high school?”
“Some,” Reggie said. “At reunions. Homecoming games. I run into her in town once in a while. Why?”
“I don’t know. She strikes me as being a little strange. Seems more annoyed that Jay created a problem for her than she is about him being missing.”
Reggie laughed. “Sue Ann thinks about Sue Ann first. Hasn’t changed that much since high school.”
“Well, I don’t suppose anyone would be happy about having their honeymoon interrupted.”
Deputy Billy Gene Duncan came out of the woods and hurried over to Virgil, carrying something in his gloved hand.
“Sir, I think I might’ve found Abby’s iPhone. SIM card’s gone. But the initials AKC are written on the back in white marker—like her mama told us.”
“Where’d you find it?” Virgil said.
“In the woods. Not far from where Kevin found them footprints.”
Virgil patted him on the back. “Good work, Billy Gene. Dust it for prints. Abby’s SIM card records didn’t tell us anything useful. But fingerprints just might.”
Abby nestled next to Jay, Ella lying with her head in Abby’s lap. The only sound in the dark pit was the sound of their breathing … and as long as they had breath, Abby wasn’t giving up. She had prayed until she didn’t know what else to say. What more could she ask for? Surely God had heard her prayers for help. Surely He would answer.
The thought that everything she believed about God might be a myth crossed Abby’s mind, but she quickly dismissed it. There was no way she had manufactured the joy that welled up in her after she got out of the pew, walked down to the front of the church, and made her profession of faith. That decision had been life-changing.
But God had never tested her faith until now. What if He didn’t answer her prayers? What if he let Isaiah hurt her—or kill her? Would she still believe God was good?
Lord, I love You. I do. And I want to live with You in heaven—someday. I don’t want to die yet. I’ve just begun to live my life. Mama needs me. She won’t handle losing me, too. And my sister deserves a real life. It’s so unfair that she had to live with Isaiah and Otha. Please … just help us get out of here.
Abby heard the outside door open and close. Terror seized her and rendered her mute.
Ella squealed and sat up straight, clinging to Abby’s shirt with both hands. She was trembling.
Abby and Jay shared a terrified glance as he rose, defiant and protective. His knees had to be shaking.
A few seconds later, a thirtyish woman with her hair tied back looked down at them through the grate in the trapdoor.
“Otha!” Ella cried.
“I come to git y’all outta there, but we ain’t got much time. Isaiah’s out sloppin’ them pigs and can’t see the root cellar. But you hafta take Ella with you. He’s plannin’ to kill her.”
“We will!” Abby said. “That’s why we’re here.”
“Isaiah said y’all was here to make trouble—to tell lies ’bout how Ella come to be.”
“No,” Abby said, “we—”
“Hush! It don’t matter now. Ella ain’t safe here no more.” Otha slid back the latch and strained as she opened the trapdoor. “You tell the law her mama died when she was born and her pa never did take to her. That’s the plain truth of it. They can find her a proper home.”
“Isaiah lied to you!” Abby said. “Her mother didn’t die in childbirth. Ella isn’t even his. Isaiah stole her—kidnapped her. He led you to believe Ella was his by his first wife. But she’s not. I know because she’s my sister.”
Otha slid the ladder down the wall. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“It’s true. I was there,” Jay said. “Five years ago, I accidentally shot Ella’s real father when I was out target practicing.”
While Jay told Otha the short version of what had happened that day, Abby helped Ella get her foot on the bottom rung and pushed her up the ladder.
“I didn’t know Isaiah wasn’t her dad,” Jay said. “I was just a scared kid who wanted to go home and forget it ever happened.”
“Isaiah took my sister,” Abby said, following Ella up the ladder. “He changed her name and passed her off as his daughter. I don’t know where he buried my daddy. But my family’s been grieving terribly ever since. None of them know the truth yet.”
“I’ve heard enough.” Otha looked as though she’d seen a ghost. “Don’t tell me no more. Just git Ella to a