she stepped away from him, breaking contact. Although his touch seemed to calm her, she accepted the fact he was being polite, that’s all. She didn’t want to rely or depend on Morgan, or anyone else, for that matter. She’d learned years ago, after Dad died, that people you depended on could be taken away, which is why she’d developed a healthy sense of self-reliance.
As they headed for Morgan’s truck in the parking lot, she refocused on Andy, stoking hope in her heart that he was still out there fighting his way back to safety.
“What’s your address?” Morgan said, turning on the car.
“It’s 109 John Street. It’s by the Seattle Center.”
“We should make it quick.”
“You think someone’s watching the apartment?”
“It’s possible.” He glanced at her and cracked a slight smile. “Nothing to worry about. You’ve got your trusty bodyguard.”
She wanted to smile back, but couldn’t focus past the image of the dead boy.
“How do you do that?” she said.
“What?”
“Smile after seeing something so horrible?”
“It’s tragic, Jules, but death is a part of life. Besides, he’s—”
“Don’t say it.”
“What?”
“That he’s at peace with the Lord.”
“But—”
“Let me ask you something.” Jules squared off at him. “Where is God when these kids are fighting for their lives? When they’re abandoned by their parents, who are supposedto love and care for them? When they’re sleeping in the freezing cold under an overpass, or…or digging in garbage cans for food?”
“With good comes evil, Jules. You know that. It’s not God’s role to fix everything for us. Challenges make us stronger, and faith in God gives us the strength to be able to carry our burdens.”
Julie shook her head and glanced out the front window. “He never listens to my prayers.”
“He listens. You’re just not getting the answers you’re expecting.”
“Whatever.” She didn’t want to talk about it anymore, argue or discuss God. It always frustrated her.
They headed past the Seattle Public Library and north on Fourth Avenue. Not wanting to be obvious that she was leaving for an extended period of time, Julie had packed light, stuffing her backpack with essentials, figuring she could buy clothes when she got to Port Whisper, or better yet, borrow from Lana.
“Do you know your neighbors?” Morgan asked.
“Not well. I leave early and get home past seven most nights.”
“Long day.”
“Says the guy who’s on duty every day of his life.”
“We have that in common,” Morgan said. “What?”
“Our jobs are also our vocations. You dedicate your life to teenagers and I dedicate mine to the citizens of Port Whisper. Of course, I know you probably think mine is a cakewalk compared to what you see every day, but you’d be surprised.”
“What do you mean?”
“As the chief, and son of the previous chief, everyone looks up to me and confides in me. There’s stress in being perfect all the time, stress in counseling people when I have no training in psychology. I hope I respond in a helpful way, either by offering advice, or just listening. But I never really know.”
“How do you decide what to do?”
“I pray for guidance. I know you don’t want to hear that, but God is the beacon of light as I navigate my way through life. When all else fails, I add the person to my daily prayer list.”
“You pray every day?”
“First thing in the morning, right before breakfast. It energizes me, helps me focus on what’s important.” He glanced at her, then back to the cars ahead. “Guess that makes me a dork or something.”
“No, I just don’t remember you being so religious.”
“Don’t you remember us going to church together? Holding hands as we sang the hymns?”
She did, but didn’t want to. She couldn’t deal with the emotional pain of the past right now.
“I guess,” she said.
“I sought God’s light to help me cope with Dad’s moods, to help
As they headed for Morgan’s truck in the parking lot, she refocused on Andy, stoking hope in her heart that he was still out there fighting his way back to safety.
“What’s your address?” Morgan said, turning on the car.
“It’s 109 John Street. It’s by the Seattle Center.”
“We should make it quick.”
“You think someone’s watching the apartment?”
“It’s possible.” He glanced at her and cracked a slight smile. “Nothing to worry about. You’ve got your trusty bodyguard.”
She wanted to smile back, but couldn’t focus past the image of the dead boy.
“How do you do that?” she said.
“What?”
“Smile after seeing something so horrible?”
“It’s tragic, Jules, but death is a part of life. Besides, he’s—”
“Don’t say it.”
“What?”
“That he’s at peace with the Lord.”
“But—”
“Let me ask you something.” Jules squared off at him. “Where is God when these kids are fighting for their lives? When they’re abandoned by their parents, who are supposedto love and care for them? When they’re sleeping in the freezing cold under an overpass, or…or digging in garbage cans for food?”
“With good comes evil, Jules. You know that. It’s not God’s role to fix everything for us. Challenges make us stronger, and faith in God gives us the strength to be able to carry our burdens.”
Julie shook her head and glanced out the front window. “He never listens to my prayers.”
“He listens. You’re just not getting the answers you’re expecting.”
“Whatever.” She didn’t want to talk about it anymore, argue or discuss God. It always frustrated her.
They headed past the Seattle Public Library and north on Fourth Avenue. Not wanting to be obvious that she was leaving for an extended period of time, Julie had packed light, stuffing her backpack with essentials, figuring she could buy clothes when she got to Port Whisper, or better yet, borrow from Lana.
“Do you know your neighbors?” Morgan asked.
“Not well. I leave early and get home past seven most nights.”
“Long day.”
“Says the guy who’s on duty every day of his life.”
“We have that in common,” Morgan said. “What?”
“Our jobs are also our vocations. You dedicate your life to teenagers and I dedicate mine to the citizens of Port Whisper. Of course, I know you probably think mine is a cakewalk compared to what you see every day, but you’d be surprised.”
“What do you mean?”
“As the chief, and son of the previous chief, everyone looks up to me and confides in me. There’s stress in being perfect all the time, stress in counseling people when I have no training in psychology. I hope I respond in a helpful way, either by offering advice, or just listening. But I never really know.”
“How do you decide what to do?”
“I pray for guidance. I know you don’t want to hear that, but God is the beacon of light as I navigate my way through life. When all else fails, I add the person to my daily prayer list.”
“You pray every day?”
“First thing in the morning, right before breakfast. It energizes me, helps me focus on what’s important.” He glanced at her, then back to the cars ahead. “Guess that makes me a dork or something.”
“No, I just don’t remember you being so religious.”
“Don’t you remember us going to church together? Holding hands as we sang the hymns?”
She did, but didn’t want to. She couldn’t deal with the emotional pain of the past right now.
“I guess,” she said.
“I sought God’s light to help me cope with Dad’s moods, to help
Similar Books
