted his build nicely. “Stella, speculation isn’t mything. I believe God never does anything without a reason.Whether we humans believe it or not, a divine Will is alwaysat play. Sure, I might not have been there. But I was, and Godsaved you. Let’s leave it at that, okay?” He shifted, seeminguncomfortable with gushing compliments.

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He peered in her face, and she averted her eyes to hidethe watery glaze coming over them. She was bathed in awe ofGod’s love for her. “All right, Michael.”

She stood. “I’m going outside for a walk before it goesdark. I need to stretch my legs.” She needed to stretch hermind as well. There was more to thank God for, and to prayfor. Starting with Sharon.

Stella returned two hours later, well beyond dark, to thesound of music.

“You have blessed me with such a woman…” sailed to herears from the doorway as she entered. It was Michael. Hedidn’t hear her. He was on his knees in worship.

Stella froze. She’d never heard a more magnificentsinging voice—ever. It was laced with pure talent and glidedover words with the right tunes at the perfect point. Shecame to a stop behind him, drawn by his voice.

He spun and stopped as soon as he sighted her. Hecleared his throat, averting his gaze. “Oh, I didn’t hear youenter.”

She shook her head and perched at the foot of the bed.“Your voice. It’s…” She broke off, searching for the right term.“It’s royal. Magnificent. How do you sing like that? Are you astar?” He had to be. With a voice like that, he’d make millionsif anyone heard it.

Michael smiled only a little and rose to his feet. Shecould see she’d reached a part of him he’d wanted to keep


“N

hidden. She almost regretted speaking out as she felt aprotective shell curling around him.

o biggie.” Michael shrugged. “I’m a church musicdirector. That’s my job, and I like it.” If only he

could trust her with more details… But he knew he couldn’tas he raced for the door like the ground had turned into hotcoals. “I’m going for a walk too.”

The woman’s penetrating warm gaze unnerved him. Theway stray hair teased her shoulder was filling his mind withideas he’d rather not dwell on. Her dimpled smile sent hisheart racing. And he wasn’t sure he could hold out on hermuch longer. They were staying too close, and these newfeeling were not helping. Then there was the song he’d onlycome up with after she left and he was kneeling in themiddle of worship. What was that? God couldn’t be…? Heshook his head. His choice was made. Matter of fact, he wasleaving this place in the next twenty-four hours. Stella Hearthad ruffled more feathers in him than he could handle.Nature’s Reserve had served enough rawness to him. Time togo home.

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S tella was almost asleep, but she heard it.“You didn’t use the pillow.”

She contemplated faking sleep but knew that wasn’t inher best interest. She turned and saw Michael about to takethe floor. Something had changed in him when he returnedfrom his walk minutes ago. He was gone for more than anhour, and he was clearly nervous about something. Stellawasn’t sure what.

“I don’t use other people’s pillow.” That was as truthful asshe could get.

His lips curved against the light of his battery-poweredlamp. “But you sleep on other people’s bed?”

Okay, he was in a feisty mood all right.“When you put it that way, it sounds very different. We

both know this is innocent cohabitation, Michael.”He looked away and lowered to the floor. “Sorry. If you

can hand me the pillow, it’s fine.” Tension radiated off him inwaves. But she did as he requested, and his head disappearedas he lay on the ground.

The silence stretched, but her mind worked feverishly.Why was he singing about a woman when she’d entered?Who was the woman he claimed to have been blessed with?Did he miss her so much that he would be singing about herhere? Why wasn’t he in a hurry to get back to her if so?

“I leave in the morning. Your leg appears healed enoughthat you could find your way, correct?”

His words pierced her thoughts and dragged her back to


T

reality. His question wasn’t really a question. He was makingit clear he was leaving and she better be ready to go. He musthave seen her when she’d walked in earlier and seen the easewith which she moved. She was ready in her heart. Her legand palm had healed enough. She just wasn’t sure how longshe needed to travel before she found modern amenities.

But other thoughts troubled her. Was he so fed up beingaround her that he was just about ready to be done with her?Where would she go from here? At least, he had a blessedwoman to go home to. She? Still on the search for her daugh-ter. “Okay,” she quietly replied.

She had one question for him though. “Would there—”A loud bang on their door cut her off and had her head

twisted toward it. A repeat bang had Michael on his feet. Sowas she. They both slipped their feet into their shoes.

He motioned for her to stay behind him. But the personoutside didn’t wait. A gunshot rang out against the door’slocks, and two armed men burst in, two of the trio Stella hadencountered the first day. The third one wasn’t with them.The lead man appeared intoxicated with something. Hewaved his free hand. “The lady. Hand her over.”

he only thing Stella knew was that it had taken barelya moment for chaos to envelop the cutout. The lead

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man and his second argued over who would get her first.Then the lead man raised his hand and shot in the air.

Michael ducked, but grabbed the man at the waist andelbowed the gun off his hand. It clattered to the concreteground. As both men struggled, the second man brandisheda knife, grabbed Stella, and forced her with him out of theroom and from the building.

Stella worried for Michael even as the second man, theone with unsteady feet, rushed her into the darkness outside.He led her down a dusty path. They’d gone some ways whenanother shot rang out from inside the building and shegasped in fear for Michael. Who shot who? Was it fatal? WasMichael injured? Or worse, dead?

Slight moonlight gleamed through the trees, but no otherlight. She barely saw her own hand. He pushed her forward,and they clambered down a sharp descent on a narrowpathway surrounded by bushes. A sign shook beside thetrack, but she couldn’t read it.

She stumbled on something and fell sideways.“Get up!”He gripped her arm hard, and she winced and hobbled to

her feet, praying for a way out. Weakness still enveloped herankles, though she knew they were almost fully healed.She’d just needed another day of rest, but that was not to be.

He shoved her forward. “Move!”Before complying, she ventured a glance backward. A

figure, towering like Michael would, followed close. She


prayed whoever they were, was a friend, not an enemy. Sheprayed it was Michael. She slowed her steps but obeyed hercaptor as a thorn bush zapped him in the face and he let outa curse.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, Iwill fear no evil.… Stella silently prayed.

The ground felt level, and her eyes now fully adjusted tothe natural light that had appeared almost completely darkearlier. As they passed a cluster of trees, the man startedcoughing. He trembled, and the knife shook in his hand.Something seemed familiar until she realized where theywere and gasped. She’d been there only once. Once wasenough to sear its imagery to her mind.

Ruthless. The cliff’s edge stared ahead dangerously as henudged her forward. She got close to it then heard a voicebehind.

“I’d say that’s far enough if you ask me.”Michael. Hope surged in her as his deep voice brought

her captor to a standstill. He rubbed his eyes.“Who do you think you are, huh?” He cursed again under

his breath and turned toward her.But it was all the time Michael needed as he lunged at

the man, and both landed on the ground as Stella reversedoff Ruthless’s edge. The knife clattered off the cliff as Michaelfought hard with her captor, slamming his hand repeatedlyagainst the ground. They both flipped several times, and

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from the grunts and yowls, someone was likely injured. Shecould see, but not clearly enough to know who.

Both men spun, and the previously armed man rose tohis feet first. Michael staggered forward, and then ithappened. Michael’s back was to the edge. The man pushedtoward Michael, and for a minute, Stella thought he’d fallover. But he’d twisted fast, and the force of the man’s tiltpushed him off the cliff.

She blocked her ears with her hands as his screamrushed into them and abruptly ended when he hit theground. She raced to Michael and pulled him back from nearthe edge.

They stayed in an embrace. Neither eager to leave as sobsshook Stella.

Michael, still breathing sharply, held her and rubbed herback until she quieted. Silently they walked away from theplace, neither looking back.

They headed down the path that led there, but Michaelwent toward the opposite direction when they neared thebuilding, guiding her away from it.

He faced her. “We can’t go back. The other man is stillthere. He shot himself in the foot before I dispossessed himof his gun and knocked him out. But he’s still alive and couldcome after us. Then there’s the third man whose where-abouts I’m not sure of. Nature’s Reserve is no longer safe. Weneed to leave right now with only the clothes on our back.”

But Stella had a pressing need.


“S

“Michael, I’m searching for my daughter. She’s seventeen.Her name is Sharon, and she got missing when we experi-enced some disaster—like an earthquake. I have to continuesearching for her.”

He pressed her shoulder close. “We’d felt a tremor coupleof days ago, but I didn’t think it was anything serious.”

“It was. Many people are injured and cut off from help.I’m the only one I know who left the site at the time. I want toget them help. And find Sharon.”

“All right. It’s a long trek, but we should be close tofinding assistance by daybreak. You think you’re up for it?”

She took his hand and looked out into the black night. “Ihave no choice.”

lower. Slower.” Stella blew gently upon the dry mashbetween his hands from the side. When it first

sparked, she added the support of her hands under his tokeep the dry grass compact. Their hard work yielded fruitwhen she blew again and it smoked white and then flickeredinto a small flame. Joyful relief tingled her fingertips as shepulled her hands from beneath his. Then he lowered thesmoking grass over a bed of sticks for a fire. The dry patchhad taken them a while to gather. They’d walked all night forat least six hours, and it was almost dawn when he suggestedthey stop and rest.

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Her knees ached and her ankles began to throb, so shereadily agreed. She’d wanted to stop earlier, but Michaelpressed upon her the need to gain as much distance betweenthem and the remaining armed men as possible.

“It has caught.” His hands brushed hers as he proddedthe burning dry grass closer over the sticks they’d collected,setting them steadily aflame. With gentle tugs, he stokedthem with such mastery, she wondered where he’d learnedit. As the flame burned atop the sticks, they drew closer to itto gain warmth. Temperatures had fallen well below theforties as the night progressed, but she was thankful fewertrees now barred their path. They’d climbed two hills andwalked across a savannah-like area. Michael said because hewas concerned for their safety from those men, they keep offthe road and only skirted the edge as they walked, hoping tochance on a vehicle. But none showed yet, so they turnedinward to make a fire to warm them up.

The ball of flame morphed into a fire, and its warmthcouldn’t have been more welcome to her cold skin. The feelof his brush remained imprinted on her hand as she woundher arms around herself.

“I thought the one summer camp I went to during middleschool was a waste. Guess I was wrong.”

A chuckle slipped through Stella’s lips at his way ofunderstanding her thoughts even when she gave them novoice.

He bent to push more of the stubborn sticks pointing


outward, into the fire. The growing flame sent smoke risinginto the sky, and grateful warmth into her bones. His sweat-shirt—that she still wore—felt adequate, and she’d tightenedthe belt on the jeans a couple of times since they left Nature’sReserve.

The small flame’s light illuminated the shrubbery aroundthem. This could be an ideal camping experience were theynot being potentially chased by two armed men, and hungry,and her fleeing a disaster while searching for her daughter.Yes, almost ideal but far from it.

“I’m sorry about the man at the cliff. I wish he didn’t die.It’s just…”

Michael’s shoulder heaved. “It was either me or him.”Stella nodded. “Exactly. You had no choice.”“I’m sorry too. Every loss of life is regrettable.”

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ay began to break soon enough, and theysnubbed the fire and continued. Her legs hadrested, but still she felt sore in her limbs. When it

got harder, he supported her with a hand on the small of herback, but they kept going. The combined stress on both feetsince she left the Crossover Complex was overwhelming. Shecouldn’t continue to stress them any further.

To take her mind off the pain, hunger, and thirst shedecided it was time to find out more about this man ofmystery who had put her safety ahead of his. What betterthan to start the chat with herself.

“I miss my daughter.” That halted Michael’s forwardsteps and slowed him to match her pace.

“It must be hard not knowing where she is. I’m sorry,” heapologized easily.

“Again, no need to be.”He shrugged, and the bluish light of the clearing sky cast

a firm ring over his frame. “I just don’t know what else to say.I empathize.”

“She loves chocolate, dark. No sugar in her tea. Blueber-ries are her favorite fruit. She snacks on almonds when she’sbored. And she’s one hothead of a girl.” A sigh escaped.

Michael’s lips curved, and she knew he was smiling.“Kind of like her mom, right?”

Stella laughed, finding the sound strange under thecircumstance. “More like her dad. He was a good man. Hedidn’t deserve.…”

Michael squeezed her shoulder and let go. “Hey, it’s okay.The pain of loss never truly goes away if you ask me. Itlingers at the background, until something forces it up.”

What did he know about loss? Obviously something.The first layer of sunlight peered over the horizon. It was

still dark. But the darkness was ebbing fast and the land-scape becoming visible.

“Thank you for the encouragement. I know God is incontrol. It’s just…” Should she tell him? “Sharon is not aChristian. She doesn’t believe in God. She used to, until shewas eight. Then it became…” How would she describethe pain?

The urgency in her quickened steps was echoed in his as

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the day broke even faster and the sun glowed like half a pie.They moved as though unable to wait to arrive where helpwas available—though they weren’t sure where that was.

“Choices people make are affected by several factors.Some you can control, others you cannot.” Michael brokeinto her thoughts. “There’s only one thing you can do, simplybe there. Have faith. She will come around in God’s time. Ican tell you from personal experience, it’s just harder forsome people to come to a place where they embrace the factof God. And the truth of their overwhelming need for Him.So why not give her the time she needs and keep praying?”

Stella had gotten tired of Sharon’s unbelief before thedisaster. Michael was telling her in his own way, not to giveup on Sharon.

They arrived to a fork in the road. One curved toward theroad where they’d be in clear view. The other ducked muchdeeper into the bushes.

Michael pointed to the one leading out to the road. “Thisone. I’m about tired of these bushes.” He took her hand andlooped her pinky gingerly.

Stella chuckled. This was the first time he expressed frus-tration since they’d trekked along. She didn’t mind himholding her hand either. Under the circumstance, itcomforted her.

“Tell me about yourself.” Stella finally tested the feelingshe’d gotten that he was avoiding speaking about himself.


“Ever wonder why Jesus chose to feed the thousands inthe Bible with the bread and two fish?”

Their eyes met, and Stella laughed. “That is hardly theanswer I expected.”

He shook his head. “I’m getting there.”Stella turned playful. “Maybe because they liked

salmon.”He stopped and gave her an incredulous look. “Granted,

they might like fish, but I don’t think that’s the reason.”He cast quick glances at her as the sun’s yellow brilliance

and warmth now washed over their faces, almost fully risen.The air smelled of morning dew as he gently released herhand. “I believe He was trying to show something. He fed themultitude all right, but I think He was also trying to elevatefaith more than food or the scarcity of it. He saw that theywere hungry and wanted them to know they could be fedwithout seeing the physical source. He is the Creator, afterall. But a valuable lesson I got from it was one thing. Faithsupersedes facts.”

Stella met his measured gaze as they halted near theroad. His eyes darkened with seriousness. His five-o’-clockshadow made him nearly irresistible. The thick bushes hadended, revealing at least half a mile ahead.

Her eyes never left his as new emotions warredwithin her.

Oblivious, he continued, “My life story isn’t traditional,and there are things I shouldn’t tell you for my own safety.

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But I can share that I am saved by Christ through gracealone. My path to Him was rough, maybe too rough for youto understand or accept.”

hey remained standing in silence. Michael shifted hisstance and shoved his hands in his pockets as he

judged her response. But he wasn’t through just yet. He tooka deep breath and let it out as the strain of the last couple ofhours harried him. “I want you to know, I have lost peoplejust like you have, but not only because they died. I wasengaged once, and I lost her to cancer. Since then, I foldedup relationship-wise.”

Michael refrained from telling her she’d brought thatpart of him back to life. Living with her unconventionally,hearing her laughter, feeling her nearness these few dayshad driven love for her like stubborn waters into his dried-upheart.

He wanted all and everything about Stella Heart. But ifhe told her, how would she take it? Did she even share theattraction that kept pulling him to hold her hand and beenveloped by its softness? Discussing faith with her andfeeling the conversation flow unhindered? Or the rapid beatof his heart every time she looked at him with those beau-tiful brown eyes? Or how much he would like to run his


hand through her dark long tresses she always confined ina bun?

He doubted she understood the torture the past hourshad been—in a good way. He enjoyed every minute of beingwith her. Too much. How could he possibly explain that heloved her, but didn’t know when or how it happened. Justthat it did?

He bit back his wayward tongue before it came too closeto spilling how he felt. He could wait. Or he could choose toshow her trust, his trust of her. A big step nonetheless, but astart. And he knew exactly how.

Stella’s gaze slid to the small gray that sneaked within hisstubby hairline starting regrowth, then lowered to thematching specks on his jaw, and he considered telling her hewasn’t a day over forty. She opened her mouth, about tospeak when something on the side caught her eye. “A car.There’s a car coming!”

Though disappointed over letting the moment slip,Michael raced toward the road. But the car headed awayfrom them.

“It’s on a different road. Come!” He snatched her hand,and they ran to meet the adjacent road before the vehicleswept past.

They waved hard, swinging their arms in wide arcs overtheir heads, unsure whether they were seen. But the carmaintained speed, hurtling closer to where they’d miss it.They shouted, jumped, and kept waving with nearly limp

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arms until the car slowed its approach. It came to a completestop in front of them. Steam rose off its hood as dustcascaded around it on the roadside. The driver twisted hishead to speak to someone behind. Sunlight silhouettedanother person within the four-door sedan as the dustcleared further.

Michael squeezed her hand. “Wait here. Let me go talk tothe driver.”

s he started moving, Stella gripped his shirt, and hestopped. “Be careful.”

He nodded and proceeded as her heart beat wildly. Shesurprised herself with how much she’d grown to care aboutthis man, recognize his frame, even in darkness, and commu-nicate easily with him. Sure, there were things he hadn’tshared, but what he did showed her he cared about her too.But who was the lady he was singing about? Was it about hislate fiancée then? If he still loved her, was there space in hisheart to love someone else? To be honest, to love Stella?

She was even more scared over how much she nowcounted on his being there for her. Being a single parent forso long meant nobody helped her grocery shopping. Shecarried her packs of bottled water to her car by herself. Inother words, she knew not to expect help. But now, Michaelhad sheltered her, fed her, and covered her in crisis. Her


dependence on him was a slippery slope she couldn’t affordto allow herself to slide down. Her throat tightened—because they sure made a good team.

She had fought against the sparks of attraction betweenthem the moment it started when they were starting a fire inthe bushes and their hands had held close. Her heart hadsparked its own flame when they’d shared the fiery success.Now when he cleared his throat in a noisy way, it gave herbutterflies because it meant he was close by and comfortablearound her.

The image of his bare muscular chest that first day wasetched in her memory. He was strong and defended anyonehe cared about. She would be safe with him. Time and again,he’d proved she could depend on him. Her heart was chasingthis man in love, but she had to keep it in check until sheknew more about him. She couldn’t be too careful especiallysince they’d only known each other for a few days. It didn’thelp that the intensity of their experiences had launched heremotions forward much faster than normal.

She exhaled slowly when Michael’s head half-disap-peared inside the window. While he conversed with thedriver, Stella willed herself to relax. They were out of thewoods. They had potentially found help. She’d soon be backto civilization. No need to panic anymore.

Michael’s head reappeared, and he waved her over,confirming her hope. But as she reached the sedan and he

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helped her inside and settled beside, a wave of sadnesswashed over her.

“They’ll take us to other survivors. And to safety.”Stella nodded as the vehicle moved. That also meant, she

and Michael were about to part ways for good.

tella’s eyes stayed on the road ahead, but her mind waselsewhere. How was she ever going to find Sharon?

With what she’d been through, she knew she couldn’t haveovercome half of it without God’s help. And withoutMichael’s. The team of two saved her life and got her to thisroad in one piece. Was Sharon receiving help where she was?Stella had to continue her search the minute they arrived tosafety, and also find out what caused the disaster.

Michael had been quiet. Too quiet. She assumed he waslost in thought too and didn’t bother him until he poked herarm with a finger. She turned, and her heart did a double flipat what she saw in his eyes. Did he love her? She couldn’t besure. Something had changed in their interaction in the pastcouple of hours. She knew what it had been for her. Shewasn’t sure what it was for him. From the looks of it, heclearly felt something. Not knowing what, she wouldn’tpush it.

“I want to tell you something,” he began.Whatever he was going to say seemed important. “Sure.


Go ahead.” The surprise in her eyes must have becomeapparent because he leaned in closer and his warmthpervaded her senses. She focused on his words instead.Thankfully, they were seated closely enough not to be over-heard but that also made it harder to concentrate. The othersfaced the windows and appeared lost in thought.

“As a teenager, I wasn’t pulling with the best bunch.” Hescratched his head. “We did a lot of things we weren’tsupposed to do. I was the most stubborn of the group. Kidswere scared of us, so we thought we were it.”

Stella blinked. He was telling her his life story. The onehe’d never once broached since they met.

He smiled sadly and shook his head. “One night when Iwas nineteen, we were leaving a liquor store, which by theway, we had no reason to visit. We took fake IDs along andbought enough alcohol to leave us in a stupor. That night, Igot introduced to drugs.”

He dropped his head low. “I was a good player, so I washoping for a spot in a football league, and I also sang. By thetime I was twenty-two, I had a music record deal and was setto sign my first album. Football later didn’t pan out, but Ididn’t know that at the time so I went to meet with prospec-tive agents.”

He wiped his face with his hand and looked in her eyes.The reddened scratch that she saw along the side of his rightarm could have resulted from either of the attacks he’dsuffered while defending her.

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“After the meeting, I left through the back doors to avoidany lurking press folks like I was advised to do. In the roofedparking lot at the back, a famous football player loudlyargued with his girlfriend. She was breaking up with him,and he would not have it. But I recognized him. And I wassure the man had been married, and judging from the ringon his finger, was still married.”

Tension caught in Stella’s throat. Michael was trustingher. Was this it? A sign that he loved her enough to let herinto his heart?

“Moments later, they began to fight. I froze in horror ashe curved his arm around her neck and strangled her.”

Stella gasped. “Oh no!”Michael nodded. “I gasped then too. He heard it, saw me,

dropped her, and gave a chase. When I ran to the road, hestopped and went back. I went home, thinking he didn’tknow who I was and I was safe.” His voice became choked.

“The entire experience messed me up. I couldn’t sleep oreat that day, but my parents insisted I went to church withthem that night. I hadn’t told them what I saw, but my momknew something was wrong. She said she wasn’t leaving meat home to lick my wounds no matter what.”

He huffed. “She was always the best at detecting mymood even though I was a tough only child.”

“You were an only child?”“Yes. Sadly, I gave my parents a hard time. Now I wish I

hadn’t, but you can’t change the past.”


He scratched his jaw. “Well, I insisted that since it was aTuesday, not a Sunday, I wasn’t going to church, but finally,we went. I had delayed them until the end, and we enteredjust as the altar call was made. The pastor asked from thepulpit whether we were coming forward to receive Christ. Isaid no too eagerly.”

His jaw tightened. “My mom apologized for my behavior,and we took our seats. Three months later, I was deep intoselling drugs at night and composing music by day. My firstalbum sold, and I was considered a young rising star.Everyone in the neighborhood knew my nickname as Slickthe drug dealer. They never knew my official name nor me asa musician.”

He turned away, and Stella patted his arm slightly.This was not easy for him. He was spilling his soul liter-

ally to her. “I’m with you. Go on.”

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M

10

ichael nodded, strain clear in his face. Heasked the driver for water. He received onebottle and shared it with Stella. She gratefully

consumed half the bottle’s contents before he continued.“I was twenty-three when a drug deal went bad. Several

people were shot and injured. No fatalities, but I was prettyshaken up. I was the fear of the neighborhood, but they weremy fear too. I knew it was only a matter of time beforeanother youth would kill me and take my place as a drugking. I wanted out but saw no way that would leave me alive.I was desperate.”

Tears filled his eyes. “I’d forgotten all about the day I’dseen the famous player kill his girlfriend. One day, I went to

run an errand for my mom. I was to take some homemadepie to the pastor’s wife. When I got there, I was told she leftfor the hospital. The man had had a heart attack. My momasked me to take the pie to the hospital then. I was livid, butI went.”

He ran a quick tongue over his lips. They looked as dryand cracked as hers, even with the water they’d alreadydrank. Being a nurse, she knew they were severely dehy-drated and couldn’t wait to reach their destination. They’dbeen on the road for more than one hour, and the sun washot in the sky. Drinking water and a good hot shower weretops on her list of immediate need.

“I got to the hospital and the nurse showed me to thepastor’s room, as a visitor. I wasn’t there to stay, but the nursesaid the wife had just left and that I was welcome to spendsome time with him. When I entered the room, the manlooked so frail. But his eyes—they were on fire. He said he’dbeen waiting for me. And asked what took me so long. ThatGod had a message for me.”

Michael chuckled. “That had me up in arms. I told him Iwas only there to deliver pie, which I wasn’t even sure theyshould have let me give him. He said to place it on the deskfor when his wife returned. Which I did. Then he launchedinto a sermon about salvation, deliverance, consecration, allthat stuff. I endured it for an hour but was not ready to hearany more. Then he leaned in and said, ‘Today, you get tochoose. Your choice will determine your eternity. If you

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delay, your clock might run out. Choose Jesus. Give Him achance and see what He will do.’”

Michael lowered his voice to a whisper as the vehicleslowed down, and Stella began to see a town at a distance. Itwas so refreshing having been in bushes, climbed a rock, andseen only trees for days. This route was unfamiliar to her.

“When I left his room, I was angry. How dare he tell memy clock had run out? He was the one lying in bed with aheart attack not me. I was young, and already decided toleave the drug game, and had my entire life ahead of me. ButGod knew what I didn’t know.”

He took the empty water bottle and held it in one hand.“On my way home, my car was cornered. I was run off the

road. I didn’t see who it was, but soon, US Marshals showedup, and there was a firefight. I was caught in the middle withthe shooting going over my car both ways.”

Stella gasped again.“As I sat there with my car getting ridden with bullets, I

thought about what the pastor said. He was right. My clockhad run out. So I crouched low and prayed a desperateprayer. I told God that if You get me out of here, I will serveYou. It was a miracle. When the shootout ended, those whoran me off the road were dead, and me without a scratch.The US Marshals seized me. I asked them what wasgoing on.”

He exhaled and set the empty bottle on the floor. Thenarration was clearly getting more difficult for him. “They


said I was a loose end—someone’s loose end. I said I didn’tknow what they were talking about. They asked whether Iknew a rising pop star who died two years before. Then itclicked.”

Stella turned to face him fully.“I’d looked up the lady who died and saw she wasn’t an

average Jane. She was famous though less than the footballplayer. The marshals said their follow-up investigation hadstalled for two years until they caught a break recently. Avideo had showed up online with a man strangling somelady. Upon closer examination, facial recognition softwarepicked up the faces of the famous player and the deadwoman. Apparently, he dumped her body far from whereshe’d died. It also picked out my face by the corner where Iwatched in horror. They said they saw when he chased me.Then the video cut off.”

The man seated close coughed, and Michael waited untilhe was done before continuing. “He had gone to the footballexecutives’ office and inquired about my ID, but they wouldnot disclose. They weren’t sure how he found me. But oncehe knew the authorities were on to him, and that I was theonly eyewitness, he knew with me still out there, he could goto jail.”

Stella understood now and didn’t wait for him to finish.“You’re a protected witness.”

Michael nodded. “Fifteen years running and I haven’tseen my parents since. They wouldn’t come with me. My

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mom insisted no one would make her leave her home. Sheprayed for me, rejoiced for my conversion, and gave me aBible as a parting gift. I miss her every day.”

“Where did all this happen?”“Detroit. I’m originally from Detroit. But I live here in

Columbia, Maryland. Like I’d mentioned, I work as a musicdirector for Grace Family Church. The pay isn’t much. But ittakes care of my needs plus some savings on the side, andthat’s all that matters.”

“You’ve never gone home?” She said it almost as astatement.

He wrung his fingers. “No. That day, I was taken intoprotective custody until the trial. My parents came to saytheir goodbyes there after the trial ended and he wassentenced. The player was embedded in the midst of acontract squabble too, and the Marshals didn’t want me toget caught up in it.”

He shook his head. “Since then, no more pro football ormusic career. I’ve wished so many times that I could just goto see my parents once more.”

“So what’s your real name?” Those in witness protectionchanged names to hide their original identities.

He observed her. This was a test of ultimate trust. A testof whether he bared it all. He lowered his head a smidgen,kissed her forehead, and spoke slowly into her ear. His mous-tache stub tickled her face as he said the words that could


T

ruin him if she ever failed his trust. “John. John Carlos. Myassumed name is Michael Huddleston.”

Stella shut her eyes and committed everything tomemory. No doubt now. Michael loved her. He hadn’t said so.He had shown so. “Thank you, John.” She addressed him byhis real name. That sent his hand on her shoulder into atighter grip. Then it loosened.

His eyes brimmed. “I love you, Stella. I barely know you,but I know with a certainty that I love you.”

There. He’d said it as he pulled away and looked farahead on the road. Her breath caught in her throat, and shewas lost for words. She was eager to say the same, but somany things held her back. First, Sharon. She had to findSharon before she could commit herself. This was not a one-person decision when she had family to consider. Sharonwas still missing, and Stella would not commit to any manuntil she found her daughter. So she let silence be heranswer for the moment.

he car suddenly felt too small, and their leather seatstoo close. With everything Michael had told Stella,

plus dropping the bombshell that he loved her, she wantedmore space to process it without him sitting so near. Shepressed an arm closer to the seat divider and leaned a bitforward.

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He seemed to understand her need for space and justsank back, closed his eyes, and let her be. That suited her justfine because her deep blush at his declaration of love wasstill awash on her face as she kept her gaze pinned outside.

A puff of smoke escaped from around the hood of the car.“Smoke is coming out of your car. Stop.”

But the driver continued. “No. Can’t do, ma’am.”Michael leaned forward and cleared his throat

noisily. “Why?”“We stopped when the smoke first happened couple of

miles back, before we picked you guys up. It took a half hourto get the car started again. I’m not risking it when we’re thisclose. We’ve got just half a mile more to go.”

Only half a mile. Stella glanced at Michael, and they bothsmiled, faces beaming with hope.

“This baby is old,” the driver continued oblivious of theexchange. “If I stop and it fails to start, you’re going to betrekking, and I don’t think you want that. One more gooddeed, and I’m free to junk this car. It’s done its time.”

Stella got his point. The car could only go so far, but shehoped it got them to their destination because she was donetrekking for the time being. She also prayed it wouldn’t catchfire as the smoke grew so thick it obscured the windshield.

Even more concerning was that not a single car camefrom the opposite direction of the two-lane road. If they werearriving at a safe place, why wasn’t there traffic?

She chose not to worry and instead focus on how far they


had come. After all, she’d ridden in a van at night with adrunken man behind her, in the middle of a disaster. Thiswas broad daylight, and nothing she couldn’t safely handlewith God on her side. The driver had said something toMichael so she assumed he knew about the earthquake. Butwhat if she was wrong in her assumption? She turned toMichael so he could clarify. “Michael, I—”

A flash of light caught her view, and she spun. They werenearing a crowded place. Blue tarp overhead—wide enoughto cover a major highway—ran opposite the road to the otherside. People, more people than she had seen in days, hurriedacross several booths underneath the tarp, scattered alongthe road and stood talking on their cell phones. Under eachbooth were two manned, white plastic tables covered withblue tablecloth and a sign hanging off them.

Stella felt catapulted from the Stone Age into moderntimes with no time to adjust. And she loved it. Hope sparkedlike a fire within her. She was going to find Sharon one wayor another. With laser focus, she gripped the headrest of theseat in front as the vehicle came to a stop. The driver poppedthe hood from inside, and someone rushed forward, openedthe hood, and sprayed a fire extinguisher. Within moments,the smoke died down. But the driver did not turn off hisengine.

A lady in jeans with an ice bucket yelled while reaching ahand inside the car. “Water!”

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Michael grabbed the bottle she held out, then a secondone. He gave one to Stella.

The smoke cleared. She saw that several of the manned,white tables were set up. The one labeled Food had fourjoined tables clearly laden with steaming fried rice and otherassorted food. Another labeled First Aid had someone like amedic giving out antiseptic wipes to a few persons while akid sat down in front of him. Orange-colored Caution conessurrounded parts of the area, and yellow tape cordoned off asection far behind the blue tarp. Firefighter trucks, emer-gency vehicles, and police cruisers with flashing lightsmarked off a boundary farther behind. People wearingorange volunteer jackets rushed from one table to the next.Another vehicle rumbled in behind theirs, and Stella turnedto look. Its white hood was well padded with dust as wastheirs.

Michael patted the driver’s seat. “Hey, thank you so muchfor the ride. Pop the door open please, so we can get out.”

The man beside them anxiously peered outside too,eager to get out. Two men approached, wearing volunteerjackets and armed with clipboards and pens.

Though the driver didn’t turn off the engine, he fiddledwith the door lock until both men got close enough. Whywasn’t he letting them out? Did he know something theydidn’t?

The windows on both sides were rolled down, so they’dknow soon enough.


The car jerked forward when the driver pumped thebrakes, and Stella gripped the headrest in front ofher. “Stop!”

If only he could open the doors. But both volunteer menoutside frowned as they peered into the car through therolled-down window. One had an unfriendly face and spokefirst, tapping his pen on the clipboard. Michael pushed thedoors open, but the men refused to step back. With themstanding there, the doors couldn’t open.

Michael frowned. “Excuse us, please?”The man pinned them a hard glare, his lips thinning.

“You must sign a pledge and declaration before you canget out.”

Michael and Stella exchanged glances. “Pledgeto whom?”

The man ignored Michael’s question and turned to theman in the front passenger seat as he reached for the clip-board. Signing, he was allowed to depart and disappearedinto the crowd. He wore a construction worker’s gear andheaded straight for the Food table. The man who’d sat nextto Stella did the same. But Michael and Stella stayed. Stelladidn’t think what they asked for was legal.

She leaned to the window. “We just need some water andfood, and to make a phone call. We’re not here to make anytrouble.” Stella hoped a peaceful tone would soften theirhearts. The police cruisers were too far away. She would haveyelled if she was sure they’d hear her. Moreover, the driver

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looked like he wanted to continue. She wasn’t sure to whereor how he’d get there with a smoking car, but she was itchingto get out of the man’s car—fast.

The dogged thin man with wiry brown hair plopped twosheets and a pen through the window, and they droppedonto Stella’s lap. “You want food? Sign this then.”

Stella picked them up and tossed them right back at him.“No. Let me speak to the police.” Something crossed theman’s face. Yep, he was definitely doing something unautho-rized. That emboldened her. “We’re not interested in yourpledge.”

Michael placed a supporting hand on her back, facingthem. “Look, gentlemen, this is simply a misunderstanding.Let’s have some food and water, we’ll be out of your hair.We’ve been on the road, on foot rather, all night long. We justmet this driver a few hours ago, and he brought us here.Please, just…be human.”

The second man appeared to soften. But the other, not somuch. He gripped the forms tight and whispered somethingto his colleague. That one turned and left, walking with slowsteps. The one who stayed wrinkled his nose and darted hiseyes side to side. “Listen, there are more people coming,many who would gladly sign in exchange for food.” That washardly his earlier, sign-or-you’re-out tone, but he still stoodin their way.


S

11

tella suppressed her flaming frustration at theinsistence. Her neck burned with tension. This wasabsurd to say the least.

“I can assure you, whatever your rules are, we’ll obeythem,” Michael pushed.

Exhaustion blazed through his tired eyes, and she couldscarcely stand another bout of argument. She bowed herhead, closed her eyes, and prayed a quick prayer for God toopen the way for them.

“They can have water, right?”Stella was surprised to hear the driver chime in. She

offered him a grateful smile. Of course, he could have helpedbetter earlier had he let them out of his car faster.

“Says who?” The thin man bent and peered.“Says I.” A firm female voice, too familiar to Stella’s mind,

said from outside the passenger window.The man straightened and simply walked away without

further protest, his pen dangling by extended black ropefrom the clipboard he held. But Stella’s blood raced in herveins as she climbed out of the vehicle after Michael, aroundthe car and toward the voice.

She gasped, collapsed to her knees on dusty tar, and criedout for joy that welled from deep within. “Sharon!”

Sharon came to her knees as well, trembling, as bothwomen rammed into each other’s arms and wept for whatfelt like forever—the first emotional response Stella sawSharon show in a decade.

When the tears ceased, they parted, and Stella’s gazedropped to a cross pendant stuck by sweat on Sharon’s neck.She looked into her eyes then back to her neck and blinked.

Sharon nodded tearfully. Was the sealed curtain trulyslipping? Stella gaped in pleasant shock. They hugged again,and this time, Stella’s sobs were louder than Sharon’s. Shefelt numbed with gratitude to God, for saving Sharon inevery conceivable way.

Sharon pulled them apart slightly, looked up at Michaelwho stood silently behind Stella. “I assume he’s with you?”

Stella turned and rose to her feet. “Yes. He is.”Sharon held out a stabilizing hand, and she took it.“Ms. Parsons, we need your help. Someone won’t allow


her kid to be sutured. He’s bleeding from an earlier fall at theboundary marker, and we can’t hold him down. They sayyou’re good with kids. Can you help?” A young, male volun-teer about Sharon’s age extended a rushed hand to Sharon.But she exhibited more maturity than Stella had seen her doin her seventeen years as she smiled genuinely but main-tained calm.

Her eighteenth birthday was less than two weeks away,and God had answered Stella’s prayer before then. Shecouldn’t wait to hear how Sharon’s conversion happened.

“I’ll be glad to, Trevor. Give me a minute or two. I needtime with family.”

The volunteer with curly black hair curiously eyed bothStella and Michael and left. Clearly, Sharon had some sort ofauthority here. Stella swallowed back more tears as prideover seeing her daughter taking care of people threatened tosuffocate her.

“Michael, meet my daughter, Sharon.” Somehow, Stellamanaged to start the introductions. She choked back thelump in her throat and pushed out the rest. “Sharon,Michael.”

They shook hands.But Sharon spun back to Stella quickly, her brown eyes

scanning her. “Mom, are you all right? Were you injured? Doyou need anything?” How odd for Stella to have Sharonplaying parent. Caring about her and her needs wasn’t herusual. This was different. Something had really changed.

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Stella held back the cascade of emotions vying forprimacy. “Michael and I have a lot to tell you. But, yes, I’mfine. I just have a swollen ankle and a cut on my palm. Weneeded food and water.”

“And a phone. Don’t forget that.” First time he spokesince the mother-daughter reunion.

“Oh, we don’t need one anymore. I was going to ask forassistance in finding Sharon. Well, clearly it’s no longernecessary.” Stella turned to Sharon. “Your aunts will beworried. We should call them though.”

“Yes.” Sharon knotted the strings of her volunteer jackettighter. “I update them once a day, in the evening as wewaited for news about you. It was nerve-wracking.”

Michael smiled as he caught Stella’s swung elbow with agentle hand. “I assure you, the wracked nerves went bothways.” Having Michael vouch for her brought a new level ofrespect for him.

Vivid curiosity gleamed in Sharon’s eyes about Michael.Stella was glad they were starting anew.

“Come. I need to get you inside. You both need some foodand looks like, a shower and new clothes. Then, we talk.”

Stella hadn’t even noticed how odd she must look stillwearing Michael’s clothes. She was just grateful her prayersof the past decade had gotten answered. Sharon believed inChrist. Whatever else she needed to learn, Stella would bethere to support her. She had found Sharon, hale and hearty,


“I

and Michael was by her side. Her heart was threatening toburst with joy.

Michael took her hand to support her, to relieve the pres-sure on her again-swollen ankles as they wound through thecrowd to a temporary shelter close to the marked cruisers.

’m sorry, Mom, but they need your help.”Stella looked up from the warm cup of oatmeal

she’d been eating while Michael sat beside her eating hisown. They both straightened and observed the two fire-fighters who’d entered the shelter with Sharon.

“Okay.”Sharon had waited for her mom’s consent before continu-

ing. “They’ve tried to rescue the people stuck at Crossoverand the environ but had little success.”

Stella wasn’t sure where this was going. “So they knowwhat caused the disaster? The earthquake?” She looked fromone firefighter to the other.

“We can’t really say with certainty. But it began as anearthquake. The quake ruptured a natural gas pocket, whichled to a massive gas leak just north of Crossover. We believethe combination set off a chain reaction. But with naturalmatters, we could never be sure.”

An earthquake. A natural gas leak. “Was there any fire?”One looked down. “No, but a train leaving Crossover ran

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right into the ball of gaseous air. Passengers in the first andlast cars were seriously affected, including those who left thetrain to walk into the tunnel. Unfortunately, some diedbefore we arrived. Most survivors from the train are nowhospitalized. We’re waiting for the gas to clear for saferecovery of victims. The National Transportation SafetyAgency, the Whisper Line management, and the White OakFire Department are coordinating rescue efforts. We all wantto act faster for those still there.”

Stella covered her mouth with her hand and put downthe oatmeal as her eyes locked in with Sharon’s. Sharonnodded to confirm her fears. That auto-train. The same onethey had hopped over to the opposite side of the platformwith, was the trapped train. If they’d stayed on…

Sobs racked her body over the inexplicable loss of life asingle disaster had caused. Michael and Sharon took bothsides of her and held her until she quieted. She wiped hereyes and looked at the firefighters with fresh resolve. “Whatcan I assist you with?”

She’d help save others. She knew firsthand how thedisaster felt.

“We’ve been able to drop food and water within the lastforty-eight hours to those still in the military complex. Theproblem is we have no way to extract them from the ground.Air rescue is too risky because the gas concentrations are stillhigh above ground. We need an alternate route with thosemany people in desperate need.”


He looked at the second firefighter who appeared like hewas Sharon’s age or a bit older. “We want to know how youescaped on ground. We want to ply your route to save them.We can’t rely on satellite feed because it may not pinpointthe natural gas leak perimeter the way we need it to, and wecan’t risk losing any more lives.”

Stella could hardly believe her ears. She looked atMichael, who nodded.

“Sure, I can’t recall the entire route because there werebreaks in my journey. But Michael and I will be happy to tellyou everything we remember.”

They cleared a desk, and the other firefighter spread outa map. “That is great. Thank you, ma’am.”

Stella and Michael rose and began studying the map topoint out the route they traveled together. Stella continuedwith the one she traversed alone.

Michael halted her. “We have something we need toreport to the police. A dead body below a huge rock boulderat Nature’s Reserve. We were attacked and defendedourselves from the attackers.” He proceeded to tell themabout the attacks they suffered at the hands of thearmed men.

“We’ll get the police in here.”When one firefighter left, Sharon took steps toward the

door. “I’m the lead volunteer, and I need to return. There’s alot to do. When you’re done helping them, Mom, pleasecome for me at the first aid tent. That’s where I’ll be.”

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S

Stella raised her gaze from the map enough tonod. “Okay.”

They were out of danger, but so many weren’t. Lives wereon the line, and she wasn’t going to waste a minute.

tella wanted to smother Sharon’s face with kisses andtell her how much she’d missed her. But it wasn’t the

time or place. This was time to talk. She knew this was goingto be tough.

Hours after mapping out the safe route to the firefightersas well as she recalled, Stella showered and changed into thefresh clothes Sharon had scouted for her. Michael andSharon had intermittently gotten them food while theyworked earlier. They seemed to like each other and talkedeasily. Michael made a joke as they returned that had Sharonlaughing.

Stella hesitated to intrude in the good relationshipbudding between them. It was almost like a father-daughterrelationship and was too good for her to hope for. Shereminded herself that Michael was going to be gone soonand back to his life. She and Sharon would go back to theirseven as stubborn hope pecked at her resignation to thecoming separation.

It was already evening now, and night fast approached.


But it no longer scared her like at Nature’s Reserve where thearmed men threatened. Stella shuddered, thankful to be safe.

After their meeting with the police, Michael went tocontinue assisting the firefighters in planning the rescueeffort, while Stella stayed in the tent Sharon secured for her.

Sharon returned just after it got dark, and they decided itwas quiet enough then to talk. At least, so they’d both knowwhat happened with Sharon all this time, and so Stella couldbrief Sharon on Michael when he wasn’t there.

As they sat across from a mobile fan blowing natural air,Stella wondered what the future held. Her life today was sodifferent from barely one week ago. So much had changed.And it wasn’t just that now she was sitting with Sharon in amodern tent, on a plush couch with light and radio available.Sharon filled up her cup with another glass of cocoa whileshe went for coffee.

“No tea?” Stella asked. Tea—iced tea in the summer andhot green tea in winter—was Sharon’s favorite.

Sharon smiled, and a twinkle laced her eyes. “The pastcouple of days called for something stronger.” She took herseat. “You comfortable?”

Stella took a sip. Sharon had been pampering her andasking after her well-being every few minutes. This was adifferent Sharon. Stella enjoyed being doted on for a change,but had more important concerns to iron out.

The light in the tent dimmed as a mobile electric gener-

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ator outside sputtered but held. “Tell me what happenedafter you got on the bus. Everything.”

Sharon set down her cup. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you.”That solved one anxiety.“I was so worried.”Sharon lowered her head and bit her lip. “I know. I

shouldn’t have left without you. I was just sick of you takingcare of me, telling me what to do. I thought I could take careof me by myself. So I left to prove to you that I was grown. Iwas wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“You’ve changed.” Stella could hardly wait to get to theheart of the matter, so to say. She had waited this long, butwanted no further delay. “What happened?”

Sharon inhaled and shook her head. “The bus broughtme here. But not to this side.”

Huh? “There’s another side?” The massive police cruisershad blocked her view of anything else on the few occasionsshe stepped outside.

“Yes. This road was split in two by the earthquake.There’s a temporary bridge there now, but there wasn’t onethen. We had no way to get across.”

Silence stretched, but Stella waited.When Sharon lifted her head, a glitter shone in her eyes,

and her voice shook. “We were stuck there for hours. No onecould reach us. At first, I thought maybe the road had brokenfurther ahead. But this was a very rural road surrounded byuncultivated farms. Later, we found out that gas had leaked


ten miles on the other end, close to a gas mine uphill, so theyclosed the highway for safety. That was why we saw no cars.We spent the night at that edge.”

A tear dropped down her cheeks, and she swiped it.“People got desperate. We had no food or water, and therewere maybe ten of us or less. They decided we should try toswing across, but the gap was too wide and ran deep. Ifanyone fell, they couldn’t survive it.”

She swallowed. “All I could think of was you. I regrettedleaving you, but I couldn’t go back. I could only hope youwere coming behind me. Later, they said the road had splitback there too. So I understood when you didn’t show up.”

Stella took another sip to calm her churning insides. Theemotions inside her were tumbling on each other. Gratitudeto God. Disbelief. Then joy.

“The following morning, I was so hungry, tired, anddesperate I couldn’t wait. Someone tried to jump. But he fellshort and died. I was so devastated.”

Her sealed curtain had come down, or rather, crasheddown. Emotions poured out in tears as Sharon sniffed. “Allthis while, I had been so angry about Dad’s death. That waswhy I refused to believe in God anymore. I said to myself thatif God existed, and He loved us, then Dad wouldn’thave died.”

Stella thought back. Yes, it was months after he died thatSharon declared lack of faith in God. Stella could not fathomthat it was caused by his loss. She blamed it solely on what

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they told Sharon in school. “But you said your school toldyou there was no proof of God’s existence. That was why youchose not to believe any longer.”

Sharon nodded. “They did say so, but the seed of unbe-lief was already brewing in me by then. I just neededsomeone to fan it. The school’s stance was my solidifyinglayer. The reason I could tell you that didn’t hurt as bad. Thefoundation was already laid with Dad’s death. He was a goodman and he shouldn’t have died if God was in charge, waswhat I told myself. But I was wrong. So wrong.”

Sobs racked her body, and her shoulders hunched. Stellatouched her shoulder, teared up, and then gathered her closeuntil she quieted down to sniffles. Her hair was tucked underStella’s chin and smelled like strawberry. Stella kissed herhair and face, wiping the yet-streaming tears, and offered aslight, loving smile.

“When another person jumped and died too, I’d had it. Igathered the group together, about eight of us left. I asked forideas. But even then, I was torn inside. I’d watched innocentpeople plunge to their deaths trying to cross. People got swal-lowed by the ground at Crossover. They were probably goodpeople too, and they died. I realized there were laws ofnature at play. Laws God designed the earth to operate by toremain in equilibrium. If those laws were violated, they ledto bad consequences. I’d blamed God for nature. But I askedmyself, if God did not give me free will, would I have thoughtHim kind? I didn’t think so. So I realized how foolish I’d


been. Dad was in a war zone and died as a result of a deadlymortar. God didn’t send the mortar to kill him. A humanbeing did. I fell on my face and cried. I remembered all thewords I’d read in your Bible when you left it open on thedining room table to make breakfast.”

Stella bolted upright, an emotional charge like lightningsurging through her. “You read my Bible?”

Sharon sighed. “Enough times. You didn’t know since youwere usually in the kitchen. But out here, those words camealive. I had been a Christian, though at a younger age. But Iknew what to do. I prayed the sinner’s prayer to receive Jesusagain, and instantly peace flooded my soul. It was incredible.I felt like a prodigal son who just came home. God and Ipicked up from where we stopped. I was stunned that myrelationship with God reconnected and grew forward.”

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12

tella could not believe her ears. Joy unspeakablebubbled over inside her. She hugged Sharon, andboth women cried. Michael walked in, upon seeing

the emotional scene, tiptoed out again.“I began praying for you, Mom. I prayed for the Lord to

protect you, to keep you safe, and to return you to me. Butfirst I had to cross the divide.”

Sharon sniffed. “An idea occurred to me. I asked everyoneto take off their coats, sweaters, belts and jackets, and wetested the strength of each. We determined those that werestrong enough and tied them all together. When we weredone, it ran short. We needed one more. I realized I still wore

the jacket you gave me so I took it off, and when we tied it,the length was just enough.”

Stella sucked in air and held. “Lord!” Her throat went dryover the omniscience of God.

“We swung our rope, and it took a few tries before thewide loop caught on the road mile marker just over thedivide, on the other side. We weren’t sure how strong it was,so I agreed to test it first. The others held the rope at one end,and as I prayerfully climbed, it lowered into the depth below.But I came out to the other side. When I reached the otherside, I moved over to secure the rope more tightly so theothers could cross.”

Stella gasped at the risk Sharon took.“When we’d all safely crossed, we walked down the road,

and less than a mile away, we spotted a police cruiser andwaved him to stop. He had shut down the mine where theleak occurred, and rescued the few workers on site in hiscruiser. We informed him about the situation at CrossoverComplex. He said they had gotten no calls. We told him thecommunication towers were probably down.”

“They were down. I saw them with my own eyes.”“So he got us food, water, and clothes. Everyone went to

town but me. I refused to leave until I saw you, so I asked tobe a rescue support volunteer, the first one. Two othersreturned to join me from those rescued from the mine,including a gas engineer named Dennis. Luckily, theyweren’t affected by the leak because they took shelter inside

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the facility. His son, Trevor whom you met earlier, had comesearching for him and found him with us. Then he stayed toassist. They made me the lead volunteer after they heard ofthe risk I’d taken for others’ safety. Every day I waited andhoped to see you. I prayed for a chance to make things right.I’d been such a terrible daughter.”

Sharon wiped her nose. “The crowd grew. People camefrom all directions seeking help, but I held onto hope thatyou’d show. I planned to return to town tomorrow if I hadn’tseen you yet. But thank God I have.”

“Have you heard from Terra?”“She got out safely. She was one of the first few people to

be rescued, but she was terribly shaken. I asked her aboutyou, and she said she didn’t know. She said to tell you shemoved back to Chicago to her parents’.”

Sharon hesitated like something else had occurred to her.“Mom, remember when Terra had a Band-Aid in hermouth?”

Stella nodded, the whole experience vivid in hermemory. “Yes?”

“I had broken up with my boyfriend, Roni. I was textinghim a stinker when Terra spotted you entering the lab. Shetried to do something, anything to take your attention fromme. She had doodled with a sharpie on a Band-Aid on thetable so she sucked it into her mouth randomly. That waswhen you walked in.”

Stella smiled in relief. “Well, her trick worked. I was so


confused and could not guess what was going on.” But,Sharon had a boyfriend? Stella let it drop. Things werenew now.

“I told Terra I’ve become a Christian. She didn’t take thenews well so our friendship is over. We said our goodbyes,and I wished her best of luck on our behalf.”

That was fine, but Stella knew she still needed to speak toher as her former boss. Stella pointed to the golden crosspendant on Sharon’s neck. “And this?”

Sharon fingered it. “A sign of my faith. I never wantanyone to doubt that I believe in Christ now or ever again.My faith in Him has come to stay. I requested this from theofficer after telling him my story. He brought it to meyesterday from town, free of charge.”

Stella joined hands with Sharon and closed her eyes.Sharon did the same. “Father God, we come before you inhumility. I acknowledge you as God in heaven, on earth, andunder the earth. You are a faithful God. Thank you, LordJesus, for all You have done. We cannot thank You enough.You saved our lives. You brought us back together again, andYou saved Sharon’s soul.”

Stella choked but forced herself to continue. “I’m sograteful You answered me at Your perfect time. We commitour journey as a family going forward into Your able hand.Teach us, guide us, keep us, and surround us with Your love,peace, and joy. In Jesus’ name, I pray, amen.”

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Sharon echoed. “Amen.” Their first prayer as a reunitedfamily.

Both giggled.“Mom, who is the man with you? Is he your friend?”It was time to tell her side of the experience, and tell

Sharon about Michael. She just wasn’t sure she knew whatthey were to each other, after today. But first things first. “Hisname is Michael Huddleston, and he saved my life moretimes than I can count. I’m going to start from the beginning,the time after you left with the bus.”

Sharon sank back into her seat and stretched her legs.“Okay, Mom. I’m listening.”

tella pumped her fist in frustration. “Michael, you’renot helping.”

He shrugged and bit into an apple as music soared.“What? I’m just telling it like it happened. You were smart todistract the man while I tackled him.”

She pointed a cooking spoon at him as it dripped soysauce while Sharon laughed. “I wasn’t even trying!”

He quirked his lips as the doorbell rang.“They’re here.” Sharon raced to get the door for her three

aunts.“That’s the genius of it, Stella. I’ve never met a more


courageous, smart, beautiful, and godly woman. You embodyall that and then some.”

Stella turned to face the stove, the heat on her facematching its flame. They hadn’t really talked about his decla-ration of love. Frankly, they hadn’t talked. They had stayed atthe rescue site for an additional day until the emergencycrew confirmed they had successfully retraced Stella’sjourney and were evacuating mass number of people by roadand ferrying them to hospitals, or to safety depending ontheir condition. Crossover Complex was closed. So was theJamisone military complex after it emptied of survivors.

White Oak’s police chief called and thanked them fortheir support and cleared them of wrongdoing in the deathof the armed man after forensic experts studied the sceneand found enough proof that the man fell over on his own.

Then Sharon pressed for Michael to join them on theirreturn home. She insisted a home-cooked meal would dohim a world of good. Said she was cooking it to thank him forrescuing her mom.

But Stella suspected she wanted them together longer.She couldn’t blame her. She hadn’t had a father figure in tenyears. Of course Sharon still loved her dad, but neededsomeone in a paternal role while navigating the transitionfrom teenage-hood to adulthood.

She had also told Michael about her three sisters, all ofwhom were coming in after they heard Stella had returnedsafely. What she didn’t tell him was that this would be their

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first time all together under one roof in five years. As sheheard the noise of their arrival and greetings with Sharon,Stella feared this reunion could go either way—painful expe-rience proved it. She wasn’t sure she wanted any negatives toplay out in front of Michael. But she didn’t have a choice.They were all going to be together until he left tonight. Thenher sisters were sleeping over before leaving in the morning.

“Goodness, Stella! You gave us quite a scare. Whathappened?” Erica, the more caring one, swept past Michaeland hugged Stella, who pulled off her apron. Stella returnedthe hug, then hugged April and Summer as they camein tow.

Summer, full hair whipping in the air, and the youngestof the four, bore her usual flair of surprise even when she’dheard the entire story from other quarters. “Are you all right?You had us worried, Stella. Nothing that exciting happens inWyoming.”

She set her purse down and gave Michael a measuredlook. He nodded to her, and they shook hands. Next, heshook hands with Erica and April.

“Nice to meet you, ladies. Your sister is a wonderful cook.I’ve already eaten the first round, and she’s cooking another.”

Erica’s smile widened, and she hopped onto the kitchencounter, not caring to clear some space first, sending a salt-shaker falling. Stella caught it before it hit the floor. Ericawas still the same careless, or as she defined herself, carefreeperson. She wasn’t even looking at Stella anymore.


She landed her trademark curious smile on Michael.“Hello. You must be the mystery hero who saved our sister.Pray, what’s your name, sir?”

Hah! Stella nearly laughed at her use of the title, but shekept her facial expression in check.

Michael shrugged as all the ladies now pinned him witha gaze. He never squirmed. Instead, he smiled. “I wouldn’tcall myself a hero, and I don’t need the title. But I was glad tobe present when Stella needed help. She has been a blessingin many ways.”

Stella’s eyes locked with his as she read every possiblemeaning into his words. She looked away first and went topull the chocolate chip cookies from the oven even thoughthe timer hadn’t rung. She needed to busy her hands andmake up her mind about this man. He was making it clearerand clearer that he wanted to be more to her. She was sureher sisters didn’t miss the exchange and would query herlater.

“Both humble and kind. Stella, where on earth did youfind this man?” April spoke her first words since entering,stared at them both, and then left the kitchen with apuzzled look.

Stella sighed inwardly. April was her wild card. Her reac-tions were unpredictable, and she often lit the fire of most oftheir arguments. But Stella prayed today would be different,or at least, uneventful.

Sharon had stood and observed from the doorway, but

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now she stepped forward and began loading the cookies ontocooling sheets.

Michael, apparently assuming the kitchen was too full ofwomen to stay, went to the living room, armed with a warmcookie Stella had put on a plate for him. Within moments,her home was abuzz with life, and the sisters, except April,all stayed and helped with the cooking while Sharonnarrated her conversion experience. They were in awe, andhugged and congratulated her when she finished speaking.

“There’s a Bible Believers journal that my church has. Ithas an app too. Every day, you get one scripture, memorize it,then during your quiet time, write ways to apply it to yourlife. It’s pretty cool, Sharon. I’ll get you one.” Erica had abond with Sharon from when she was little. Their faithdifferences notwithstanding, Erica was her favorite auntthough they rarely saw each other. They were bound to getcloser now.

“How are your flights these days? Any chance you mightget a desk job at the airline? You’re in the air too much.”Stella frowned over the complaint ringing in her own voice,but she was worried for Erica. As a professional flight atten-dant, Erica spent more days in the skies than she did onground. She studied Erica. She’d lost a little weight but stillsported a barely visible tiny nose ring stud.

Erica had weathered some storms, and she hated to judgeanyone whose shoes she had not worn. Everyone in theirfamily saw how she struggled with the life-threatening chal-


S

lenges she’d faced, but Stella was grateful Erica foughtprayerfully and made it through. Even her faith in God was amiracle too. Despite the nose stud, she knew Erica lovedChrist, and for Stella, that was enough.

“I love my job. I like being in the skies. Gives mefreedom.”

“I want to see you more often. Once a year is not enough.Perhaps, you could teach me how to fly,” Sharon chimedhopefully, while dicing peppers.

“Ah, cookie. I’ll see what I can do. Now, hand me the panand olive oil. I’ll teach you how to stir fry veggies withoutburning them.” With a wink, they got busy with the veggieswhile Stella lost herself in thought on what to do aboutMichael. Her heart had already stubbornly gone after theman. She was glad all her sisters were here. Maybe theycould help her through it? But she wasn’t even sure what totell them when she hadn’t sought God’s face yet about him.Either way, after Michael left, it was going to be a long night.

tella took her seat and laid out a napkin on her lap.“Stella, please say the grace.” Erica cast a smile as

Sharon lifted her spoon then placed it back on the utensilmat beside her plate. Sharon wasn’t used to meal prayers yet,but she was getting there.

The group of six gathered at the dining table, bowed

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their heads as soft Christian worship music played at thebackground from Stella’s radio in the kitchen. Was this adream? Her family gathered at one table, with Sharon saved,and them saying the grace. And then, there was Michael.

She smiled broadly and knew her smile could be heardin her words but didn’t care. She was happy, very happy.“Lord, may You bless this food we’re about to enjoy and makeit nourishing to us in Jesus’ name.”

“Amen” echoed around the table as everyone picked uptheir forks and spoons. There was more than enough foodfor twice as many, but Stella was so excited she had over-cooked and didn’t care. She doubted her sisters did either.Michael sat next to April, who sat next to Erica on one side.Sharon, Stella, and Summer occupied the other side so thatMichael faced Stella. Halfway through the baked potatoes,gravy, and grilled chicken, he turned to Erica. “So, you’re aflight attendant.”

Erica nodded. “American Airlines for twelve yearsrunning.”

“Whew.” Michael whistled. “That is a long time in theskies. I bet you enjoy it.”

Erica laughed softly. “Stella takes me to task about howlittle time I spend on the ground. But I’m really happy whenI’m up there. I fellowship with God in my heart and enjoy theview. You never know, you might spot an angel in the clouds.”

Michael laughed with her. “Um, sounds great. Although


some of us might prefer angels on land. Are you also basedin Maryland?”

Stella stopped her spoon midair. She knew the answerand with Michael’s background…

“No. Detroit is my home.”

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13

ichael’s eyes darted to Stella, and her heartjumped to her throat. Neither spoke.

Oblivious, Erica continued, “Sometimes Ifeel as if I’m wasting money having an apartment there. Ishould just stay in a hotel whenever I’m in town.”

But everyone else was either too busy with their dishes tochime into Erica’s contemplation, or feeling an underlyingimpact of her words, unknown to her.

Stella found her voice first, toying with her fork. “I’mthinking of sending Sharon to vacation with you for a fewdays next year.”

Sharon gasped and dropped her fork, bearing a huge

smile. “Really, Mom? I would like that!” She spun to Ericawith pleading eyes. “Please say yes, Aunt Ricky? Please.”

Erica laughed and took Sharon’s hand with one of hers.“Like I could ever say no to you, cookie.”

Erica winked at Stella. “Of course, that would be great.Just let me check my schedule in a couple of months whenI’d know for certain, and we can plan something. Actually,you can both come.” She turned to April and Summer. “Youtoo. We can have a mini-reunion.”

“I’m liking the idea.” Summer smiled. “In fact, if one of usis too busy, we can all gather at that person’s house for aweekend.”

Stella held up a hand. “Wait, to clarify, are we creatingsome kind of family tradition here?”

April folded her napkin after wiping her mouth. “I’m in.But you all know once there’s a case, I’m unavailable. Plus, Icould be called to a crime scene at odd hours. If you’re okaywith that, then we’re good.”

To say Stella was shocked was an understatement. She’dexpected April to shut the idea down as foolish, or get up andleave in her usual manner. Was God at work and mendingher family, drawing them closer for a divine purpose?

Michael shot her an approving look filled with admira-tion, like when he’d rescued her from Ruthless. She returnedhis smile.

“I guess we have it then. April, we all understand your job

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makes your schedule unpredictable, and we’d be happy towork with you on that.”

Summer spoke next. “Spring is tough because it’s apopular wedding season. But if you all are up for it, I canswing it. And if I have a wedding to plan that I can’t delegate,you’ll all come to me then. Wyoming is not that bad,you know.”

Laughter broke out around the table, Sharon andMichael joining in. Stella was so happy with the way thingswere going.

“So, let’s plan on August to September next year, tenta-tively. It will be off wedding season, hopefully not a busytravel period for Erica, and we’re hoping fewer crimes, right,April?”

“Crime rates typically soar in the summer, but,” Aprilsmiled, “let’s hope…”

More nods followed Stella’s suggestion as she tipped herjaw toward Erica. “Erica, you’ll play first host.”

Erica pulled her phone from beside her plate andentered a reminder for herself.

When Erica looked up, she nodded to Stella. “No, actu-ally. You played first host by getting us all here today. This isour first family Thanksgiving gathering in a long time. It’snot November, but this worked for us. We almost lost you,Stella. It’s time we spent more time together.”

April whistled. “This coming from the one Heart we can


almost never reach by phone, let alone in person!” April’sdarting tongue had returned.

The rest of the meal dwelled upon general chatter aboutthe weather. The ladies cleared the table, and Sharon andSummer offered to wash the dishes.

Stella sank into the white lounge chaise in the livingroom, glad to be off her feet. Erica headed outside for herjob-related conference call.

This left Stella alone with Michael. He observed her fromthe strategic view where he sat near the door. His face wasunreadable, and she hated having no idea what was going onbehind those eyes. She wanted to stretch their time together,but knew he would leave soon.

They chatted a little, and he rose and stood in front ofher. She rose too, on instinct. He took her hand and smiled.“I have to go. Here’s my number.” She gave him hers too.

“But I need to find out something first.”There it was. The moment she’d been dreading. She

wasn’t ready and didn’t know how to communicate it withoutthrowing him off.

“This past week has been crazy. But blessings have comeout of it. I’m so happy to have shared the moment of yourreunion with Sharon. I’m even happier about her faith. Now,I need to know. Do you think you could love me? Because Ilove you, and I want to know if this is a one-sided thing.”

Stella swallowed. If only she could escape the responsi-bility of this moment. “Michael, it’s complicated. Don’t get

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me wrong. I’m feeling what you’re feeling. I’m grateful for theway you’ve been there for me and taken to Sharon. I just… Ineed time. I need to process all of this. So much hashappened. This is uncommon ground. I’ve never had myfamily unified and complete in Christ until now. Can I havesome time to pray and think, please? I promise, I’m notstringing you along. I appreciate everything you haveconfided in me. Both about your past and how you feelabout me.”

He slid his hands into his pocket. “I understand. Takeyour time.”

With those burning words, she watched him leave. Hadshe made a mistake? She did what she knew was right for herat this moment, but... Lord, please guide me.

ichael tapped his black shoes on the tiled officefloor and ignored the irritation its clicking sound

made to his ears. His mind was swarming, and none of histhoughts were exactly pleasant.

Roger and Susanna Castro were the most loving parentsanyone could ask for. Yet a drunk driver hit them in a head-on collision, and now they were gone. The hard-hitting newsshocked him the night he got the call late January from themarshals.

He had insisted on attending their funeral even though


advised against it. He’d had the best parents. Yet he blamedhimself for leaving them for fifteen years.

Now, they had passed away, and their only requestthrough their lawyer, communicated through the marshalsto him, was that he attend their funeral and meet with thepastor of their local church, the meeting he was waiting forright now.

The meeting had been scheduled to happen right beforethe evening funeral service. People were already waiting inthe sanctuary but the pastor insisted Michael attend themeeting beforehand.

He’d said his late parents left something and wanted hisdecision before the funeral service. Whatever it was waitedwithin the pastor’s office right now, behind the closed browndoor he was staring at.

He nodded to acknowledge the secretary when their eyesmet, without returning her smile, which was not only highlyunusual for him, he’d never done it before. But this was anunusual circumstance.

He rose and smoothed his gray suit, which he only worewhen the occasion demanded it. He wished a better circum-stance necessitated it. Obviously, his parents had thoughtthis meeting important or they wouldn’t have asked him toshow up.

“Amazing Grace”, playing softly in the main sanctuary,filtered into the office, and Michael’s heart constricted. Thatwas his ma’s favorite song. She sang it through days when her

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arthritis worsened and her knees hurt. Even at a younger age,he knew when she was in pain, though she smiled or sangthrough it so he wouldn’t worry.

Michael exhaled long and stopped his foot tapping. Thiswas too much. Their loss hurt, and he felt it hard. He wishedhe’d had a chance for them to see the man their only childhad become. But life took his choice from him through nofault of his own. Now, he risked everything by coming backhere to Detroit, back to his old hood, back to where dangerhad sent him fleeing.

“He will see you now.” The secretary interrupted histhoughts, but the pastor was already coming out, handextended for a handshake.

“Pastor Mark here. Sorry for the wait.”The pastor had closed his doors after exiting. Michael’s

anxiety grew as he returned pleasantries. What did hisparents hide from him? They were upstanding citizens as faras he could tell. He never thought they’d have a secret so bigit could impact their family strongly. But now…now, he wasafraid he could be wrong. Whatever waited, he’d face it likea man.

“This might be hard to take in. Follow me.” The pastor’swords further unraveled Michael’s emotions. He hoped hecould hold it together until he had a moment to himself.

Following the pastor to his office, he pondered on thesecret lurking behind the closed door. “Thank you, PastorMark, and thanks for your message.”


Michael had been glad he had worn dark sunglasses thathid his eyes when he’d walked through the sanctuary.Chances that anyone recognized him were slim to none. Hewas sure of that.

When Pastor Mark twisted the knob to open his officedoors, Michael felt as though his heart was the one beingtwisted. He brought up the rear as the pastor made straightto his desk and stood behind it.

Three faces peered at Michael silently. Teenagers.The one sitting at the farthest end looked even younger.

Michael spun back to the pastor. So many questions burnedthrough him, but he chose the simplest.

“What is going on, Pastor Mark?”“Please have a seat, Michael.” Michael was about to say

he preferred standing, but he now had an audience of thethree children.

He reluctantly sat at the middle, flanked by two kids onone side, the third on his other.

Warring emotions—loss, heartache, regret—all swarmedat him, causing him to appear clipped.

“I told you he won’t like us,” one of the kids said.Pastor Mark held up a hand. “Okay, Tanner, not so fast.

He doesn’t know who you are, and he is grieving yourparents’ loss too.”

His parents were their parents? Michael wanted to flee.He had siblings he didn’t know about? He thought his momwas past childbearing age. His head swam.

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“Michael, meet your siblings. Their names are Tanner,Hunter, and Lucy.”

Michael gave a blank stare. None of this made sense.“They’re adopted,” Pastor Mark added. He must have

sensed Michael’s confusion.Michael nodded, his first real response. Pastor Mark

reached his desk and fetched a glass of water. “Youlook pale.”

Michael accepted it and gulped it down in two swallows.He placed the glass on a desk near him and used the time togather his nerves.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat.Pastor Mark retook his seat. “Michael, I know this has

come as a shock to you. Your parents indicated in their finalwishes they didn’t want you to find out at the funeral in thepublic eye. That’s why they insisted on a private meetingfirst.”

Pastor Mark glanced at the children then to Michael.“Tanner is sixteen, Hunter is fourteen, and Lucy is twelve.They will fill you in on how they came to be your parents’children. In the meantime, your mom was a good friend ofthis church. So was your dad. She’d shared with me thecircumstance leading to your leaving home years ago. Istrongly suggested she let you know when she first adoptedTanner and the others five years ago, but she adamantlyrefused.”

Michael gripped the Italian leather office seat’s handle.


“Now, with them gone, she said she trusted you to do theright thing. I’m not sure what that means. But the willreading is tomorrow at noon. I’ve been invited to attend. Wewill know more then. For now, I thought you should meeteach other first. I’m going to leave you all for five minutes,and then come for you as soon as the service is beginning.”Pastor Mark walked around, lips pressed tightly and pattedMichael on the arm.

He lowered his voice so only Michael could hear. “Keepan open mind, okay?” Confusion followed his words out ashe left and closed the door behind him.

Michael wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be where hewas ten minutes ago beyond those doors and ignorant ofwhat lay within it, or whether he was ready to embracethis news.

He observed Tanner seated closest to him. His curlyblack hair pointed in different directions—the young laddefinitely needed a haircut. He twisted his hands in his blackhoodie pouch, bunching and crunching the fabric over hisblue jeans. Some zits spotted his face. His bright purplesneakers needed retying. His hard-set jaw matched his face,like he’d gone through a lot in his young life.

He turned to Hunter on his other side. His shoulder-length, light-brown hair dropped wavy over his face. His blueeyes observed Michael and innocence shimmered in them.Lucy, next to Hunter, was tapping her shiny flat black shoeson the ground. Michael smiled. He’d found a foot-tapping

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ally in their fold. Her pink hair clip held together her curlyblack hair and kept its lengths from her face though a fewstrands dangled near her tearstained eyes.

A surge of emotion filled Michael’s heart with compas-sion for them—they appeared so lost and in need of a lovinghome. In his heart, he knew what his mom wanted him to do.He wasn’t sure he had what it took to do it. If he did, it wasgoing to take everything he had.


T

14

he magnitude of the potential responsibilityscared Michael, but if his suspicion proved right,and the reading of the will confirmed it tomorrow,

he could be in for a big life change. His mind flew unbiddento Stella. Almost four months had passed since he’d heardfrom her.

After they had given the police more information aboutwhat occurred at Nature’s Reserve in November, he didn’thear from her again. He had taken the risk of pouring out hisheart to her, and she had promised not to string him along.

Now, he wasn’t sure what to call the four-month-long lackof contact. If she chose that she was not ready, or interested,it was only fair to call him. Though, he knew in his heart her

rejection would crush him, so he wasn’t sure if he wanted tohear the answer if it was a no.

He focused again on the situation before him. “Hi, kids.We got off on the wrong foot here. Let me first say, how sorryI am about Dad and Mom.”

Lucy’s big brown eyes teared up. So did Michael’s. Thetwo boys lowered their heads, but Michael knew they cried.The sorrow seemed to bind them, but he had to finish hiswords before Pastor Mark returned.

“They were the most amazing parents. I wish I was herethen, but I am now.”

Tanner looked at him fully now, with hopeful green eyes.Michael acknowledged him, knowing this was tough for

him too. “I want you kids to know I’m here for you. If youneed anything, just tell me. If I don’t have it, I will try to get itfor you legitimately.”

But how long was he going to be here? These childrenlived here. He was in Maryland. How was he supposed tohelp them from afar? Lord, please tell me, or show me whatto do.

“Thank you.” Lucy’s soft voice warbled.She rose, walked over, and stood in front of him though

her eyes appeared as though she studied his intentions andheart. Then as if her mind was made up, she offered herhand. Michael took it and gave her a side hug. He wiped thetear that dropped down her cheek as one dropped down his.


He let the reins of his tears go, just momentarily, enough forhis grief not to swallow him up inside.

Hunter joined them and held out his hand too, andMichael shook it. “Hey, buddy.” His voice sounded choked.

Tanner was the last to come around. He was closeenough to reach out a hand while sitting, for a fist bump.Michael quickly adjusted from a handshake and bumped hishand with Tanner’s.

“Thanks, man.” Obviously, Tanner considered himself aman more mature than his sixteen years.

Michael wasn’t going to argue. He nodded. “You’rewelcome, buddy.”

The door squeaked as Pastor Mark peered inside, and hisface melted with a smile. “I guess you’re all getting to knoweach other. Would you join us now to pay our final respectsto your parents, please?”

Michael held the door as they each walked through. Helooked them each in the eye, acknowledging them, andsilently letting them know, this was their combined loss andthey’d get through it together. Pastor Mark lagged behinduntil they almost entered the sanctuary. He pulled Michaelaside and encouraged him as his emotions bubbled close tothe surface again.

Lucy began to cry aloud as soon as they came into view ofboth caskets, and the sound wrenched Michael’s heart tobits. He took her small hand again and squeezed it, and shecollapsed into his arms and wept even more.

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An usher led them to the first row reserved for family andclose friends. A few familiar faces stared at him from bothsides of the Castro family. Aunt Evie, his late mom’s sisterwho lived in a nursing home leaned on her walker. UncleSanders, his dad’s half-brother, now so elderly he saw withonly one eye. Finally, Mr. Rich, his dad’s former boss beforehe retired from the railway system. Michael’s heart swelledwith pride over the kind of parents he was blessed with. Hepressed his lips tight as the service began with songs by thechoir, and silently promised to do whatever his mom consid-ered the right thing for their family.

he smell of roasted pumpkin and cinnamon pervadedMichael’s senses as he joined the youth in the living

room, already seated with their parents’ lawyer.This was home. This was where he’d enjoyed so much

love. Now, it stood empty of the ones who’d made it a lovingplace. His swollen eyelids—thanks to his night of crying—matched those of Tanner, Hunter, and Lucy when he’darrived this morning from his hotel.

He learned from Hunter that a kind woman from thechurch, a close family friend had cared for the kids sinceMom and Dad passed away. She left as soon as Michaelarrived in order to meet her kids before they entered theschool bus two blocks away. Michael had needed the night


alone to pray through his pain, loss, and options. He knewwhat God was leading him to do—he just wasn’t sure he wasup for it. He also didn’t want to jump to conclusions untilthey read the will.

Two ladies from the church dropped off food baskets forthe kids one hour earlier and promised to bring more later,knowing they were skipping school for a couple of days forunderstandable reasons.

They all sat in the dining area, waiting for Pastor Markwho had to make an unscheduled visit to someone at thehospital.

Michael glanced around. Not much had changed in thehouse. The orange couch where his mom usually knitted hada throw on it. He assumed the throw was hers. His dad’sbrown loveseat by the TV had a rickety arm, but it wasn’t forlack of money. The man didn’t like change, and he didn’tthrow stuff away until they were completely useless. Thatwas his style.

It felt like ages since he’d last sat in these chairs, butthose earlier times remained stamped in his memory. Howcould he forget? The gruff voice with which his dad offeredremarks to no one in particular while reading newspaperswhen he returned from work in the evenings…all so unfor-gettable.

He especially enjoyed when he called Michael to watchthe news with him or when they watched a game together.The dining table was where his mom spread out her tools

156 JOY OHAGWU

and learned to knit from a craft magazine. Even now, in a trayat the center, an unfinished knit lay undisturbed.

Her tea tablecloth still rested beside it, and a book layfacing down like it was in the middle of being read. Somecoffee stains darkened the carpet leading away from thedining room into the kitchen area. Dad had mentioned longago that he was going to take care of those stains. Michaelmade a mental note to add it to his to-do list. Even better,replace the carpet. But was he staying here and how longbefore he left?

He rose and glanced around, suddenly wanting to engagehis hands. “Anyone want something to drink? I’m going tomake some tea.” He still remembered where the kitchen was.

Hunter turned to Lucy. “You should let Lucy do it. She’s apro. Seriously.”

Michael frowned but obliged. “All right then. But I canmake it with her.” Both boys stood up when Lucy did, leavingonly the lawyer seated. Clearly, Michael wasn’t the onlyantsy one.

Without another word, they converged on the vintagekitchen, and again, fond memories flooded Michael. But hepushed them to the back of his mind so sorrow wouldn’toverpower him. He just wanted to make a cup of tea in hisparents’ home, and that was what he’d do.

Between the clatter of spoons being dropped into cups,Lucy smiled to him. “Mom talked about you.”


“A lot,” Tanner echoed with slumped shoulders and eyedMichael.

Michael wasn’t sure whether this pleased or irkedTanner. He personally didn’t think he’d left a good examplethat he would recommend for anyone to follow. “Well, goodthings I hope?” He also hoped the strain in his voice didn’tshow. Considering he’d proved both bad at first and good atlast, the character revelation pendulum could swingeither way.

“She always said, ‘Tanner, John would have done thisright. John’s responsible. Be like John.’” Tanner’s grainy toneworried Michael. “All day long. And now, here you are.” Theburning pain in his eyes nearly scorched Michael.

Being judged and held to a pedestal you felt you couldnever achieve was a setup for failure. How would he commu-nicate this to one so young and clearly hurting?

“Tanner, you don’t need to be like me.” Michael laid ahand on the kitchen counter and lowered himself to the boy’sfive-foot-six frame. “Matter of fact, I don’t want you to be likeme. I wasn’t very good until I received Christ. Be you. Evenbetter, be like Jesus. Copy Him. He is our perfect example.No human being can live up to perfection on his own power.You’d lose the fight even in your thoughts alone. You needJesus to help you live a life worthy of emulation.”

Tanner turned away, and as far as Michael could tell, hewas neither displeased nor relieved. Something bothered theboy, and anger was surely brimming beneath the surface. He

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was fighting his inner battles, but with his own strength,thinking he was enough to handle himself.

Michael knew all too well where that path led. He pattedTanner on his shoulder and lifted the tray of tea Lucy hadmade for them. “Great job, Lucy. These look good.”

Lucy seemed to be a wonder in the kitchen. Hunter wasright. Lucy said she learned how to cook, bake, and grill fromMom and Dad and would rather be in the kitchen thananywhere else, though she said she made good grades.Judging from these cups of tea she’d made, she had some-thing good going for her. As they reentered the dining roomthe doorbell rang, and the lawyer went for it.

“Perfect timing.” Sounded from the hallway as Michaeland the kids took their previous seats. When both the lawyerand Pastor Mark joined them, it was clear from his red eyesthat he’d had a rough night too.

The lawyer pressed his lips in impatience, or was it disap-proval? He then scratched his beard. “I’ll go over the basiclegal rules. Then I’m delving into the will.”

Michael shifted. “Okay.”“Mr. and Mrs. Carlos made some things pretty clear. Now

I can read the basic text, including legal jargon, or I can giveyou copies, tell you what it says, and you can decide. Espe-cially you, Michael. You’ve got a big decision.”

Anxious to get on with unraveling the unknown, Michaelswallowed. “Go ahead.” This anxiety was killing him already.

All these insistent warnings from the lawyer could be to


prepare him for a rude awakening—a rehash of what aterrible son he’d been to Roger and Susanna Carlos. To facereality, if he was half as attentive as these kids when he wastheir age, he’d probably have stuck around. Maybe helpedDad, cared for Mom. He furrowed his brow and blew a hotbreath between sips.

The lawyer, Mr. Vasquez, peered at them all.“Shall we start?” He pulled sheets of paper, a notepad,

and a sealed envelope, then tore the envelope open andbegan to read.

Michael paid attention to every word.When he was done, everyone sat back—some in shock

and surprise—but the will confirmed Michael’s suspicion.He was ready to obey his parents’ last wishes even if itkilled him.

“Is everyone agreed?”Mr. Vasquez’s inquiring gaze brought back Michael to the

present. He peered at Michael through black-rimmed lenseswhile his long dark beard heightened his pensive look.“Michael, this is a big step your parents asked of you. As theystated, you are not under pressure. Can you do it? I’m sureeveryone will understand if you need time to think beforereaching a decision, considering your special circumstance.I’m sure you’re not here to stay permanently.”

Michael blinked. “My mind is made up.”Everyone turned to him. He didn’t look at her, but he

didn’t miss how Lucy clutched a hand to her chest, anxious.

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Was this what it was like not to know where the road led as achild? Leaving home as an adult was tough enough for him.In his own small way, he would save these kids the trouble ofuncertainty. “I will adopt them, all of them. If they eachconsent. That is what Mom wants, and it’s what I will do.”

Lucy’s loud exhale could not be missed, but whenMichael caught her gaze, he wasn’t entirely sure joy and glad-ness was what he saw. A cloud hovered there. But what wasit? He hoped he was making a decision that was goodfor them.

Tanner rose and left.Pastor Mark rose as well. “I guess I’m no longer needed

here. What you did is brave. I was asked to inform socialservices of them as wardens of the state if you refused toadopt them, but since you’re ready to do so, I’ll be on standbyif anything changes.”

He shook hands with both Michael and the lawyer andleft. The lawyer promised to get in touch with the Depart-ment of Social Services to start the adoption process. He alsosaid Michael needed to decide if he was staying in Detroitwith the kids or if they were all moving. If they stayed inDetroit, they’d be the Carlos, in Maryland, the Huddlestons.He needed a response within one week to complete thepaperwork.

After he left, Michael stayed with the kids, and he gath-ered them together in the living room. He needed to learntheir daily routines so he could help them get ready for


school and church. Tanner said he didn’t go to church.Michael took note but said okay. Soon they were immersedin planning their lives going forward and putting their painbehind them the best they could.

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“H

15

ey, how was school today? What do you havethere?” Michael rose from a squat and wipedhis hands with a grease-stained towel,

tossing it into the repair tools box he’d carried from thebasement.

Lucy twisted the envelopes, faced them away fromMichael, and tossed them into her school backpack. She hadjust returned from her first day back at school and appearedexhausted. Michael understood how tough education at herage was. It was less about the academics and more aboutother kids’ attitudes. Some were just mean.

“Nothing.” One week after the will reading and they wereyet to come to a consensus about the adoption and where

they would live. Each child was free to choose. Everyone saidyes to adoption except Tanner. He said nothing. He juststormed around the house when he was there, avoidedMichael, and left the first chance he got. Michael worriedfor him.

“Lucy?” Michael took his workman gloves he had beenwearing when he went to fix the water pump from the diningtable and tossed them on a seat by the doorway. The gloveswere similar to the ones his dad used to fit in when he stilllived here. Weird how life sprang family roles with time.

Lucy shrugged and started toward her bedroom upstairs.“Letters from my school.”

“What do they say?” Michael pressed.Lucy had changed since they read the will. She still

respected Michael, but some sort of coldness overcast herattitude. What he’d done to cause it, he couldn’t figure out.Tanner, on the other hand, had come home late two nights ina row, after he’d told Michael the day he’d moved from thehotel to the house, that their parents insisted on a nine-o’-clock curfew. Tanner came home at ten the night before andten thirty the prior night. When Michael had pushed for areason, he said he was busy but didn’t say with whator whom.

Michael was starting to feel the pressure of parenting. Itwas going to be a tough road and learning curve for all ofthem. He wasn’t even sure he was doing things right. He

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“M

wished he could call Stella and talk to her with her longerparenting experience, but it was not an option.

He sighed. He wasn’t going to drag her into his world ifshe didn’t want to be a part of it.

“An invitation to PTA, for Dad. And an invitation towatch my soccer game. They probably printed this a fewweeks ago before…”

He knew what she meant as she strode to her roomwithout another word.

He crossed his hand over his head, closed his eyes, andexhaled long. He needed to call his handler at the USMarshal Service and explain the developments. This wasgetting harder to figure out alone. He needed to know whathis feasible options were that involved having the kids withhim. With those thoughts, he dozed off.

ichael’s missing.”Static sounded over the lines as Stella tried to

focus above the noise of the deep fryer browning chicken.She was running late for a new colleague’s baby shower atthe community college where she’d just begun to teach nurs-ing. The chicken was ready to be flipped, just when the callcame in.

Stella struggled to focus. What did the person say again?She swiped sweat off her brow. Michael was missing? The


news settled into her conscious mind and drew a sharp gaspout her throat. She rushed out of the kitchen with the deepfryer prongs in one hand, and the phone craned between herneck and shoulder.

“Did you say Michael’s missing?” She dropped the prongsonto the dining table and grabbed the phone with her hand.“Wait, I’m sorry, who are you again?” She yanked off herapron and tossed it into the arm of the living room couch justbefore she sank into it. Lord, if this is a dream, let me wake up.I’m not liking this at all.

The young feminine voice came on with pressingurgency. Her harsh breathing rushing over the airwaves. “I’mLucy, Michael’s sister.”

Sobs interrupted in the background, and Stella strainedto hear in order to identify what she was hearing. These crankcallers have gotten smarter these days.

“Okay, Lucy, or whoever you really are, why not call thecops?” That should be the logical step if that were the case—if Michael was missing. Stella refused to consider it a possi-bility. Matter of fact, after this call was done, she was callingMichael to tell him to watch out about what prank callerswere saying about him. She’d avoided reaching out to himuntil now, but this crossed the line. She needed to warn him.

For now, perhaps, she could teach this prankster, whosounded so young, a lesson. Pranking strangers was wrong. Ashuffle sounded in the background of the caller. Then loudcrying ensued.

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“This is all my fault. I messed up, and I called him tocome get me. And now he’s missing. What do I do?” Thespeaker in the background broke into louder sobs. Was itpossible this was real? Breath caught in her throat over theslight possibility that this wasn’t a prank call.

“Lucy,” the male voice continued. “Lucy, hang up and callthe marshal. He should be able to find him. His card is onMichael’s dresser. I saw it there last night when I came home.He left a voicemail for Michael on the house phone. Callhim.” Rustling followed at that end, and bewildermenttrailed it into Stella’s heart. Mention of a marshal had Stellareconsidering her earlier judgment.

His status as a protected witness wasn’t somethingMichael was keen on sharing at random. Something wascertainly out of place. She was going to kick this up a notchto test their sincerity.

“Lucy? What’s your address? How did you get mynumber? And why did you call me if Michael is missing?”Lot of questions, but Stella wanted answers to them all.

“Um, it’s 348 Blueside Court.”This voice was quite young, probably a teen. Stella

frowned, her confusion deepening.Lucy hesitated then added, “Michael gave me your

number last night for my school. I needed an alternate emer-gency contact number. I told him I preferred a female friendof his, if he had any. So he gave me your number and told meonly to call you in an emergency. I didn’t see him this morn-


ing. And Tanner said he called Michael to come get him latelast night and he said okay but didn’t reach there. So Tannercaught a ride and came home, but it’s morning now and yetMichael is not here. We called his cell phone, and it said thenumber is not available for calls, which is a lie. So I knowsomething is wrong. I can feel it in my heart.”

Stella was getting convinced. She committed the addressto memory. She’d never heard of the place. The addresssounded strange, but surely, it was close since Michael livedin Northern Maryland. But she had to be sure exactly where.“What’s the city, Lucy?”

“Detroit. Detroit, Michigan.”Stella choked on her next words in shock. Michael went

back to Detroit? In that case, something was terribly wrong.“Sorry,” the young girl calmly offered. She was kind, but

Stella’s head was spinning. Did Michael leave Marylandbecause of her? Because he assumed she’d rejected him anddidn’t want to be in the same area? But would that alonemake him endanger his life? She didn’t think so. More ques-tions swirled, but she had to confirm what she heard.

“Lucy, did you say Michigan?” Michael told her he was anonly child. Now, he had a sister? Things didn’t make sense.Of course, his parents could have had more children after heleft. The way Michael narrated, it sounded unlikely, butanything was possible. But if Michael was missing, whydidn’t Lucy call them instead? Weren’t the parents there?

Stella didn’t know what to think anymore. Before she had

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a chance to follow through on her next question, a rush of airwhooshed on Lucy’s end.

“Lucy! We got to go. I called the marshal, and he calledthe police. They found Michael’s car early this morning onDurang Avenue. He said the door was open, but Michaelwasn’t there.” A click, and the line went dead.

Stella did the next thing that occurred to her. She calledMichael’s number. It didn’t ring. Instead, she got the samemessage Lucy indicated earlier. Panic rose in her as shepressed End on the call.

Stella stared at her cell phone like it was a strange object.“Mom, are you all right? You look white as a sheet.”

Sharon walked over, took the phone, and placed it on theside table and sat.

Stella gripped her hand and stared at her through a mist.“Michael might be missing.”

Sharon frowned and shrank back. “Who told you, Mom?Where?”

Stella didn’t want to get dissuaded if she spilled thedetails. Knowing Sharon, she’d pass it off as a prank call andprobably get offended that her mom was getting worked upover nothing. So Stella ignored her first question.“Michigan.”

Sharon hesitated. “But he lives here in Maryland. Whatwas he in Michigan for?”

Stella wasn’t sure how much she wanted to reveal just yet.She had planned to tell Sharon everything she’d learned


about Michael’s past if they were moving forward with a rela-tionship. She had also planned to call Michael this week tosay she believed it was God’s will for them to be in a relation-ship after praying and receiving peace in her heart.

But she’d waited too long. She’d wanted to secure a jobfirst, to take care of her means of livelihood since her term atthe hospital’s research program ended four months ago. Itwasn’t until last week that she’d received the offer from theCentral Community College, and she accepted and startedthis week. But four months had gone by. She wasn’t sure howto go about explaining things to him.

“Sharon, I’m going to Detroit. I’ll head to the airport rightaway. Call April since she lives barely thirty minutes away atLa Plata. Ask if you can stay with her for a couple of days.”

Burned smell filtered in from the kitchen, and Stellajerked her head. “The chicken!”

Both rose sharply, raced into the kitchen. The chickenhad burned black. Stella turned off the stove as Sharonmoved the deep fryer from the burner onto a cool stovetop.They gingerly gripped the foiled legs, lifted the chicken, andlowered it into the metal trashcan.

Sharon looked at Stella and waved her away. “I’ll takecare of this and call to let them know you’ll miss the babyshower. You go. I’ll be fine. Keep me updated.”

Stella hugged her. “You’re the best daughter. Pray he’sokay. I’ll explain when I can.” Stella kissed Sharon’s cheekand hurried out of the kitchen.

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A

A half hour later, she’d quickly bathed while Sharonsecured her a taxi to the airport. She hopped in and arrivedat the Thurgood Marshall airport within minutes. The ticketwas pricey. But this was an emergency and under shortnotice, so she understood. The flight she boarded took littletime in arriving to Detroit.

Father, please save Michael wherever he is. Please, Jesus…Stella prayed as her flight touched ground at Detroit Metroin two hours.

rriving at Detroit’s Metro airport was not as hectic asshe’d thought. Though the brilliant lightshow at the

arrival concourse was enough to make anyone enjoy thescenery, something more serious occupied Stella’s mind.Knowing Detroit was a connecting airport for internationalflights, Stella was glad she only had a carry-on with a fewclothes and toiletries tossed inside.

Mom, I’ve reached Aunt April’s. Have you landed?Sharon’s text brought some measure of peace as Stella

made her way to the exit. At least, Sharon was at April’s.Whether April was home or off processing some crimescene, Stella wasn’t sure. She typed a response back. Yes, I justarrived, my dear. Leaving the airport now. I will text you when Iget to the address. Keep praying.

A quick reply followed. Ok. Praying. Be safe.


Stella had given Sharon the address Lucy had provided,just in case. She bit her lip. Since she was in Detroit, sheshould call Erica. Detroit was her base, but who knew whatpart of the world she was at right now? Sometimes she calledStella from Paris, and by nighttime the following day, shewould be in Thailand. So no one ever counted on her avail-ability.

But, who knew? She could attempt calling her at least.Stella stopped near an entrance and scrolled through thecontacts on her phone, selecting Erica’s. She dialed her, tooka seat, and waited as it rang a couple of times. Surprise liftedher lips when it got picked up.

“What’s up, sis?” A loud yawn followed, and Stellasmiled.

“Are you in the US, Erica?”A sigh echoed through the phone. Then another yawn,

shorter this time. “I took a few days of leave—one week—and I’m spending it at home in Detroit. But it’s too cold to goanywhere, and it will snow soon. This is only day two, and Ithink I’ve slept enough to last me one month! I’ll go stretchmy legs somewhere later. Anyway, what’s going on with you?”

Guilt snapped through Stella as she realized she almostmissed Erica had she not called. Plus, her sister wouldn’tforgive her when she later learned that Stella had come toher base city and not called at least. “I’m in Detroit.”

A sharp intake of breath sounded. “Wait. You’re here?Why? Is Sharon okay?” Stella wasn’t surprised by her reac-

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tion. Stella wasn’t the traveler of the family. Erica was. Stellawas the homey one who seldom went anywhere. And shewasn’t surprised when Erica’s first thoughts went to Sharon.The two were now as tight as bunnies.

“Yeah, she’s fine. It’s my friend, Michael. Remember him?I learned he was in Detroit when his sister called to tell mehe was missing.”

“I remember him all right. Oh my.” Erica’s voice rang outclearly, showing that she was now fully awake. Such newscould jolt anyone no matter how sleepy. “Did they callthe cops?”

Same reaction I’d had. “I heard they were calling USMarshals. Michael is a protected witness.”

Stella had told Sharon everything she knew aboutMichael, including his status as a protected witness beforeshe left Maryland. That was the one detail she had earlierheld onto. She had talked with Sharon a few days earlier,when she received confirmation from God as a go-ahead on arelationship with him. She wanted to be sure Sharon wasokay with Michael becoming a part of their lives, and poten-tially a part of their family.

Sharon was excited. She said she wished Stella had saidsomething sooner. She could have invited Michael for theirChristmas celebration. But Stella told her she’d neverintended to move forward with Michael until she was sure hewas what God intended for her, and for them.

“I’m not sure if this situation has anything to do with it.


So I came here to find out for myself and to help in any wayI can.”

Rustling came through the phone. “Give me the address.I’m coming.”

Stella had suspected she’d say that. “Erica, I’m still notsure what is going on. You sure you want to get involved?”

Erica hissed. “Stella, if you’re involved, I’m involved. Weall are. Now don’t make me pull out my hair out of boredom.So yes, I’m coming. By the way, buy thicker hats and scarf.This is mid-February, and Detroit is hotter than hot in thesummer, and chiller than the North Pole in winter. At least itfeels that way to a lot of us. Stay warm, okay? I’ll be coming alittle later to the address after you. It sounds like it’s an hourfrom me and, in this weather, could take me a while to getthere.”

Stella was already feeling the impact of the chill thoughstill inside. “All right. See you soon.”

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S

16

tella had ignored the winter weather advisorywarning. But standing in this bungalow’s front yard,with a strong winter wind gust threatening to blow

the new scarf off her face, she reconsidered her initial reluc-tance to wear the thick, ski-worthy blue gloves she justbought and slid them on fast.

As she waved away the taxi that brought her here and heslid back into the road, she noticed the scarcity of peoplearound. Must be the weather. She pulled the thick and snug,white winter hat she’d also gotten at the airport lower overher forehead to press back the biting cold. Her fingers stillhadn’t recovered from the few seconds of exposure to the

wintry blast. Talk about cold—Detroit gave the word newmeaning.

The local weather channel at the airport had predictedsnowfall, and the flakes were already dusting her knee-length, honey-brown winter coat. Several inches werepredicted to follow. It was barely noon, and she hoped tohave checked out the address and be gone by then.

Maryland had seen cold winters, but Detroit’s cold feltharsh to the skin of her face, the only part of her not covered.She’d spent her taxi ride praying. For her time in Detroit, forMichael, and for his safe return if he was truly missing.

Not wanting to waste more time, Stella ascended thestairs to the oak door of the middle-class home. She heldonto the white, painted-metal railing and backed from thedoorway to drag her carry-on up them.

“US Marshals! Hold it there!”Stella twisted at the shout followed by hasty steps from

the side of the house. The sudden move landed her on herback, hands flush with the ground, her blue gloves pickingup dampness. She rose slowly.

An armed man, in full tactical gear, rushed toward her.Weapon drawn. “Raise your hands where I can see them.”

She dusted wet snow from her hands and blew wisps ofhair off her face. Ignoring the pain shooting up her leg fromthe fall, she did as he ordered. Another man, also in all-blacktactical gear, sprinted from the other side. The firstapproached closer, his weapon still aimed, and Stella

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remained still, hands raised, her favorite black purse on theground.

“Don’t. Move.”This was really happening. Apprehension kept Stella still

rather than fear. “I’m a friend of Michael’s—John’s—which-ever you call him. Lucy, his sister, called me. She said he wasmissing.” She exhaled a quick breath as more snow fell, nowas steady flakes, and she craved warm indoors. “I’m here tohelp find him.”

By her words, Stella had revealed enough to widen thearmed man’s eyes. He took both her hands down, but didn’trelease one of them. His serious blue eyes bore into hers ashe maintained an equally cool demeanor. Dark circlessmudged beneath his eyes, and his nose had reddened. Stellahated getting roughed up in a strange city, but it did confirmLucy’s story. Michael must be missing.

“Who are you?”He waited for her response, slowly letting go of her hand.

She was almost sure he’d prefer to check out her story first,before letting her into the house. But she was freezing. Herlips trembled as she answered, hoping it would be enough.“I’m Stella Heart.”

He eyed her as he replaced his weapon and shouted anAll Clear. “How do you know Michael?”

With definite skepticism, he eyed her. She tipped herchin higher. “We’re friends.”

He inched up his brow so she explained further. “I


survived the earthquake in Maryland four months ago.While I fled the disaster, I met Michael, and he saved my lifemore than once. We became friends along the way.” Noreason to reveal that they hadn’t been in touch for months.She was trying to plead her case not shoot herself in the leg.

“Why else would I be here?”He exhaled as though deliberating on her response. He

pressed a hand to an earpiece momentarily then lowered hishand. He had to be freezing just as much as she was, judgingfrom the frosty puffs he kept blowing into the air.

“It appears Michael didn’t have many friends, if at all.The expectation was, he didn’t get too close to anyone if hecould help it. For him to have given you his original namemeans he trusted you with his life. So forgive our surprise.You can give us the details you know about his recent rela-tionships as they could prove vital.” He scooped her purse offthe ground while she straightened her fallen-over carry-on.Then he waved her toward the doorway, leading her in. “Youmay enter.”

“Is he really missing?” Sweet, cinnamon-and-raisin-scented air pervaded Stella’s nostrils as they entered. Herbelly growled.

The frown on his forehead creased further. “Yes. Unfortu-nately. Come with me.”

She followed him into the living room where moremarshals clattered with different equipment. A monitorshowed the front of the house. She tugged off her gloves as

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the warmth seeped into her fingers slowly. This wasMichael’s original home. How sad that he didn’t bring herhere by himself.

The marshal pointed to a seat, and Stella sat. The samemarshal who’d surprised her outside came around and wentover to the TV.

“Who are you guys?” Just to be clear.His eyebrows shot up, and his brown hair tumbled over

his neck as he removed his protective helmet. “US Marshalsspecialized in Witness Protection.” He showed his credentialsthen sunk into a loveseat. “Michael has been with us forabout fifteen years. I’m not his original handler. I’m taskedwith finding him.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “He told me.”The marshal regarded her, his curiosity obviously

piqued. She knew too many intimate details about Michaelto be simply a friend. “Michael and I were in the process ofbecoming more than just friends. We’d been through a lottogether in a short time and things moved fast—really fast.So, I asked him for time to think and pray.”

She pressed her lips together and suppressed a cry.“Maybe I took too long.” Was she one of the reasons he wasmissing? She couldn’t bear it if that was the case.

If she would tell herself the truth, she initially held outon Michael for fear of losing him as she had lost herhusband. Now, after obtaining God’s direction, she realizedher fear. How much loss would her heart endure before it


found peace? Would Michael be found alive? And if so,would he ever be the same again? Or would the experiencescar him irreversibly?

She wasn’t sure she was ready to embrace the answers tothese tough questions. So she prayed in her heart and choseto take baby steps forward, to build her hope and courageinside.

“Where’s Lucy?” Stella just remembered her. Shescanned the house for any sign of a child.

The marshal rose. “We’ve moved her and her brothers toa safe place. Glad Tanner called when he did. Let’s hope itwas soon enough.”

He rubbed his neck, like he was deciding whether to tellher more. There were brothers too? Stella knew the marshalwas the wrong one to ask her next question but couldn’thelp it.

“How many siblings?” She was pushing his graciousoblige. She knew it from the way he observed her and howlong he took to answer.

“Three. Lucy and two boys. Lucy is the youngest.”Stella made a mental note to tell the marshal about Erica

who was on her way there. She’d hate to see her go throughsuch a rough reception. “What’s your name?”

At least, she needed to know who she’d been speakingwith. “US Marshal Jim Denison.” He stretched out his handagain, but this time for a handshake.

Stella attempted a smile. “Nice to meet you. Have you had

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any leads yet in finding Michael?” She had to stick to hermission here. Michael was her concern.

He released her hand quickly and grabbed a notepad.“We’re searching everywhere for him. His car was foundabandoned at a railroad crossing with the driver’s door ajar.It’s now in a crime-scene lab, and they’re doing everythingthey can to gather evidence we could use to determine hiswhereabouts.”

He rubbed his nose. “The guy he helped us put away iscurrently in jail and has denied having anything to do withMichael’s disappearance. And we believe him. He has had nocontact with the outside—except his wife six months ago. Webelieve him not involved in this.”

The marshal ran a hand through his hair and sent locksscattering in waves over his forehead. “Frankly, we’re at adead end. Anything you can share to help us will be great.”

But Stella knew only one thing could help her help themnow, and it wasn’t here. “I’m ready to help you. Take methere.”

Marshal Jim arched a brow. “Where?”Stella nodded and rose. “To where he disappeared.

Maybe I can recognize something. I lived with him for a littlewhile. I mean, we weren’t coupling, but we were in the samespace so maybe…” She let it trail off and hoped her despera-tion didn’t show.

Marshal Jim hesitated as he slipped a sheet into an opengreen file on the table and closed it. “That isn’t standard


protocol. We typically don’t expose crime scenes to civilians.But since we’re scouting information, I’ll consider you aresource to the case. Come.”

Before they left the house in an unmarked law enforce-ment vehicle, Marshal Jim and another marshal dressed infull tactical gear again led Stella out of the house. Only whenthey were outside and a taxi was stopping in front of thehouse did she remember. “Oh, sorry, my sister—”

But Marshal Jim was already approaching Erica with hisweapon raised soon after she alighted and shut the taxi’sdoors. Erica shrank back and shrieked.

“She’s my sister! I asked her here. Erica, they’re USMarshals searching for Michael.”

Erica’s shoulders slumped, and she looked Marshal Jimin the eye. “What a way for an introduction to America’sfinest.”

She stretched out her hand. “Erica Heart. Stella’s sister.”She held it up as Marshal Jim stared at it, lowered hisweapon, and slowly took it.

“Marshal Jim Denison.”They stood for seconds too long considering each other,

and Stella huffed. “Are you two going to keep standing there,measuring pants, or can we get on with Michael’s search?”

That did the trick. Erica strode to Stella for a hug, andMarshal Jim headed to bring the vehicle. Stella and thesecond marshal climbed into the rear.

Erica jumped into the front seat before Marshal Jim

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could protest. She held his gaze across the driver’s seat. “Youhave a spare seat. And I’m coming. I’m not waiting behind.Who knows? There could be something I can help with.”

Clearly, her arrival changed everything because MarshalJim looked about ready to explode. The fury in his eyes saidas much. Instead, he smiled, slammed the gear into drive,and roared into the road. “As long as you stay out of my way.”

What was going on between the virtual strangers?Marshal Jim caught Stella’s gaze via the rearview mirror.

“Tell me everything you can about Michael. Leavenothing out.”

Stella sighed. “Sure, but I can’t guarantee it will help.”He nodded. “The smallest clues have broken cold cases.

You never know what could help. So, everything, please. Andthank you.”

ou took my husband from me.”A cough racked Michael’s body, and he doubled

over. Pain seared his lungs, and the very breath he drew hurtlike flames were held to them. He hunched over, his eyeslevel with the red, high-heeled shoes of his kidnaper. Hisgaze inched from her shoes, over her straight black pants, toher gray turtleneck sweater and her face. His inquiring gazemet hardened ice-cold eyes, and he looked away.

“When I heard news of your parents’ passing, the cheese


bait was set. I figured it was only a matter of time for the ratto come out of its hole. And all I had to do was wait. Thenyou showed up at the church with sunshades.” Brittlelaughter followed. “I’ve waited a long time so spotting youwasn’t that hard. I can pick you out of a thousand.”

He knew her—somehow. He couldn’t place exactlywhere. As he willed his mind to solve the puzzle, he felt thefloor behind him. Cold dark wood. He glanced beyond thewoman to the frame of where he was. A wooded cabin. Butwhere?

“Go ahead. Say it.” She took two steps back, pinned herhand on her slim waist. The coldness of the ground and inthe air sent shivers down his arm. The only thing colder washer frigid gray gaze as it bore into his, challenging him.

He wasn’t going to play her game. Where were the kids?“Say what?”

Did she hurt them too?A meager pile of wood lay in a corner about six feet from

where she stood, but only dry ash remained in the fireplace.A pendulum clock swung to chime an hour as Michaelsquinted. Eight o’clock. If it was correct.

The dark shadows outside that he gleaned through asection of the window not blocked by the petite figuretowering above him suggested the clock was right. It wasnight. Which day? How long had he been here? What hadshe done to him? What did she plan on doing?

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“That you’re scared. That you don’t know what’s going tohappen. That you don’t know who I am.”

A trickle ran down the corner of his mouth. His attemptto wipe it met with a yank of chains binding his hands.

He glared at his captor, certain the brunette hair shesported was a wig. He yanked at the chains. “Let me go.”

She laughed hard, lowered herself so they were at eyelevel, and glared at him. “Not going to happen. I didn’t takeyou to get anything from you. I took you to kill you.”

As she began to rise, Michael butted his head againsthers. Hard. So hard she toppled backward, only to catchherself by slamming her hands on the floor.

She rose with a shrill laugh but pressed a hand to wherehe was sure it hurt. “You just had to do that, didn’t you? Well,within forty-eight hours, you can’t do such ever again.”

That was the moment Michael realized who she was, thereason why she’d taken him, and fear gripped his heart like avice. Jesus, save me.

Snow drifts that had paused earlier, resumed and waftedlazily around the faces of all four standing near the railway

crossing, its barricades hanging high up. Thankfully, thesnow wasn’t falling too strongly. But the cold was still bitter

to endure.


“W ait,” Marshal Jim instructed as Stella squatted toobserve the ground. He handed her a pair of

examination gloves and asked her to put them on prior totouching anything. She exchanged them for her warm bluegloves. She was only going to feel the ground for a fewminutes. Any longer and she doubted she’d be able to feelanything at all, thanks to the freezing weather. Vapor fromher long exhale colored the air white.

“This was where the suspected assailant’s car stopped.The hood was propped when we came and the area wasprocessed as a crime scene before both vehicles got moved.”

But Stella was only partly listening. She felt the groundwith her fingers, careful to gather her coat from minglingwith it so as not to contaminate the crime scene.

Marshal Jim, Erica, and the other marshal peered aroundas well.

If only April was there. The girl could see a pin on theground without magnifiers. That was what led her into acrime-scene-specialist career. Now, she was a top specialistand led her own team. Rarely did a case she worked on notget resoundingly solved. She saw what others failed to see, ordiscounted as unimportant.

Stella’s fingers glazed over something rough, and sheretraced her hand back. “Here.”

Marshal Jim drew closer as she picked up an itemcovered by snow and examined it.

“An earring. A loop earring.”

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17

tella held her breath as Marshal Jim rotated, pulleda small evidence bag, and collected it. “Where youfound it is right beside where the driver’s door was.

We found a clue.”Stella nodded, some relief flooding her. “The kidnaper is

a woman.”He rushed them to their vehicle, and they got in. “Let’s

get this to the lab and process it immediately.” He spun to theother marshal as he sped into the road, flashing lightsclearing the way. “You’re running point on this. I want any

prints you get off that earring to be run against all criminaland Motor Vehicles databases—and Interpol. I want to know

I

who we’re dealing with and the sooner the better forMichael’s sake.”

t wasn’t until eleven p.m. before Stella finally made it toher hotel room, ran a hot shower, and settled behind

warm covers. Her first phone call after leaving the crimescene was to Sharon, letting her know Michael was reallymissing and US Marshals were searching for him.

April offered through Sharon, to come help. Her exper-tise was needed, but Stella declined. They probably wouldn’tbe allowed back into the crime scene a second time. More-over, she wanted to see what they discovered with the earringfirst. She prayed over Sharon and bid them goodnight.

Next, she tried Summer’s line. It went to voicemail, so sheleft her a message to call her back. Stella sighed as she sankback into the bed after setting her alarm and reading onescripture. Erica had offered for her to stay with her, but Stelladeclined, preferring to stay closer to Michael’s home, in casesomething came out in the search for him. She’d felt bad forany part her delayed response could have played in hispredicament. Also, she hated to be a burden. Dinner at a nicerestaurant offered them some sister time to catch up before itwas time for Stella to leave.

Marshal Jim had been kind enough to call and reserve aroom for Stella at the nearest hotel, about two miles from the

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house when she told him she’d rather stay close due to thenature of her relationship with Michael. Marshal Jim saidthey’d checked her background and confirmed her story.

Then upon her request, he agreed that Stella could meetthe siblings the next day. But he warned that they were not inthe best mood so to prepare her mind ahead of time. Sheunderstood. After all, who would be having fun when theirbrother was missing?

She wondered what kind of relationship Michael hadwith them. Was he the ideal big brother? Or did he find ithard to cope with three siblings especially having been gonefor so long? Stella knew from experience how wreckingdistance was to family relationships. Once-flourishing bondscould wear down to mere text messages once a month.

She sighed as she turned to draw the blanket closer,wishing the central heating would kick in faster. She neednot compare her former relationship with her sisters toMichael’s present one with his siblings. Their historiesdiffered, and things were much better now between herand them.

For all she knew, he could be the model elder brother.Whispering another prayer for Michael, for Sharon, and foreveryone working to help find Michael, she fell asleep.


W hen Michael shook awake, a sliver of brightsunlight pricked his face. The cabin felt warm, and

a piece of dry-looking bread stared at him across the floor.“Eat. If you’re hungry,” said Patricia Cunningham, the

wife of the football player who killed his girlfriend and wentto jail, partly thanks to Michael’s testimony.

Then she’d had short blonde hair—same eyes though.She looked older, as expected, but thinner, much too thin,but incredibly strong when she’d yanked his chains to securethem the previous night.

How long had she planned this? How did she even knowhe was back in Detroit? Clearly, she’d followed him and sethim up. That was why she stopped her car, propped thehood, and beckoned him to help at the roadside. Did sheoverhear Tanner’s request to come pick him up at a bar thatnight, a place he was neither old enough, nor had anyreason, to be at?

It was the only way she could have known he’d comethrough there. The railway crossing led to two roads, and shemustn’t have been sure which one he’d take. So she stoppedher car right before the crossing.

He bent his neck. Pain still radiated from where she’dzapped him with a stun gun, right after he leaned over tolook under her propped hood. Within moments, he was inca-pacitated and soon passed out as she loaded him into avehicle that drove up close.

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But he’d heard her ask a man to hurry before someonesaw them. So, she definitely had help. He remembered herfrom the trial. She’d sat at the back each day, and when herhusband was sentenced, she’d simply risen and walked out.

Was that the day she planned her revenge? Michaelshook his head. At this point, she had nothing to lose if theman meant that much to her.

“He killed a woman.”He thought she didn’t hear him. But she spun and walked

to him but stopped at a safe distance.“So?” She squatted where she was. “At least he came

home every night. He was there when I wanted him to dosomething for me. You took that away from me. My family.”

“You only want him for what he can do for you?”That hit a spot as she rose and went back to adding logs

into the ebbing flames in the fireplace.Michael tilted his head. “Any idea that Phillip killed her

because she was leaving him? And that her ex-boyfriend waspinned with the crime because he had broken up with herthe night before? He was in jail for six months before mytestimony helped law enforcement catch your husband andlock him up, setting the man free. You know all this,don’t you?”

She spun and strolled back to him with measured steps.“Those boys were supposed to kill you on Highway 10, makeit look like an accident.” She spoke slowly through grittedteeth, curls from the brunette wig falling over her face,


S

hiding her eyes. “I thought they were competent. Insteadthey dillydallied until the stupid marshals showed up.” Sheraised her head and observed him grimly. “You were aproblem I should’ve taken care of a long time ago. Now, it’spayback time. You’re now living your last day, John. Enjoy itwhile you still can.”

Michael’s head spun in shock as she walked eerily away.

earch and rescue teams had spanned the entire areasince dawn and found nothing. Stella pulled her winter

coat tighter as they cleared the last quadrant designated forthe day. Still, no sign of Michael. No clue as to who took him,or why. Marshal Jim rolled his vehicle to a stop at a play-ground not far from where they’d found both vehicles. Thesmall park disappeared into thick vegetation. They’d debatedearlier if it was worth it going in to search.

Some argued it was too woody, bushy, and cold foranyone to be in there. Stella simply searched while there wasstill sunlight. Marshal Jim hopped off his vehicle and racedfor her. She stopped and kept her eyes on him. Erica was outwith the final search group clearing the last open quadrant.And would rejoin them soon.

They were pausing their search due to predictions ofsleet and freezing rain within the hour. They’d resume whenit stopped. She hoped it wouldn’t be too late in the day. She’d

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finally met Michael’s siblings but barely said hello beforeheading out to the search.

No one had time to exchange pleasantries though she’dsmiled to them. They had a lot on their minds. So did she.Any effort to get Michael home was time-bound. They had tostay focused.

“We found something, Stella.” Marshal Jim anchored ahand on his hip.

Hope sprung in her heart. “Fingerprints?”“No.” He shook his head. “That was a dead end. They

lifted a partial print, but it wasn’t enough to make an ID. Thisis something else.”

He moved her into a shade, out of earshot. “We traced theearring to the manufacturer, and they linked it to a batchthey made sixteen years ago. It was pricey too, so they pulledtheir records and found they discontinued it a couple ofyears back. We ran the product’s sales ID number and hit amatch with credit card information we had in Michael’s casefile. Someone had paid for those very earrings at a mall inDetroit seven months before Michael went into witnessprotection.”

“Who?”“Phillip Cunningham. And my guess is, it wasn’t his dead

girlfriend who wore them days ago.”Stella’s gaze widened. “His wife.”Marshal Jim nodded, leading her toward the vehicle as

Erica joined them. All the volunteers were ready to leave for


T

a weather break. She didn’t know how many would comeback out when the rain and sleet stopped.

“I put out her face on all media. We hope to get some-thing by the end of day before we hit the forty-eight-hour mark.”

he repeated click of her heels on the wooden floorsjarred Michael’s ears like clanging bells. But the both-

ersome sound dulled in comparison to the angst radiatingfrom her. It could cook up a feast. Michael’s stomach growledat the thought of food. It had been hours since he last ate,since she fed him dry bread hard as stone.

He’d eaten it without a choice to keep his strength up.But with the wood now finished, and the last of the hotembers going out, their time was limited. His time wasrunning out. The clock chimed three.

His thoughts rotated from the shortage of heatingsources, dwindling food, and cold water that was getting toocold to drink, to the fast-dying embers. Rain had fallen in thelast hour, pelting the cabin roof and sending more than a fewconcerns up his worried heart.

She observed him for seemingly an eternity then rose.When she reached him, she unlocked the chains on hishands, freeing them, leaving only his feet bound. “Exercisethose hands. You’ll need them when we get outside. Besides,

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I don’t want anyone seeing you in chains and callingthe cops.”

She seized his arm, pinning her gaze now hidden behinddark glasses. “Listen, don’t try anything.” The glint of a knifeshone from the side of her pants, and the head of a syringefilled with a green substance jutted from her coat pocket.

If he tried to run, she’d drug him. Was that her play? Ormaybe she’d just drug him and drag him. Either way,Michael felt it was in his best interest to cooperate. He couldonly fight to escape if he was lucid.

How he hated this feeling of helplessness! He was tired,hungry, cold, and huddled in almost the same position fortwo days in a row. His knees ached, and his ankles feltswollen when he’d last checked them. He twisted his arms toease the sharp pain radiating from them. Hands now free,left only his feet bound. Jesus, please help me.…

Michael struggled to rise to his feet but crumbled at firstattempt. Then he tried again and leaned against the wallwhere a metal ring that secured the chains to his feet wasanchored. His feet hurt, but he forced himself to stayon them.

She glanced his way but ignored him, so certain hecouldn’t escape. “I’m making one last meal for you. Pancakes.I’m guessing that’s not what you thought your last meal onearth would be huh, John?” Shrill laughter followed hermove toward a low stove by the wall opposite from him.

His eyes watered as he considered what he would have


liked to say to Stella. That he loved her with all his heart.That he wanted to marry her. That she was the one for him,his soul mate. His wife. Did she even know he was missing?What about Tanner, Hunter, and Lucy?

“Ah, tears. You know, you should let others mourn you.I’ll make your exit quick, quicker than Phillip did to thatscum of a girl.”

With a crooked smile, she eyed the parted windowblinds. “It appears the weather agrees. Rain has stopped, andthe sky is almost clear now. We’ll leave soon before dark.”

Too tired to protest, and too hungry to act, Michael criedto God in his heart. Remember the sacrifice of Christ and Your

promises to me. If this is my time to die, I accept. But I don’t think

that it is, so I’m asking You to intervene, Lord Jesus.

She moved to the stove, in his line of sight, and lit thesmall portable gas stove.

An idea, seeming impossible, dropped in his mind. Theodds of it working were one in a million. But he wasdesperate enough to count on that one chance. And to pray.God, please forgive me for what I’m about to do. I have no choice.

Michael made three decisions in that moment. If Godgave him another chance with life, he would go and declarehis intentions to Stella, and tell her he wanted to marry her.No more waiting. If she refused him, he’d walk away forgood. Secondly, he would adopt his siblings and showerthem with unconditional love. Thirdly, he would leave the

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Witness Protection Program after relocating all of them toMaryland if possible.

Clarity followed his every thought once he knew what heneeded to do if he got out of captivity alive. Something abouthis desperate situation made decisions he’d thought difficultsuddenly easier in the light of premature mortality.

He’d never waste another moment. He made those plansby faith. They were farfetched, but he planned. He focusedon recorded miracles in the Bible and prayed he would expe-rience such in his time of need.

He was going to develop his music talent more broadly.Open a music equipment shop and train talented youth. Hewould even register a music label if he felt up to it. He’d workon his first Christian album. As he prayed, planned, andthought silently, Mrs. Cunningham now clad in a jet-blackcoat bent over the hot stove, with the flame blazing under apan of oil as she shook the remnants of a pancake mix into abowl with water, tossed the can aside and stirred. Hehammered out his plan, his way out. A painful, one-shot,narrow way.

ichael glanced at the remaining large piece of hotcoal atop a pile of ashes in the fireplace and gauged

his time. He looked at his feet to judge the length of hischains. It should be enough.


Would his plan work? “Only one way to find out,” hemuttered under his not-so-pristine breath.

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18

er back was fully turned to him as she flippedthe pancakes. Keys dangled from a hook at theback of her pants, after she took off her coat and

left it on a metal stool.Their jangle and sway taunted him. He straightened,

waiting for when she removed the pancake from the panwith oil still in it and put it on a plate. More ash gathered onthe hot coal.

He quickly prayed. If this worked, she was going to be ina lot of pain. If it didn’t, he might never make it home—ever.He was going to experience pain regardless. Lord, please guide

my hand, like You guided David when he slew Goliath with a

smooth stone, in Jesus’ name, amen.

A quick dart of his eyes showed her pouring more oil intothe pan.

She picked up the bowl and stirred the mix to pour asecond fry. The oil sizzled within seconds.

Now.

Michael stretched himself far at the same time as heswung his feet forward and lunged toward the fireplace. Thedistance was wide, but no wider than his six-foot frame. Hefell on his knee, reached farther, dug a quick hand into thefireplace, and scooped up that last piece of hot coal with hisbare hand.

Burning flesh filled his nostrils. His burning skin. Inde-scribable pain reached the core of his being. But he didn’twait for his feelings to catch up. She had turned, eyes widewhen she saw what he held. Both her hands occupied—abowl in one and spatula in the other.

Her shock slowed her movement—and that was herundoing. By the time she lifted her eyes to follow his hand,the hot coal was midair and landed into the pan of oil with asplash. The bowl dropped from her hand and crashed ontothe floor. She reached to scoot the pan aside but was secondstoo late.

A ball of fire mushroomed from the pan and set hersleeve and chest awash with fire and hot oil. Her gutturalscream and sudden spin away from it brought her closeenough for Michael to yank the keys from behind her withhis healthy hand, tearing the belt loop roughly off her pants.

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Enduring the pain of his burning palm, he tried the threekeys. The third unlocked the chains binding his feet. Hekicked them off his ankles and staggered toward the doors asshe knocked the pan by its handle, crashing it to the floor inan attempt to stop her burning clothing. The floor caughtfire, and Michael used one of the keys to unlock the frontdoor, throwing the keys far into the snow outside as hestepped to the wooden porch glad to still have his shoes on.

She kept on screaming inside, and he cast one glancebackward as she rolled on the ground in an attempt to haltthe flames. A snow-covered landscape greeted him when hespun to the shadow of tree cover ahead, moved toward it, anddidn’t look back again.

He scooped a handful of snow into his burned palmwhile he stumbled to the edge of the tree line. Simplygrateful to be alive and out of the cabin, he ran on wobblyfeet until he was well beyond any path she could recognize ifshe chose to give chase. Nothing else marked his flight, savefor some deep footprints he couldn’t possibly cover.

With a loud boom, the cabin burst aflame just as a carzoomed from the driveway toward a bridge, the one whosefrozen river he now approached. He knew it was her. Heducked behind a tree until she was clearly gone thenresumed his trek.

Sharp pain sent tingles up his arm, but he lifted hisswollen feet more with determination than strength andgrabbed another fistful of snow. As he hobbled with curved


shoulders toward the low bridge, he was careful not to crackany branches or make more noise than the breath he drew.But he knew she couldn’t search for him and get away at thesame time. Plus, she’d need medical help. Her first logicalstep after first aid would be to make a run for it and escapethe law.

Michael shivered terribly. Pain threatened to send himinto shock, but he fought it, grateful to be alive—and free. Intears, he raised his burned hand in thanks to God. Hisfreedom was priceless.

Wrapping his arms around his midsection, he tried to geta bearing of his surroundings. Beyond the bridge above andthe frozen river beneath, wooded territory stretched out,giving no indication which way led toward town.

His vision blurred. Hunger rampaged in his abdomen,and he needed clean drinking water. He wetted his tonguewith untracked snow and kept moving. Snow stuck to hisdirty jeans and dusted his shirt, and his toes tingled withcold inside his damp shoes. Frostbite would kick in soon. Hehad no coat, just a polo shirt. He didn’t dare climb the bridgein case she waited to finish the job. How thick was the icedriver? Would it break if he dared cross it? If he dared it, herisked sinking.

So he stood as though tethered at the edge, undecided.The sun had begun setting over the wooded cascadingterrain. It would soon start getting dark, and he was sure ofone thing, he needed to find help—fast. Just then, a second

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explosion rocked the cabin behind and shook the ground,sending him racing on pure adrenaline, onto the frozen river.

When he reached the other side and climbed on onehand and knees onto solid soil, he could only turn back tostare at what he’d done. He’d made it to the other side. He’dslipped a few times but got up and continued.

He turned and walked deeper into the woods, hoping tofind someone, or something to help him. In his heart, he gaveup his fear of trusting people that started when he’d enteredWitness Protection. He yielded his anger toward theCunninghams. He forgave them from his heart. He cried forGod to help him trust again. The need for rest debilitatedhim when he came to a large tree that seemed comfortableafter walking for a long while, and seeing nothing but treessurrounding him.

His knees wobbled and sank to the ground. With hisfrozen toes, burned hand, and dry throat, he could move nofurther. Craving rest, he leaned against the dampened trunkand huddled himself close. Before long, sleep took over.

on’t wander off.”Lucy spun slowly and tilted her head in

acknowledgment. “Oh, no I won’t.” Her eyes swept the snowyhorizon and returned to Marshal Jim. “Just…searching formy dad.”


US Marshal Jim Denison frowned. “Dad? Since when?”He curled both arms, waiting.

Lucy took her time, not wanting the battling emotions toshow. Not even a peek. “I signed the papers this afternoon.We all did. Michael is now our adoptive dad.” Somehow,speaking the words loud released new urgency in her as herbreath quickened and clouded the air around her face with asoft mist. The temperature was falling—fast—so was herhope for Michael’s rescue. “We need to find him.” I need to

make things right.

Lucy didn’t wait for his response. She moved toward thewooded area, in the direction two other volunteer searcherswent, holding her head high as she could while her insideschurned.

She and Stella had pressed for the search team to returnafter the rain stopped. In fact, most of the other volunteersdidn’t wait. But a handful pledged to join them and returnedto the search site.

Before long, hot tears spilled down her cheeks anddropped onto her red scarf. Enough. She swiped the edge ofher gloved hand over her face, halting the flow of theincoming wave of fresh tears. She continued walking behindthe two searchers, slowing her steps considerably until theclosest was more than two arms-length away.

Both chatted as they searched, oblivious of the weepingtween trailing behind them. Well, that suited Lucy just fine.She needed some space. A chance to pour her heart out to

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God in repentance. Since Michael had been missing, she’dheld her guilt in, but now it threatened to stifle her inside.

Lord Jesus, I’m so sorry. She sniffed. I was so angry at losing

my dad that I refused to accept Michael as a dad in my heart.

When Michael came, I thought he would try to replace Dad, so I

resisted. I wanted him just to go away and never come back. But

after these two days without him, I’ve been miserable. I wished

Michael was here. Here to take me to school in the morning, watch

me play soccer in the evening, and attend PTA, like Dad used to do

for me. I miss him, and I want him back. Please don’t let him die. I

can’t lose two dads in one year. Please, God.…

A flash of light across her face brought Lucy’s steps to ahalt. She spun around—and saw she was alone. She’d laggedso behind that the search team she had tagged with was farahead. She’d have to hurry to catch up. She now lingered ona tree-lined ledge bordering a frozen lake or river beyond. Noone appeared to search toward there.

The party moved toward the grassy area opening on theother side, shouting Michael’s name as John Carlos. Onlyinsiders like her, her brothers, Stella, and her sisters knewMichael by his Witness Protection name. Marshal Jimwanted to keep it that way in Detroit.

Lucy shaded her eyes. She squinted. Was that…a thinfilm of smoke rising lazily toward the sky far away? With thesun fully gone and darkness falling, it was too far to be surewhat it was. She sighed at her desperation. She was clingingto every sign so maybe she imagined the smoke. Moreover,


she saw no buildings, and no firefighter truck wailed itsapproach.

She peered closer, took a few steps to be sure it was notworth an effort to check. Her boots caught hold on anexposed tree root, and arms flailing, she tumbled, landingwith her face smack to the ground.

“Argh!” She grunted and pressed an arm to the moist soil,pushing herself to kneel on her elbow while she wiped sandand snow off her face already chilling with the quick contact.She froze midway.

About a hundred yards away, a figure lay huddled on theground. A tall form, athletic and…It couldn’t be! Was it?

She jumped to her feet, and her heart raced. She rushedto the form and sank to her knees where she could see theface. Yes. She was right. She rubbed her gloved hands on hisface—but there was no response. Only chilled skin greetedher warm palms, the chill on him radiating through hergloves.

“Michael?” she whispered with her voice trembling.Please don’t die. Please, I beg you. Please, Jesus, wake him up. Shereached down, patted his exposed hand, and jolted at a gruffgroan.

She pinned two fingers to his wrist and felt his pulse likein First Aid class. Weak pulse, but it was there. As she loos-ened her hold, her thumb brushed something gooey on hispalm. She turned it over and gasped. Fiery-red, swollen blis-ters mangled his left palm. It looked burned. She slid off her

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gloves and gently slipped them onto his hand. She removedher scarf and hat and pressed them on his head, swingingthe scarf around his neck. Then she blew hot air from hermouth over his gloved hands, ears, and face in quick strongpuffs.

Her mind spun back to the smoke she’d sighted earlier.Maybe it could explain his wound? But she couldn’t focus onthat right now. She needed to get him help.

“I found John! Help! Help!” she yelled at the top of hervoice until the sound of pounding feet reached her ears. Shebent down when his swollen eyelids fluttered, and a halfsmile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Hey, Lucy.”Her heart swelled. He remembered her. Thank you, Lord

Jesus! “Hi, Dad.”

elcome back, Michael.”Soft hair floated just beyond his reach, shim-

mering, familiar hair. An antiseptic smell stung his nose, andblue curtains created a dull backdrop. Must be in the hospi-tal. But he was looking at Stella. How did she get here?

“Hi.” He tried, but his voice came as a croak.She smiled and pressed a hand to his chest as a couple

other faces gathered and clouded his view. But he kept hiseyes trained on Stella and smiled. He had to say it.


G

He just had to. “Did I tell you that I love you, Stella?Because I do.”

asps echoed around the room but not from Stella.She’d heard the words she’d been hoping she’d get a

chance to hear again. “Yes, Michael. You have.” She withdrewher hand, lowered until their faces were inches apart, carefulnot to lean on his bandaged hand. A smile tugged at thecorners of her brown eyes. How could she ever not love thisman? Her fears wanted to hold her back. But blessedly faithwon. “And have I told you that I love you too, Michael?” Thistime, Erica gasped aloud.

“My dad was not rich,” Stella continued as his eyes held,transfixed on hers with admiration. “But he gave us every-thing he had after Mom passed away, plus his love andsupport. Raising us four girls alone couldn’t have been easyfor him. We had little, but we laughed through the toughtimes. In fact, those were some of our best times as a family.We appreciated one another. It wasn’t until after he died, thatthings got hard for us. But we stuck together and made itthrough.”

She wiped a stray tear and heard a sob behind her, butshe continued, “I’m sorry I held out on you, Michael. Icouldn’t bear to love and lose again. I was scared. But then I

208 JOY OHAGWU

lost you even before we began. Thank God for delivering mefrom that fear.”

He tried to lean up, and a chorus of voices told him tostay down. Stella saw Marshal Jim slide his hands into hispocket as he keenly observed the scene before him as thoughhe’d never seen this in all his years of protection detail.

Stella smiled. This was genuine love.


“W

19

e were told we’d never get married by ateacher at our high school when wewere younger. She said we weren’t

cultured girls who made good wives. It hurt. Those wordsstung deep. And even though I’d gotten married, I lived infear of losing my marriage. But now, I no longer have anyfear because I know the Word of God for my life is stronger,and more powerful than the word of any man or woman.”

Silence filled the room until he could’ve heard theproverbial pin drop.

A tear dropped from Stella’s eyes onto Michael’s pillow,and he swallowed hard, struggling to contain his emotions.“Stella, I’m not going to play games with you. I’m in this for

A

the long term. If you want to go slower, fine. But I’m notleaving you ever again. I’m here to stay forever.”

Stella now sobbed. “My sisters considered me the bummagnet when we were younger, because I dated guys whohad no future plans. Scott was the exception. So when hedied, I got angry. But soon I realized it was no good. Irepented and trusted in God’s plan for my life, even if Icouldn’t understand it. I promised myself never to allowanything—anything at all—to draw me away from Christbecause my faith in Him is my most valuable asset.”

Michael reached out with his healthy hand and tookhers. “I love you, Stella Heart. And no matter where God’swill takes us, I’ll be there by your side. I promise. You’d saidyou walked on uncommon ground filled with newness of life.Let me walk that ground with you. Let me add to it.”

Stella nodded, and long black curls bounced over hershoulder. “Yes. Walk it with me. I won’t fear losing you again,Michael, because I love you too.” Applause broke out thoughhe’d no idea who started it. It took moments for it to subside.His eyes grew heavy as he blinked. Her black curls dangledin his face as Stella leaned over to plant a kiss on his fore-head. “Rest. I’ll be here when you wake.”

s their eyes aggressively scanned multiple screens,the only thing that felt more tedious for Erica Heart


was keeping her mind off the blond-haired, blue-eyedstunner of a man named Marshal Jim Denison.

The fact that she now leaned over his shoulder for acloser look for any suspicious traveler and caught a whiff ofhis aftershave didn’t help. But she’d learned a long time agoto distance herself from attractive fellows. For her, they madethe hardest dates so she focused instead on her task. It wasn’thard to make him accept her help especially when he’dalready spent hours overnight pouring unsuccessfully oversurveillance videos.

When she heard street surveillance cameras had pickedout someone with Patricia Cunnigham’s appearance headingto Detroit’s Metro Airport, Erica convinced Jim she couldhelp. Having both lived in Detroit and spent the better partof the last decade in airports, she could spot anomalies easierthan even a trained eye. Askew hair, unnatural gait, and thelike stood out to her more sharply than a regular travelersolely intent to arrive at his destination.

But time was short, and they needed to catch her beforeshe left the country and extradition laws became a hindranceto justice for Michael. She shifted on her feet and stretchedher arms sideways to work the kinks off. She’d peered atthose monitoring screens for four hours now.

“There.” She pointed to the shadowy female figurebowed over a ticket counter, actively trying to hide from thesecurity camera. White bandage peeped from her right arm

212 JOY OHAGWU

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as the lady in a black coat struggled to zip a backpack.“Which arm of hers did Michael say got burned?”

Marshal Jim looked at her, grabbed his phone, and calledthe marshal guarding Michael’s hospital room. He spun toErica a moment later, high-fived her, and shrugged on hisjacket with practiced swerve, a wide grin filling his face.

“Software says there’s ninety-percent chance that face ishers. She matched the height and weight speculation. AndMichael said she was burned on her right hand.”

Erica smiled. “We got her.”Eyes momentarily locked, they knew without a doubt

they had Patricia Cunningham in their sights. They couldcatch her now and bring her to justice.

“That we do. And my partner and I are leading a tacticalteam there to apprehend her now. Good job, Erica Heart.”His smile widened.

But his cheeks warmed brightly too, leaving Ericawondering why.

tella checked her watch and leaned back. This taxi ridewas taking too long. If he crawled any slower, she’d

miss her lunch appointment with Summer. They weremeeting for lunch at the Esposito Restaurant. Why hadSummer come to Maryland and said her first wish was forStella to meet for lunch anyway? Granted, she loved seafood,


especially crab cakes, and never missed them whenever shecame around, but this was unplanned. And sudden. Eitherway, she couldn’t be late for this, or she’d risk being late forher next equally important appointment.

Michael and his siblings, now his kids, were coming tovisit her and Sharon. They had landed in Maryland the daybefore and were stopping by her place. She had cooked up afeast. So she would have to make this lunch with Summerquick and convince her to come with her to the house.

It had been three months since Michael was dischargedafter a one-week stay at the hospital. Stella had taken emer-gency leave from the college to stay the entire week at thehospital with him.

Luckily, her new professorial supervisor was kind andunderstood. At the hospital, Michael told her about hisparents’ passing, and how he learned about his siblings. Itwas all a mix of good and bad news to her. She’d wished shehad a chance to meet his parents. But at least he was aliveand recovering fast.

Their relationship was growing just as fast. Sharon andLucy bonded even before they first met two months ago,when Stella took Sharon to Detroit. Now, they texted eachother daily.

Tanner changed his ways after Michael returned, becamemore responsible but still declined going to church. Hunterwas his jovial self and avoided housework at all costs. Theywere such a natural family that anyone who saw them would

214 JOY OHAGWU

not believe their story of how they came to be. But mostsuccessful families were built up sweetly by their brokenparts. It was simply a matter of acceptance of each person’sflaws and loving them anyway.

The taxi came to a stop, and Stella alighted. As she paidthe driver, she saw a sign by the restaurant door with hername on it. She spun slowly. The sign asked her to go to therooftop for her reservation.

When did Summer become over-the-top dramatic? Thiswas something Erica would do, not Summer. Stella smiled,shook her head, and followed the instructions. She got onthe elevator, pushed the button to the rooftop, and arrivedthere within moments.

When she stepped out, the first thing that struck her wasthe flowers that pelted the floor.

“Surprise!” Echoed around her. A song started to play asshe entered the lounge and saw her entire family. Sharon,Erica, April, and Summer. Plus Michael, who was now drop-ping to one knee in front of her. And Lucy, Tanner, andHunter who shared fist bumps in the middle. It was surreal.

“You Have Blessed Me With Such A Woman” played atthe background. Michael’s voice. She exhaled sharply andcovered her mouth as she recognized the song he sang thatnight at the cutout. The song was for her? And there she waswondering who he was singing it for!

“Stella, you are an amazing woman. I’m so blessed tohave found you. The day I leaned over that rock to help you


S

up was the start of something beautiful that I failed to seeuntil much later. You might think I helped you at Nature’sReserve, but you’ve done so much more for me. You’ve shownme that true love is not limited by circumstance and that Godstill works in spite of one’s past. I’m a flawed man, and I don’thave a perfect life. But if you would do me the honor of beingmy wife, I promise to love you, cherish you, and fight for youall the days of my life. Stella Heart, would you pleasemarry me?”

Stella sobbed so hard she could barely get the words out.But she knew she needed to. So her past could hear it. So herfuture could believe it. And so her heart would know this wasreal. She was getting engaged again at thirty-eight years old?God of wonders!

“Yes! Yes, Michael. I will marry you.”He rose to his feet, drew her into a tight embrace, and the

music blared louder with cheers and balloon pops soundingaround them.

tella shared silent agreement with Michael before hescanned the kids’ faces and inquired, “Your vote?”

Tanner nodded. “Michigan.”Michael turned to Hunter.He shrugged in a nonchalant manner. “I say we leave. To

Maryland?”

216 JOY OHAGWU

Lucy smiled, as though she’d waited for someone else tosay it first. She’d turned thirteen the past weekend and stillneeded to be spoiled so she played the it’s-still-my-birthdaycard. “I like the sound of that. Fresh start, new school, newfriends. I vote for Maryland.”

Tanner sighed. “Lucy gets what Lucy wants, right?”Michael was trying to seem calm, but he wasn’t succeed-

ing. At least, he’d managed not to reveal his preference—yet.Tanner scrunched up his face. “Maryland then. But we’ll

come to Detroit for vacation.”The smile lighting Michael’s face said it all. “Very well.”He looked at Stella sitting near him whose smile glowed.

“We’re all coming home to you. You think Sharon mindshaving three siblings?”

Stella took his hand, beaming. She’d only spent a fewhours with them since arriving, and they were already like afamily. They yielded the kitchen to her. Then she and Lucycooked the meal they all just shared. Never mind that shewould be going back to Maryland in two hours’ time. “Askher yourself after you’ve seen all the room decorations shealready bought. She’s been designing all the bedrooms at ournew place.”

Michael’s eyes grew in pleasant surprise. “You mean thehome we bought to move in to after the wedding?”

They’d bought a six-bedroom house on a modern farmnear Baltimore. It wasn’t far from Pleasant, about ten miles.


But it was spacious, boasted good schools close by, and wasjust perfect for them.

Stella nodded with a laugh. “Oh yeah. Sharon’s pickedout everything for the wedding, and for after the wedding.You’re gaining a daughter, Michael, a very creative one. Andbet I say, you two will make a great pair. I’m just not sure I’vegot sufficient energy for you both.”

Michael smiled and patted her hand before letting go.“Look around. There’s enough people in our family to dissi-pate the energy to.”

Stella liked what she heard. Our family. Never had shedreamed….

Michael took her hand again and bowed his head. “Letus pray.”

And without being told, all the children joined hands,including Tanner, and formed a circle with Michael andStella. “Lord, we thank You…” he began.

218 JOY OHAGWU

“I

20

love my beautiful bride…” The DJ played the songat Rose Beach as Stella strutted the stone walkaisle with Michael waiting at the end, under an

arched tent in a navy-blue tux. The afternoon spring breezeruffled her hair softly, and she silently thanked Erica in herheart for pulling her hair into a clip at the back. Summer hadplanned Stella’s wedding with meticulous detail, and almostone year after getting engaged, here she was, marrying theman she loved on a beautiful Friday in June.

A knot of pearls held the bouquet in her hand withassorted colors of Orlando Pink roses, rare green roses, andwhite roses. She smiled when her eyes met with her sisters’who stood on one side as her bridesmaids, all wearing

E

bubblegum pink. Luke, Michael’s friend, was his best manand glowed in black suit. Michael’s children, on the otherside wore sky-blue, except Lucy.

Sharon, proudly starting college in the fall—and Lucy—prime facilitator of a six-tier choice wedding cake, paired asmaids of honor in shimmering gold satin dresses, whileHunter, sporting bleached blond hair just for the wedding,posed as their ring bearer.

Tanner, who stood silently beside him, looked dapper inhis suit and seemed to grow taller by the day. Stella felt likeruffling Hunter’s hair when he flashed a brilliant smile.Almost overcome with love for her new blended family, shemanaged to reach her place and stand opposite Michael.Some of her new colleagues at the Central CommunityCollege occupied the first row of seated wedding guests, aswell as friends from both of their churches.

Michael beamed and mouthed, “You look beautiful,”before the exchange of vows began. Planned as a short inti-mate ceremony, it took about a half hour and couldn’t havebeen more perfect. Everyone cheered after vows wereexchanged when Michael locked lips with Stella and kissedher deeply.

rica, clad in her pink bridesmaid dress, looked upafter the wedding, to something circling overhead. If

220 JOY OHAGWU

J

she was correct, it was the helicopter that would descend andtake Michael and Stella to their honeymoon.

Marshal Jim, who had become quite friendly sinceMichael’s rescue, came and stood near her, following herskyward gaze.

“You ever use a marshal for one of your flights fromDetroit Metro Airport?”

Surprise curved Erica’s lips, but she still looked skyward.Sure enough, the helicopter began descending. “Your jobever put you on an airplane as an Air Marshal on duty?”

im held back from sighing. The lady was impossible.She met him stride for stride. He chose to yield.“Uh-uh.”

How could he commit words to the expectancy pulsatingthrough him? He couldn’t admit to anyone but himself thatErica was a strong reason why he accepted Michael’s invita-tion to the wedding. Not that he would’ve missed it, havingbecome friends with the groom, and considering that most ofthe rescue team had been invited as well. No, Erica was theicing on his attendance. A chance to see her again. Look intoher eyes. Witness her smile.

“Then maybe you’ll end up on one of my flight routesone day, Jim.”

Her use of his first name got his hopes up. Maybe he


E

could soften her view of him as a tough-nosed US Marshal tojust a regular guy. A guy she could share a meal with, maybea date.

The chopper landed, and its ladder swung downward onthe sandy beach.

“I might take you up on that offer, Erica.”That drew her eyes from the sky. “Offer?”But the dance of light on her sparkling eyes spurred hope

in him.A hard wave from Lucy, the white flower tucked in her

hair threatening to fall, broke their locked gaze. “Aunt Erica!Come see my parents off for their honeymoon.” Her shoeheels sank into soft brown sand as she approached.

rica laughed, stepping away from him. She took Lucy’shand and headed toward Michael and Stella who

both looked dashing getting in the chopper—Michael inblue tux and Stella in her white lace bridal gown, lookingangelic.

Erica still held the bouquet she’d caught earlier in herleft hand. She’d laughed it off when it happened, wondering,who’d ever choose to settle with a woman like her who spentmore time in the skies than on ground? But again… Shepeeked over her shoulder, at the man still staring at her.

A lightness lifted her heart to the very skies she so loved.

222 JOY OHAGWU

Stella just got married to a remarkable man, against all odds.So, who knows? She smiled at her new niece, courtesy of thewedding they just witnessed. “Yes, Lucy. Let’s send the newHuddlestons off in grand style.”

THE END

Thank you for reading Uncommon Ground-ThePleasant Hearts Series ( Book 1), the first book in thisexciting Christian romantic suspense series! Click here tocontinue reading Unbound Hope, Book 2 of this series.

Relax, and continue enjoying this series with the nextbook, which is UNBOUND HOPE, (Erica’s story) HERE.Below is an exclusive sneak preview.

UNBOUND HOPE (PLEASANT HEARTS SERIES:BOOK TWO) – PREVIEW


A

UNBOUND HOPE- EXCLUSIVE PREVIEW

shadow-faced man clad in a wrinkled, jet-blacksoft leather jacket, sunk into a chair and shoved aflight ticket into his blue jean’s pocket with a

sweat-clammed hand. He tapped the other on his knee andground his coffee-stained teeth. His mint-green eyes fastenedon the beige wall clock at the Detroit Metro Airport NorthTerminal waiting lounge where it slowly dinged anotherhour. Very slowly.

Why was it just seven a.m.? He’d been here for hours.Waiting outside until the counter opened had felt the long-est. But so was arriving at three a.m. to the target’s house andfinding he’d taken off for a trip—possibly never to return tothe States. He’d only needed to remotely tap into his cablenetwork provider subscription, long enough to access his PCand e-mail to find out what flight he’d be traveling with.

I

As it seemed, he’d barely made it to the airport in time tograb one of the tickets left, and he paid top cash for it. But nosacrifice was too great for his brother. None. And by the timeFlight Number 2994 left the tarmac, he’d show the man whathe had done by taking his brother from him prematurely. Noway would that man leave the plane alive. No. Way. He slidback into the seat, shut his eyes, and confidently rehearsedhis strategy. Either the man would go the same way he’d senthis brother, or he’d take everyone on Flight 2994 downwith him.

n Cleveland, one hundred and sixty miles from Detroit, awoman with black hair, a cat tattoo on her shoulder, and

a darkened healed scar running down her pale neck exitedthe Milsbury State Penitentiary. She shielded her eyes fromthe July sun and smiled as the double wrought-iron gate shutbehind her.

Finally, she was free. She breathed in the fresh air,different from the stale breath she’d endured for twenty-fouryears. Tucking a small purse underneath her armpit, shewaved a hand to hail a passing taxi, which dragged to a slowstop. Of course, she had no more than the thirty bucks incash—little more than the zero she’d entered with. But sheknew where to get some more, and then she could begin herreason for behaving so well to get an early release. She would

226 JOY OHAGWU

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find the girl who had escaped, given her the neck scar, andsent her to prison two decades ago for kidnapping. Shecould’ve served less time had she not been a bit rough withthe girl. But it wasn’t her fault. The girl made her do it.

Her hands and jaw clenched. She sucked in a sharpbreath, exhaled, and as it flew past the taxi, she observed thecityscape with a hunger pang, but not for food. Revengeburned within her. Revenge that twenty-four years didn’tquench. Her frown deepened with determination. She wouldfind Lillian. And she would finish the job.

elax, and continue reading UNBOUND HOPEHERE: Amazon US Amazon( other stores)


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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may bereproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in

any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical,photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior

permission of the author, except as brief quotations inprinted reviews.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents,and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are

used fictitiously. Any resemblance or similarity to actualevents or persons, living or dead, scenarios, or locales is

entirely coincidental. This ebook is licensed for yourenjoyment. Unauthorized sharing is prohibited. Please

purchase your copy to read this story. Thank you.

DISCLAIMER

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents,and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are

used fictitiously. Any resemblance or similarity to actualevents or persons, living or dead, scenarios, or locales is

entirely coincidental.This ebook is licensed for your enjoyment. Unauthorized

sharing is prohibited. Please purchase your copy to read thisstory. Thank you.

UNCOMMON GROUND

By

Joy Ohagwu

Copyright First Edition © 2016

CHRISTIAN FICTION TWINED IN FAITH, HOPE, AND LOVE.Life Fountain Books LLC and Life Fountain Media logo are trademarks of

Joy Ohagwu. Absence of ™ in connection with marks of Life Fountain Media

or other parties does not indicate an absence of trademark protection of

those marks.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in

a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic,

mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior permission

of the author, except as brief quotations in printed reviews.

This novella is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues

are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any

resemblance or similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead,

scenarios, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your enjoyment. Unauthorized sharing is

prohibited. Please purchase your copy to read this story. Thank you.

Except where otherwise stated, "Scripture taken from the New KingJames Version Bible®,

Scripture Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc:Used by permission. All rights reserved.

All glory to God

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