“Is your father the DA?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Do he and your mom know?”
She flinched.My parents.Heaven help her, they’d been expecting her to arrive last night and were probably frantic with worry. She was a terrible,terriblehuman being. She yanked her phone from her purse and saw that she had twelve missed calls and twenty-three text messages.
Thrusting her phone into her back pocket, she began tossing armloads of clothing into her suitcase. “Are you asking if my parents know that I slept here last night? Because unfortunately, the answer’s no.”
“I’m asking if they know about your prescription drug habit.”
She stilled momentarily, then resumed packing with even more gusto. “I don’t have a prescription drug habit.” She zipped the suitcase and wedged her feet into her boots.
“What kind of work do you do, Genevieve?”
“I’m an author and speaker.”
“An author of what?”
She stuck her pillow under her arm and faced him. “Bible studies.”
His brows lifted.
“I apologize for sleeping in your cottage last night,” she said. “I’m more than happy to pay you to cover any expenses.”
“Don’t bother.”
“Alrighty, then! Um. Thank you.”
He simply glared.
She rushed toward her Volvo carrying her belongings. His footfalls followed as far as the cottage’s porch. She heaved everything into her trunk, then hurried around to the driver’s seat, desperate to escape Sam Turner’s knowing stare.
Luke
The sudden darkness steals my view of the shaking basement. My heart thunders almost as loud as the building rumbles.Earthquake.A few minutes ago, our youth pastor asked some of us to put away the sports equipment we used today at camp. I know where it’s stored, so I’m in front. I’m leading them—responsible for them. And now I have to find my brother, Ethan, and get him and the rest of the kids out of this hallway into the room ahead, where it’s safer.
I reach back into nothingness. I reach farther and connect with someone’s arm. I drag the person forward into the central room where the basement’s two hallways meet. There are pillars here. Arches. Two thin windows set high at sidewalk level. Their light reveals Ben’s face.
“What do we do?” he screams, his eyes round.
“You wait here. I’ll get the others.” I plunge back into the hallway.
Chapter Two
She’d made herself—high-achieving, rule-following Genevieve Woodward—into a house crasher.
The peaceful hum of her Volvo’s engine juxtaposed with her frightened pulse and spiked adrenaline. She’d just ended a phone call with her parents, during which she’d apologized profusely and informed them that she was on her way to their house.
Unfortunately, neither the phone call nor the miles she was putting between herself and Sam allowed Genevieve to outrun the truth of what had just happened.
She’d known for a long time that she couldn’t continue as she had been. This morning’s events had simply added a flashing neon exclamation point to the knowledge that she nowmust quittaking painkillers.
Like a windmill converting wind into energy, she’d converted the hardships she’d endured in the past into success. There was no reason to think the same couldn’t become true of this current hardship.
At the age of twelve, she’d survived a natural disaster. She’d come through it certain that she was destined to do big things for God, and sure enough, that event had launched her onto an international platform she’d used to lift high the name of Jesus.
At the age of twenty, she’d faced a devastating breakup. The sorrow of that had motivated her to dive into Scripture, which had inspired her to write her first Bible study, which had eventually led to her writing and speaking ministry.
