Tomorrow's Sun (Lost Sanctuary) - By Becky Melby Page 0,20

anticlimactic. Moldy leaves, a plastic straw, and a bottle cap were the archaeological treasures stirred up by the tip of her cane. No handle to a trapdoor, no footprints turned to stone. She needed the shovel from the shed.

Preparing to hoist unladylike to her feet, she drew one knee to her chest. The fingers of her right hand slid over a plank bordering the square hole. Instead of wrapping around the board, her fingers arched around something cylindrical. Lowering her knee, she leaned into the opening.

A short pipe, about a foot long, hung by two hooks. Both ends were sealed. Her hand closed around the pipe. It was rusted to the hooks. She tried dislodging it then stopped, considering for a moment that, whatever it was, she shouldn’t be disturbing it without gloves or without permission. As if she were trespassing. As if the house and its contents belonged to someone else. But the very fact that the pipe seemed to serve no purpose made taking a closer look seem vital.

Shaking off the eeriness, she twisted the pipe. Rust flakes crumbled onto her wrist and the hooks released their hold. She sat back and raised the pipe in both hands. Black and rust-pocked and heavier than it appeared. On one end, a tab of metal about half an inch long protruded from the end. She tried to turn it, tapped it against the porch floor, and then tried again. The disk sealing the pipe rotated then pulled free. She scrambled to her feet and took two long strides to the railing. Sunlight landed on yellowed paper.

Breath held, she withdrew the scrolled papers. Two words, barely legible in faded brown script, caught her eye.

Perhaps tomorrow.

CHAPTER 6

Emily stood in her attic hideaway, the three letters she’d found in the pipe nesting together on her open hand like a brittle leaf. She read the top one.

November 3, 1852

If you are reading this, you have come back for me. I do not deserve it, for it is my fault you had to run. If only I could do things over again, I would never have lied. I would have done just as you said. If you were here, I would be on my knees begging for forgiveness. Please wait here for me. You will be safe. They must believe Papa acted without my knowledge for even those I know to be unsympathetic show concern that I have been left alone. I cannot leave until I know what will become of him. No one tells me anything. I am leaving before dawn to talk to Jonathan. I am terrified of making the trip to Racine alone but fear is becoming my daily companion. Fear for you consumes me day and night though I try to commit it to the Lord. The first verse of the 46th Psalm is my constant prayer for you. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear. “May God shelter you beneath His wings until you are in my arms. Soon, I pray. Perhaps tomorrow.

Jake was right about the room.

As the knowledge took root and coursed along nerve pathways with tingling speed, a door opened below her. Muted voices traversed the stairs. Handling the letters as if they would dissolve at her touch, she wrapped them in tissue paper and laid them in a plastic box on top of her T-shirts, eased the cover on, and latched it.

“Emily?”

Her name, echoing through the house in a man’s voice, did nothing to steady her legs as she closed the door behind her like a woman with nothing to hide.

“I’ll be down in a minute!” He’d assume her breathlessness came from exertion. Not telling him felt deceptive. But she needed to read all three letters before deciding whether or not to divulge her secret.

By the time she reached the bottom step, she’d slowed the adrenaline from a zinging rush to a steady drip. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” Jake’s eyebrows converged. “You look all flushed.”

“Just…the stairs.” Sometimes playing the handicap card came in handy. “Hi, Lexi. Nice to see you again.”

Jake nodded unconvincingly and introduced her to his nephew. “Adam’s the genius in the family.”

“Hey!” Lexi’s lip curled. “Our IQs are identical.”

“But your grades aren’t.” Jake’s smirk didn’t falter with the jab to his arm. He grinned at Emily. “They’ve been in a twins study since birth. Makes for interesting competition.”

Emily extended her hand to the boy with wavy hair that apparently had never made friends with