have your spirit. You lost so much more than I did. You should be angry and bitter and—”
“Don’t you believe God is totally in control of everything?”
“I can’t believe that.” I was in control. If you only knew. I determined your fate.
“Haven’t you seen good stuff come out of what you went through?”
“No.” Emily pressed both hands to her face.
“I think you’re wrong.” Sierra’s soft words filled the darkness. “I don’t think I lost more than you, Em. I think you lost the most precious thing a woman can lose.”
Emily’s tears ran silently until Sierra got up and sat beside her and put her arms around her. This was wrong. So wrong. She pulled away. “I deserved…” The words slipped out unbidden.
“No! Emily, that’s not true. Is that what you think? God doesn’t work like that.”
The dank air left the room. She couldn’t make her lungs expand. Breaths came in shallow pants. Her heart raced.
“Emily.” Sierra reached out, felt for her arm, and grabbed on to it. “You know I forgave you, right? I mean, we never talked about it, but you know I don’t hold it against you, don’t you? We all make mis—”
“What—” Her head felt light, her skin clammy. “What do you know?”
“That you were partying with some people and you took drugs before we—”
A tight, strained gasp escaped. “When did you… ?”
“Em, we’ve known all along. The people you partied with talked to Mom at the resort and—”
“She didn’t report it.”
“No. Of course not. She didn’t know if you were even going to live and you lost the baby and—”
“You knew? And you still…”
“Still what? Still love you?” Sierra’s grip tightened. “I was angry at first. Depressed and hopeless, screaming at God, asking ‘Why?’ And then He showed me that ‘Why?’ is a stupid question we have no business asking. If anyone should have screamed ‘Why?’ it was Jesus. But He didn’t. He trusted His Father and look what happened.”
“But you’re not Jesus. You were a child with a beautiful future stretching ahead and—”
“Stop.” Sierra’s command was tinged with irritation. “I’m still going to have a beautiful future. Sure, there’s a lot I’ll miss. Life is hard this way, but what I’m not going to do is”—she slammed her hand on the bench—“I’m not going to be a slave to this! I’m not going to go through life like I’ve got chains around me. God could have stopped you from taking Ecstasy. He could have stopped me from putting on my skis. I don’t know why He didn’t. I’ll never know why. What I have to do is let Him guide me, just the way I took your arm going down the stairs. And He’s doing it. I can still dance, Em! I have a wonderful family and friends and now I have a boyfriend. I’m blind, but I’m not locked in a little room like this with no way out.” She pulled her hand away. “And you shouldn’t be either.”
The words stung. Emily closed her arms over her chest.
“Can I pray for you, Em?”
She wanted to say no, wanted to run from the black room. But she said nothing. And Sierra prayed.
“Lord, we know it is never Your will to keep us in darkness. You are the One who leads us into the light of Your love and mercy and forgiveness. Emily knows You have forgiven her. Help her to embrace that truth with every cell of her being. Grant her the courage to step out of the dark and walk in the freedom of Your light.”
October 23, 1852
“Can you swim, Isaiah?”
“No, sir.”
Liam stared at the tightly curled black hair of the man who sat on the bench with his head bowed. “Are you well enough to run if you need to?”
Isaiah nodded, lifting his face to the lantern Hannah held above him. “Do you know what a gazelle is, Mr. Liam?” His voice undulated in a way not common to the runaways they’d met thus far.
“I have read of them.”
“There were many where I grew up. When I was a boy, my father called me Gazelle. He said I bounded through the woods like an animal with winged feet.” His smile failed to touch sad eyes. “I am older and sorrow has taken strength from me, but in here”—he thumped his chest with a large, open hand—“I am still a young gazelle.”
Liam nodded and returned his smile. “I hope you will not need to run tonight, but it is a comfort to know you