Page 58 of Property of Quake

Except Melissa never said she knew Tom. She didn’t know his name, just that the picture was of the man who hurt her. What she did say is that she saw Carrie and Tom talking.

I glance across the room. Melissa is curled into a ball, Stella close.

Quake paces the length of the suite, the tension radiating from him is almost tangible. Every muscle in his body appears locked tight, his jaw clenched so hard I'm surprised his teeth don't crack.

Finally, he stops near the couch. "Melissa."

The little girl immediately looks at him.

"Do you remember when you saw them together?"

She wipes at her eyes. "A little."

"Can you tell us about it?" His voice is gentle like it always is with her.

Melissa nods. "It was after the accident,” she says, repeating what she already told us.

Quake crouches in front of her. "Where were you?"

The little girl thinks for several seconds. "At the park."

"A park?" I ask because that doesn’t make sense.

She nods. “Carrie took me there before she brought me to Sacred Haven.”

Now I'm confused. “Why?”

“I dunno,” she says with a shrug. “She told me to go play, but I was sad and didn’t want to.”

“Go on,” Quake encourages.

“I hid under the slide and watched her,” she continues. “I was afraid she was going to leave me there.”

“But she didn’t,” I say absently.

“Nope. That guy came, and they talked for a while.”

“Did you hear anything they said?” he asks.

“No, but I think they were mad at each other. They were yelling, and people were staring.” Melissa pushes to her feet. “I’m tired. Can I go to bed?”

Quake and I exchange a look before he says, “Sure, sweetheart.” He stands and walks toward me. “Go ahead and get her to sleep. I’ve gotta go fill Lyric in.”

“Okay.”

It takes an hour, but Melissa finally settles into a restless sleep. I cover her with the blanket and tiptoe to the couch where I sit with my legs curled under me.

So much has happened since the moment Sister Beatrice introduced me to Mr. Jeffries. At the time, I was a twenty-three year old woman who knew exactly what lay ahead. Now, a few weeks later, nothing is as it should be.

My faith is being tested, and I’m not at all thrilled that I find it lacking. My devotion to a God that would allow children to endure what Melissa has makes me sick. With each passing day, I fall further and further down a path that’s unknown territory, and despite the horror of the situation…

I don’t hate where I’m at, spiritually, mentally, or physically.

17

QUAKE

I’ve spent the better part of two weeks convincing myself that kissing Whitney didn’t change anything. The problem is, my arguments hold no water. They’re stupid and irrational because the kiss changed everything.