the circumstances of Perry’s death, it was a relief that someone mentioned him outright. She almost smiled.
Noticing the way her features relaxed, Abby frowned. “I said the wrong thing, didn’t I?”
“Nee. It’s just that I started realizing that of course you wouldn’t have wanted to find my brother the way you did. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I don’t know why I found him. No matter how hard I’ve tried, I haven’t been able to understand why God led me to that spot.” Her voice lowered. “It was so scary.”
For the first time, she saw the event through Abby’s eyes. “I imagine you were terribly frightened.”
“Frightened and afraid.” Still not looking her way, Abby added, “And so alone. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so alone.”
Deborah thought that was curious, for sure. She’d heard that Abby had been with two friends. Had they abandoned her? Though she’d just been feeling alone herself, she dug deep and tried to offer solace. “I’ve come to realize that some things are God’s will and that it isn’t up to us to wonder why we are put in difficult situations. Or wonderful-gut ones. Sometimes all we need to know is that it is His will.”
“And you believe that?”
“I have to. If God isn’t involved in our lives, then we are completely alone, and we can’t have that.”
Finally, Abby stared at her. “I suppose.”
“I suppose that, too.” Deborah smiled and felt a warmth spread inside her when Abby returned the smile. Impulsively, she spoke. “You know what? I’m on my way home, but would you like to go to Mary King Yoder’s instead? A slice of pie sounds like a good idea.”
After a moment’s pause, Abby nodded. “I’d like that.” When they started walking in the direction of the restaurant housed in a somewhat rough-looking trailer, Abby spoke. “Deborah, this is nice.”
“What is?”
“Meeting you out of the blue. Having you not hate me.”
“I would never hate you for finding my brother’s body.” She paused, thinking about what Abby had said, wondering why she had to be the one to find her brother’s body.
“You know, I’ve wondered time and again why the Lord picked my brother to take the path he went on. I’ve been angry and hurt and I’ve prayed.” Deborah thought about continuing, but she didn’t have any more to add. She had done all those things—but so far, they hadn’t seemed to make much of a difference.
“Did you get answers?” Hope shone in Abby’s eyes. “Did God talk to you?”
Deborah considered lying. It would be the kinder thing, surely, to offer Abby some sort of hope in an almost hopeless situation. But she was so tired of lying. And keeping secrets. She just didn’t think she was capable of covering up one more. “Truthfully? No.”
“Oh.”
“But that doesn’t mean He won’t,” she declared. If she’d learned one thing since hearing about Perry’s death—and then discovering what was in his room—it was that sometimes hope was the only thing a person was able to cling to.
Chapter 10
“Some say a fool can’t be trusted. I prefer to say that a fool can’t be trusted twice.”
AARON SCHROCK
Frannie Eicher was bored. She had now been in her beige hospital room for twenty-four hours, and that was twenty-three hours too long. There was truly no reason to still be trapped there. She felt fine now. Almost good.
Okay, good was stretching things a bit. Her face was bruised and swollen, and there were too many cuts on her face to count. Above all that, her eye ached. She was more tired than she could ever remember being, and her brain felt a little fuzzy.
But all that aside, she was definitely well enough to be released from her side of the beige, sterile room. After Luke left, the walls seemed to close in on her, making her feel like she was trapped in a closet.
More than anything, she ached to open a window and have the fresh air fan her face and cool her worries. But the nurse had told her that the windows were not made to be opened.
As her roommate’s voice grew louder on the phone—truly the woman had more friends and problems than a whole congregation—Frannie gritted her teeth.
Which is how the doctor found her.
“You’re looking pretty upset, Frannie,” he said after checking her pulse and reading her chart. “Is the pain worse?”
“Nee. I just don’t like being here.”
His worried expression eased. “You’d be surprised how many people tell me that. No one likes being in the hospital.”
“The windows