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    Wings, The Set
    Wings, The Set
    Wings, The Set
    Ebook391 pages7 hours

    Wings, The Set

    By Suzanne D. Williams

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    About this ebook

    An allegorical look at the gospels and the book of Acts.

    What reviewers are saying:  "I actually learned more things about God than I already knew." – "Wow this was such a powerful novel! There were so many spiritual truths washing over me as I read it! No way could I deny how touched I was by these truths written and how they can be applied to my own life." – "This was an amazing book. I started reading it last night…and couldn't put it down!" – "Not the typical teenage love story or an angel love story." – "I highly recommend this book!" – "Suzanne is a terrific writer who is very gifted with wisdom."

    Wings

    If I take the wings of the morning…even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. (Psalm 139:9-10)

    Called from birth to carry the Light of God into a world filled with Darkness, seventeen-year-old Sara Benedict finds the mission this time has changed. This city, this school, is more about her growth. No longer will she function alone, but she needs Angus Finlay to fulfill the prophecies.

    Yet there's something deeper going on behind the scenes, and the harder she tries, the greater the danger seems. Her work of rescue must continue, but this task just might shut off the Light inside her once and for all.

    Wings2

    But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth (Acts 1:8).

    Three years ago, Angus Finlay had his life all planned out. He had a beautiful girlfriend, Sara Benedict, the Light of the Creator in his heart, and a call to spread the Truth. He saw glorious things in the heavens and in the lives of his friends.

    But now, at age twenty, those three years have plunged him into Darkness. His relationship broken, he's put miles between himself and that place, and begun an intimate relationship with a new girl. He's not who he was and must learn to accept it.

    Then his mom is killed by his hated stepdad, and the demons he left behind send him spiraling back toward Sara and one fateful moment of life and death.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuzanne D. Williams
    Release dateAug 8, 2018
    ISBN9781386203377
    Wings, The Set
    Author

    Suzanne D. Williams

    Best-selling author, Suzanne D. Williams, is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and photographer. She is the author of both nonfiction and fiction books. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography, as well as devotionals and instructional articles for various blogs. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors. She is co-founder of THE EDGE. To learn more about what she’s doing and check out her extensive catalogue of stories, visit http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com/ or link with her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor.

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      Book preview

      Wings, The Set - Suzanne D. Williams

      A close up of a logo Description generated with very high confidence

      SUZANNE D. WILLIAMS

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      These two books are an allegorical look at the gospels and the book of Acts, giving physical form to spiritual truths. Though the author has taken some leeway with the abilities of the main characters, the power of God to bring complete salvation—of the heart, the mind, and the body—is available to any who will believe in the death, burial, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. God is, in fact, stronger than the devil, which was defeated on the cross. These stories seek to depict this.

      The reader is encouraged to read and study the Bible on their own. A free downloadable study guide is available at the author’s website for this purpose, www.feelgoodromance.com, and it accompanies the marked passages in each story. I hope you enjoy these tales.

      Suzanne D. William, Author

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Wings

      Wings2

      About The Author

      A drawing of a face Description generated with high confidence

      Book 1

      A person Description generated with high confidence

      © 2014 WINGS (Paranormal Romance) Book 1 by Suzanne D. Williams

      www.feelgoodromance.com

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

      All Scripture is taken from the King James Version of the Bible unless otherwise indicated by the numbered references in parenthesis. Each number coincides with a matching number at the end of the chapter. You are encouraged to read God’s Word for yourself. These references are also available as a standalone PDF on the author’s website:  www.feelgoodromance.com

      *The Voice Bible Copyright © 2012 Thomas Nelson, Inc.

      If I take the wings of the morning...even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me (Psalm 139:9-10).

      Before time itself was measured, the Voice was speaking. The Voice was and is God. (2) This celestial Word remained ever present with the Creator; (3) His speech shaped the entire cosmos. Immersed in the practice of creating, all things that exist were birthed in Him. (4) His breath filled all things with a living, breathing Light—(5)A Light that thrives in the depths of Darkness, blazes through murky bottoms. It cannot and will not be quenched (John 1:1-5, the VOICE*).

      PROLOGUE

      Standing on her tippytoes, the three-year-old girl grappled for a better grip on the door knob, but her pudgy fingers slipped once, twice. It’d worked before if only she could just—

      The barest hold of the knob, her arms straining, legs aching, she stared at it, seeing through the domed metal, down the cylinder, and along the shank. Blinking her eyes, she gave a grunt, and the latch popped free.

      She made her escape but didn’t get far because a figure stood outside the door. Tall, seemingly stretched against the sky, his countenance was a mixture of fire and Darkness.

      Curious, she paused, brows drawn tight.

      Then a sound emerged from his throat, the screech of a thousand souls in agony mingled with the roar of barbarian beasts.

      Panicked, she screamed and made to run, but the Evil in him held her captive. And the Light in her, the Light that warmed her small frame, the Glory that cradled her from birth, wavered, and dimmed.

      CHAPTER 1

      Rising from dew-laden grass, the mist enshrouded everything in the field. Trees lining the horizon, slumbering cattle nearby, and the slender figure of the girl all disappeared in its opaque depths. Arms outstretched, hands raised palm upward, she communed with her Creator in a worship song of unknown tune. Unknown to others, but recognized by herself, for its melody, as ancient as time itself, was sung over her at birth, giving her strength and purpose for the task she was fashioned.

      The minutes passed into hours, and the sky changed from a grayish tint of Light to hues of pink and orange and yellow. It captured all of life before it in a fiery splendor seen by a few, noticed by many, but understood by no one but the girl. Understood, welcomed, and absorbed.

      The mist dissipated in its Glory, returning into the earth, and the dampness filming her skin dried to a fine dust. She completed her song and stood yet longer, in silence awaiting His voice. He spoke at last, whispered instructions changing the course of things. Her heart beat the same, but her humanness trembled.

      Are you sure? she asked.

      And the answer came, solid, definite, assured.

      She bowed her head and folded her hands to her chest. Be it unto me according to Thy word.

      It was the usual school hallway, a long, narrow corridor lined with dinged metal lockers and shiny floor tile. The students were the usual crowd as well, various clicks of individuals ignoring each other with an occasional cross of the barrier by one brave person. She’d seen it all before, but the mission here was different.

      Sara traveled her gaze over the milling horde to a doorway on the left. Her brother’s hand squeezed her shoulder, a distraction.

      How long were you out there? he asked.

      She held up three fingers.

      Three hours? That’s longer than usual.

      Her gaze extended through the doorway to a particular table where a boy, broad-shouldered with a thick head of black hair, bent over a book.

      Her brother’s head swiveled, following. What is it?

      She nodded that way.

      Him? Why? Are you getting signals?

      She turned her blue-eyed gaze to her brother’s face, and a smile emerged. No.

      Then why?

      She wriggled her nose. He’s cute. Hooking her book bag over her shoulder, she stepped across the hallway toward the door. She seated herself opposite the boy, dropping her bag at her feet, and he looked up.

      Sara Benedict, she said.

      One eyebrow crawled upward.

      The chair beside her squawked in protest, her brother hauling it backward. She pointed her thumb at him. My brother, Campbell.

      The boy glanced that way and jerked his chin. Angus Finlay, he said.

      Sara leaned her elbows on the table, the hard surface grinding against her bones. Scottish?

      He inclined his head. On my father’s side.

      White warrior.

      His raised brow reformed into a series of confused lines.

      The meaning of your last name, she explained. It’s a strong name, forceful.

      And that’s good? he asked.

      She smiled and tilted her head. "In my book."

      He sat up and fell back in his chair. Though he was looking at her, he spoke to her brother. Tell me, Campbell. Is your sister always so ... up front?

      Her brother’s answer rang loud in her ear. Always.

      A couple girls entered the classroom, chattering loudly, and for a moment the trio quieted. The girls moved past them to tables situated on the far side.

      It comes with being the smarter one, Sara continued.

      This brought a crooked smile to Angus’s face. "So, you’re not twins." He said this as if he’d never thought it to begin with.

      She laughed light and shook her head. No. Campbell’s a year older, but he failed fourth grade.

      Something she reminds me of a lot.

      And so, what? The two of you hang out together?

      Sara reached out a hand and grasped hold of the boy’s book. Turning it around, she scanned the page. I read that one. Took me an hour.

      An hour? Disbelief firmly affixed itself to Angus’s features. Handsome features. Green eyes, an angular jaw, and a strong chin with fine black hair sprouted on the tip. You can’t possibly have read that in an hour.

      She did, Campbell said. Her brother’s affirmation did nothing to suspend Angus’s skepticism.

      Sara returned the book to the table and stuck out her hand, palm upward. I can do other things. You got a quarter?

      Sure. Angus dug around in his pocket, producing a silver coin.

      She folded her fingers around it, then twisted her wrist left until her hand sat face down. Squeezing the metal tight, she nodded at her fist. Touch my hand.

      He hesitated.

      Just do it, she said.

      He laid his warm palm over hers.

      Okay, now is it hot or cold?

      Cold.

      She concentrated on the object pressed hard in her flesh. And now?

      Cold, he said.

      Heat slid along her skin, rising from deep in her core and drifting downward and out. She focused it to her fingertips where the circle of metal softened. She bent it into a u, then allowed the energy to dissipate.

      Did my hand ever warm at any point? she asked. He was curious now. She’d hooked him, which strangely made her happy.

      He removed his hand from hers and dropped it in his lap. No. Why?

      She flipped her hand over and unfolded her fingers.

      Angus’s eyes widened. How?

      She brought the coin into her fingertips and extended it to him. Go ahead. You can keep it, and think of me.

      He took the coin and held it up between them, the disc now perfectly bent in half. He glanced at her brother. Can you do that?

      Campbell threw his hands wide. Don’t look at me. It’s her trick.

      The bell rang and an additional influx of students filtered inside the room. Sara rose from her chair, raising her bag to her shoulder. I’ll be seeing you, Angus, she said.

      His eyes still on the coin, he dragged them upward to her face. Definitely.

      She left the room, not looking back. Angus Finlay was worth seeing again, for sure.

      What did you do that for? Campbell asked from slightly behind.

      She flicked him a glance. He was peeved.

      I told you. He’s cute. She headed for the stairwell. If she didn’t get going, she’d be late.

      Campbell was apparently not concerned. Truth, Sara. There’s something up. Isn’t there? He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her into a nook where two doorways intersected. Speak.

      Feet squared, arms hanging at her sides, she stared at him. He was always over-protective, but he shouldn’t be. He ought to trust her. I was given an instruction, and that’s all I can say.

      About Angus?

      No. I told you that was me. Not entirely the truth.

      Campbell crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture that reminded her of their dad. You shouldn’t abuse it, you know.

      That wasn’t abuse. She rolled her eyes. It was a leading. Something in Angus Finlay drew her.

      "So you did pick up something about him."

      Maybe. She neither smiled nor frowned, which brought a loud exhalation to Campbell’s lips.

      Sometimes, I think ...

      What else he said faded because another voice entered it. She signaled his silence and turned her head. Not one voice, but two, and they sounded odd.

      What?

      She brought a finger to her lips and took the knob of the left-hand door into her hand. Her touch looked through the locking mechanism into the doorframe where, vivid, she saw the pieces of it sealed in place. Concentrating on its workings, she fixed her thoughts firmly that direction and felt the knob loosen and unhasp.

      She signaled Campbell to stand back, and silently counting to three, swung it inward. A boy and girl standing half-clothed inside the room leapt apart, the girl’s shirt fluttering to the floor. Her face was flushed and hair disheveled.

      You said you locked the door, the girl said. She snatched her shirt from the ground and thrust her arms in the sleeves. Lifting her hair from beneath the collar, she flicked it behind her neck and reached for a book on a nearby shelf.

      The boy moved his gaze from the girl to the pair of them, and a glare emerged. "I did lock the door."

      Well, obviously not because she just opened it, the girl snapped. She spun around, pushing Sara aside in her haste to exit.

      Sara shifted, bumping one shoulder against the door frame, but never altering her gaze from the boy.

      I did lock the door, he said.

      A crooked smile crept on Sara’s lips. Yeah, you did. She revolved on her heel and headed back toward the hallway.

      You’re not getting out of answering my question, Campbell said.

      Sara picked up her pace and entered the stairwell ahead of him, her footsteps echoing against the block walls. I’m sure, she called back. Now, go to class or we’ll both be late.

      Angus turned the coin over in his palm, the ridges along its edge biting into his flesh. How had she done it? He compressed the sides in an attempt to push them closer together, but unsurprising, the metal didn’t budge. She was slender, delicate looking, yet he, a strong male couldn’t do the same thing? Made no sense.

      He flipped the coin over and set it in the center of his desktop. It was in a perfect u, too. Not simply bent, but bent to an exact proportion.

      Mr. Finlay, care to share with the class what’s so fascinating to you?

      Angus’s hand snaked out and covered the coin. Nothing, Mrs. Butler.

      Must be special because I’ve been calling your name for a couple minutes now.

      The class snickered on all sides, and Angus traveled his gaze around the half-amused faces. Apparently, he was today’s entertainment.

      How ’bout you put whatever it is away and concentrate on the lesson? Mrs. Butler said, smoothly.

      He dipped his chin and stuffed the coin back in his pants pocket. Reclining in the seat, he focused on her loud, floral shirt. She raised a hand toward the white board, black marker cupped in her fingers, and continued her lecture.

      Yet whatever she said next didn’t reach his ears because he was focused again on the girl. She had the most amazing eyes. They looked through you, seeming to see things inside, which was crazy because no one could do that. Wasn’t much to see about his life anyhow, except maybe how he and his stepdad weren’t getting along. Oil and water, and his stepdad was the oil. Greasy. Underhanded.

      Angus released the sour thought and returned his mind to Sara. Pale skin that almost glowed. No, had glowed. She’d had a ... halo around her. That was really the only word. It was like she’d shone from somewhere deep inside.

      Her brother appeared normal though. Odd, the two of them being in the same grade. Odd, they’d acted like such good friends. But, heck, what did he know? He had no siblings. Maybe he was losing it. Sure seemed like it.

      Mr. Finlay.

      Angus’s blinked twice.

      Mrs. Butler stood square in front of his desk, one hand on her fleshy hip. Since you’re so distracted, she said. Let’s hear what’s so very important it would consume your mind.

      The class was laughing again, at his expense. Angus draped one arm across the top of his desk. His face warmed.

      Well?

      He cleared his throat. A girl.

      The laughter increased, and the guy behind jabbed him in the back.

      Hands to yourself Mr. Shipley, Mrs. Butler said, her gaze stern. She returned it to his face. In this class?

      No.

      She gave a small snort. Then I suggest you tamp down your hormones. School is about education not your social life.

      But he’d never had much of a social life, so that wasn’t the issue, and he’d only just met Sara Benedict. He couldn’t see how his hormones were involved. No, she was unusual, plain and simple, and he was strangely fascinated.

      Mr. Finlay?

      Yes, Ma’am. I’ll do my best, he said.

      She returned to the front and once again, restarted her speech. He did his best to follow, breathing a sigh of relief at the bell. Snatching his books from the floor, he scrambled out the door with the others.

      A hand on his back brought his gaze around.

      Man, who’s the chick that’s got you so hard up?

      Angus slouched on one hip and eyed the speaker, David Tidwell. They’d never been good friends, more classmates, so he gauged his answer. New girl, he said.

      If she’s that great, maybe I need to meet her.

      You couldn’t handle her. Angus held the thought inside, unsure if he could handle her either. I gotta get to class. He moved away and was swallowed in the crowd but pulled up short at sight of Sara exiting the stairwell.

      Sara, he called.

      She paused and turned his direction. He weaved his way through the milling students to where she stood.

      Hello, Angus.

      Hey, listen ...

      She turned her head again and her gaze narrowed. Shh. Focused in one direction, she walked forward, leaving him standing in place. At the doorway to the classroom he’d just left, she halted then entered.

      Mystified, he followed. Inside the classroom, he came to a screeching halt. Mrs. Butler lay prone on the floor, her eyes open, her mouth agape. Sara bent over, cradling her head.

      I’ll go get help, he said.

      But she held up her hand. Lock the door.

      His brow furrowed. Why? She needs help.

      Just do it. I can fix this.

      But ...

      Angus Brant Finlay lock the door.

      Her use of his middle name settled in his brain. He hadn’t given her that, so how’d she know it?

      If you keep standing there, she’ll die.

      Die? Then they did need help. He extended one hand toward the door with every intention of going through it, yet his fingers did as she’d asked. The lock clicked in place.

      At the sound, Sara grasped Mrs. Butler and flipped her over. The teacher’s countenance was pale and, for all he could tell, she barely breathed. Kneeling overtop, Sara laid a hand on either side of the teacher’s face and began to croon.

      He didn’t understand the words. In fact, they weren’t English at all, but an ethereal melody that came from everywhere at once. Permeating the atmosphere, it grew in intensity to the sound of a thousand voices, a harmony of tone and timbre in perfect accord.

      Angus’s gaze widened. Sara’s voice carried over the rest yet blended with it. She was singular, yet not alone at all.

      He swallowed the knot in his throat and fingered the coin in his pocket, his nail fitting into the center of its bend. She bent a coin and now what? What was this? He stared across at her. She’d shifted her hands to Mrs. Butler’s chest, then down her frame to her belly. There, she silenced.

      She shut her eyes and cupped her palms. A radiance formed on her skin, white Light spreading outward like a vapor and yet luminous from everywhere as the sound had been. It glimmered and flashed, consuming every corner of the room, encircling even him where he stood. Then in a blaze of brilliance, it blinded his eyes and disappeared.

      The shape of things returned:  the desks, the white board, a pencil dropped in the floor. Mrs. Butler blinked up from her position in the floor.

      What happened? she asked.

      Sara glanced up at Angus. Help me get her up.

      Awestruck, he obeyed, taking hold of Mrs. Butler’s elbow then her waist. Together, he and Sara moved her across the room to her desk chair. She sat, the seat whooshing out a puff of air, and leaned her head back.

      What do you remember? Sara asked.

      Darkness. I couldn’t breathe, and then great Light. A voice said, ‘Go back.’ Wh-what happened to me?

      Sara took Mrs. Butler’s hand. You have denied the doctor’s instructions about your heart.

      Mrs. Butler raised her gaze to Sara’s face. How do you know that?

      The Creator told me. You’ve denied Him, too. But He’s not finished with you here. Go home and see the doctor. Follow his instructions. Otherwise, this will happen again. The human body is frail; we must protect it. (1)

      The bell rang in the hallway and a hand banged on the classroom door. Mrs. Butler? someone called.

      We need passes to class, Sara said.

      Of course. Mrs. Butler reached for her notepad and scribbled two excusals, handing one to each of them.

      Angus folded his in his palm.

      Sara took hold of his arm and urged him toward the door. Unlocking the knob, she pulled inward. Students fell into the room, pushing them both backward, and they moved to the side, at the next opening walking out.

      What was all that? Angus asked.

      Sara glanced at him. This way. Not releasing his arm, she pulled him behind her to the girl’s restroom. She stuck her head inside, looking back and forth, then tugged him after her. She placed her back to the door. She has a heart condition, which she’s ignored.

      Not that, he said. What you did. How did you know she was in there? And what was all the Light and sound?

      Her expression changed. She tilted her head. You experienced that?

      Yes.

      You weren’t frightened?

      He rubbed his thumb between his eyes. No, he hadn’t been. Why not? He settled for a shake of his head.

      Not everyone sees, Angus. Most are blind. They grope around in Darkness of their own making, unable to spot the hope before them. You are blessed to have observed, and it shows your heart. (2)

      My heart? I’m confused. How do you know any of this?

      The Creator speaks to me, she said. He is everywhere and all things at once. (3)

      But ...

      She raised a hand to his face. Keep these things in you, and we will talk. We must get to class. She moved away from the door and tapped him outward.

      He halted after a few steps. When? he asked. When would she explain what he’d just seen?

      My number, she said. It’s written in your notebook. Call me.

      And turning her back, she walked off.

      REFERENCES

      (1)  John 4:29

      (2)  Deuteronomy 28:19;Isaiah 59:10;Matthew 15:14;Luke 6:39;John 1:5

      (3)  Proverbs 15:3;Jeremiah 23:23-24

      CHAPTER 2

      Afternoon, my babies. How was school?

      Sara set her book bag in the floor and climbed atop the round, wooden bar stool. Stretching her hand across the counter, she stole a sugar cookie from the plate in her mother’s hands. Her mother smiled and offered the plate to Campbell.

      Eventful, thanks to her. He captured a cookie and settled at her side.

      Their mom sat the plate on the stove and reached for a dishrag. She slowly swiped the scattered crumbs into her palm. Oh? How’s that?

      Well, first, she flirts with this boy.

      I was not flirting.

      You flirted. Wasn’t any reason for you to bend the coin except you wanted to impress him.

      Sara silenced. Maybe she had flirted a little, but Campbell didn’t know the entire truth.

      What else? their mom asked. She rinsed the rag in the sink and draped it over the enamel edge.

      "Then she finds a pair of kids in flagrante delicto in a storage closet."

      They needed to be found, Sara said.

      Did her whole door-unlocking thing.

      Their mother’s smile broadened. Sara took a bite of her cookie, the sugary sweetness satisfying on her tongue.

      Never could keep her in anywhere, her mother said.

      Sara grinned. Bad habits die hard.

      Campbell exhaled and took a moment to consume his cookie. Then he swallowed and eyed the distant plate. She had to top it off though, he said. Do the ultimate thing on the first day of school.

      Campbell, don’t make fun. Sara scowled. If I hadn’t been there ...

      Yes, but you were, and now, you’ve gotten Angus involved.

      Angus? Their mother interrupted their spat.

      Angus Finlay, the same boy she was flirting with. He comes up to talk to her, and she senses something’s wrong, ends up with some teacher who’s had a heart attack.

      You saved her? their mom asked.

      Sara nodded. The Creator told me to go downstairs, but I didn’t know why because my next class was practically across the hall from the first one. I had to obey. I saw Angus and figured maybe it was because of him. (1)

      Campbell made a face. In your dreams.

      Sara smacked him in the arm. You leave my dreams out of this. I like him.

      Children.

      They calmed.

      So how is this boy, Angus, now involved? their mother asked.

      He experienced the whole thing, heard the sound, saw the Light.

      He saw it?

      Sara nodded. Said he did, and he wanted an explanation, so I gave him my number.

      I’ll bet, Campbell returned.

      Enough. Their mom waved her hand. Be nice to your sister. She’s entitled to like someone if she wants.

      "But she can’t like someone because her future is ..."

      Stop deciding my future, Sara said, interrupting him. It’s no more set in stone than yours. Others have gone on to marry, have families. Who’s to say I won’t? Not everyone’s chosen to be like Paul. (2)

      Those who aren’t are few and far between, and you know it. What makes you think you’re special?

      Sara jumped from the stool, taking hold of her book bag, and left the room. Darkness rumbled in her belly, fighting with the Light in her heart. She couldn’t afford to get angry. If she gave in to human emotion, she risked all she’d worked seventeen years to obtain. (3)

      She closed herself in her bedroom and fell down on her knees. Head inverted, face buried in the bed cover, she dedicated herself to prayer. Prayer for her brother, who tried too hard to control things he shouldn’t. Prayer for the teacher she’d saved. Prayer for Angus Finlay.

      All wasn’t right with him. She’d known that from the start, but for once, had kept it to herself. Trouble at home. Someone he fought against. That was as clear as the signal had gotten. Yet he’d experienced the Light, which meant he was pure, and purity was the first quality.

      Purity. Faithfulness. Temperance. Meekness. Strength. Only one who exhibited all five would be right, and she wanted him to be right. The temptation to beg ensnared her, yet she did not. God responded to obedience and faith, not pleading. In the end, His plans for her would come to fulfillment only through patience and grace. (4)

      She rose from the floor and stood at the window. The afternoon sun heated her skin, and she soaked it in, allowing the Darkness her anger created to flee. A knock came at the door.

      Hey, can I come in?

      Campbell. Okay, she called.

      The door opened, and he stepped gingerly into the room. I’m sorry. You had to pray, huh?

      She nodded.

      I’ll try not to make you mad again. He walked up behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

      She patted his cheek. You didn’t mean to. I know you care about me, but you’re going to have to trust me on this one.

      Ok, but I’m worried. You’re not yourself.

      She revolved on her heel, and he gathered her in his arms. You’ll tell me if you need me?

      She nodded, unspeaking. If I ever figure it all out.

      The house was empty and dark, but then it always was at this hour and would remain so until about eight p.m. when his stepdad came home. His mom wouldn’t show up until closer to ten, and she’d be tired, grumpy.

      She worked too hard to make up for the lack of effort on his stepdad’s part. He had a job, some low-paying construction work, but Angus strongly suspected he pocketed most of that for the nights he was out drinking. His mother denied it, saying, He’s a good man. Her way of covering over the truth.

      Angus dumped his books on the counter and raided the refrigerator. A can of soda in hand and a couple slices of leftover pizza, he headed for the living room, at the last second taking his notebook with him. He sank onto the couch and turned on the TV to consume his snack. Fifteen minutes later, he hit mute. The picture on the screen flashed blue and orange on the walls. Unseeing, he stared past it at the vision in his head, Sara kneeling

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