CHAPTER 9
“Mia, how good to see you.” The woman standing on my porch steps in and wraps me up in a giant hug. “How are you, dear? You remember me, don’t you?” She lets out a chuckle. I’m not sure what’s so funny, but I’m relieved to say that yes, I do know her.
“Is your Dad home?” she asks.
I nod. “He’s in his office. Doing some work.”
Sandy gives me a smile and steps into the foyer. I’ve known her for years. Her husband’s the pastor at our church, and she ran one of the teen girls Bible studies I used to belong to.
“Well, I don’t know if you remember this,” Sandy says, “but I’ve been coming over here every Tuesday to pray with you and talk through anything you might want to chat about.”
Good. This is better than some emergency number written out on the fridge. Sandy can actually hel
