I think it’s best if you wait.I’m trying to adjust to what I learned, and I feel like I need a little time alone.
She didn’t want to see him? Tension snaked across his shoulders.
You told me once, she wrote,that if I wasn’t ready to tell you something, Ishould simply say that to you outright. Is that offerstill open?
Yes.
Thank you, she texted.And I’m sorry to be so cryptic. I’m really sorry. See you tomorrow evening?
Sure.
He waited for another response from her. None came.
After pocketing the phone, he interlaced his hands behind his head and tilted his face to the branches and the backdrop of sky.
Since coming to Misty River, he’d given everyone space and expected everyone to give him space in return. That’s how he’d wanted things, so that’s how things had been.
However, it was no longer in his nature to give Gen space. Clearly, she’d learned something terrible today. He wanted her to tell him about it. Not just for his sake, but for hers. If she was anxious or depressed, keeping quiet and shutting herself off from everyone was the worst thing she could do.
She’d gone eighty-six days without Oxy.Eighty-six days.
However, he knew from experience that no matter how much time had passed, when an addict was miserable, they were also susceptible. If she was in enough pain, she might sabotage herself by taking Oxy.
His blood chilled at the thought.
He could wait until she drove away, search her house, and make sure she didn’t have Oxy—
No. If he wanted her trust, which he did, he’d have to earn it. He’d never earn it by standing in judgment of her, only by coming alongside in support.
To gain her trust, he first needed to give his trust.
She’d told him the last time he’d let himself into her guesthouse, back before they started dating, that it had hurt her to know he’d searched her things. It would hurt her much worse now, so he refused to do it.
At ten o’clock that night, Genevieve sat cross-legged on the small patch of floor at the end of her bed, her back propped against the wall. Her candle flickered, and a mug of tea waited within arm’s reach. Her laptop sat on the floor before her, playing one of her fluffy romantic comedies.
Unfortunately, all her bids at comforting herself were falling short.
She felt both covered in a blanket of desolation and stripped naked. Her mind couldn’t focus on the movie, because it was too busy gnawing on fears over her family’s future.
When it became known that her parents had framed the Shoal Creek Killer for Russell’s murder, the court of public opinion would be brutal. The fact that Mom and Dad had gone on to marry, have two daughters, and raise them as if Russell Atwell had been nothing more than a bump in the road would lead people to conclude that they were heartless and guilty.
She could picture herself on camera saying,“I know them! That’s how I know they’re telling thetruth about what happened. Neither of them could have planned to murder Russell.”Strangers from coast to coast would think her impossibly naïve.
Even if, by some miracle, Dad was charged, tried, and acquitted because he’d acted in self-defense, his reputation and career could never, ever be salvaged. He was the county DA, for heaven’s sake. An elected official.
The scandal would ruin her mother just as thoroughly. Mom was deeply proud of the family she’d raised. She basked in the respect of her peers, her identity as a community volunteer, her daughters’ success, and her flourishing grandchildren.
This time moving to a fresh city wouldn’t solve her parents’ problems the way it had when they’d moved to Savannah. This time they’d be known anywhere they tried to hide. The fallout would cage them as surely as rubble had once caged her and Natasha.
As soon as she’d returned to the cottage today, she’d knelt and prayed over the situation. She’d pled with God, cried, bent her head low and begged.
She hadn’t sensed His mercy. She hadn’t been able to grab hold of His unconditional love. Even that word,unconditional, hadbecome head knowledge for her, not heart knowledge, because her mistakes and her parents’ mistakes were so close and enormous.
Her failure to keep her relationship with the Lord vibrant, and her dependence on painkillers, and her secrecy concerning all of it rendered her a fake. She had absolutely no business serving the Lord as a Bible teacher.
She shut her laptop, silencing the movie. Drawing her knees toward her torso, she banded her arms around them as if to hold herself together.
She’d put Sam off by telling him that she’d see him tomorrow. The woman who’d had the courage to stand in front of thousands and preach the Gospel was now faltering at the prospect of having to speak to just one man. If she told Sam about her parents, she’d be giving him enormous power over them. He could go to the nearest police station and tell them everything.
