But Mary nodded, like Michelle referred people to her church every day of the week. “Meetings usually start at seven, but if you’d rather not have to come after sunset, Pastor Brooker always opens the doors early. He’s here, if you’d like to meet him.” Before Jesse could stop her, Mary turned and called for him, her voice filling the small space.
Before the other man even stepped into the room, Jesse knew he couldn’t deal with this. He wished Emma were there. He wanted Gideon. Brooker’s not the same. He’s not the same man. And he believed that. He believed the man who acted as pastor in this church wouldn’t harm him. But the past six months hadn’t been dictated by logic, by what he believed. The past six months had been dictated by the physical memory of violation. A memory that seeped in
