a world that sometimes blindsides us with heartbreak, my prayer is that you experience that peace, too, clinging to God as your anchor—no matter what the future holds. Drop me a line through my website at www.sarakparker.com. I’d love to hear from you.
With love,
Sara K. Parker
To Kai, Noah, Rayne and Aaliyah—You are my fiercest encouragers and my very own live-in comedians. You are also kind, compassionate and stronger than you know. Your smiles and laughter remind me daily to lay every burden at the feet of Jesus and seek joy. May the years ahead be full of happiness, love, growth and opportunities to bless others.
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The car was gone. Ella Camden was sure of it.
She’d spent the better part of twenty minutes peering through the taxi’s back window just to be certain.
Somewhere amid Friday rush hour traffic between Route 97 and the Baltimore-Washington Parkway, the silver sedan that had been following her had disappeared.
“I don’t see it anymore,” she said into her cell phone, finally facing forward again and slumping against the seat.
“Don’t you dare have that driver turn around,” Autumn Simmons responded, her tone unusually serious.
That was exactly what Ella wanted to do, though: tell the cabdriver to forget it. Turn the car around and take her back to her mom’s house. She sank down lower in her seat, her grip tight on the phone. “I’m probably just being paranoid,” she said, echoing the words of her sisters, several coworkers, her doctors...everyone except Autumn. “My injury—”
“Don’t even go there.” Autumn cut her off. “No way you’ve imagined a silver car following you home three days in a row.”
Her friend’s words brought on an unsettling mixture of reassurance and fear. On the one hand, it was a relief to know that she had an ally who didn’t think she was losing her marbles. On the other hand, Autumn’s support meant that Ella could truly be in danger. If she was in danger, she needed help. There was only one place she could go for that, one person who might be able to figure things out—which was why she’d had the driver change course in the first place. But now she was having second thoughts.
“The office is probably closed,” she hedged, knowing full well she could simply make a phone call to find out.
“Look,” Autumn said, her voice urgent. “If you turn around, I’ll take myself up there right now and tell Roman DeHart you’re too chicken to face him, but you need his help.”
Autumn’s pushy nature was as much an annoyance as it was a confirmation that this was no time to take risks. Ella hadn’t realized how much she’d missed their friendship. She’d let distance and time do what they did best—water down old memories and fill the empty spaces with new ones.
“I’m not chicken.”
