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Authors: Michael John Sullivan
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stray tissues. “I haven’t made up my mind whether I’m going to go through that hell.”
“Can’t you get in touch with your boyfriend’s family?”
“He’s an ex-boyfriend now. They want no part of me.”
“What about other family? Other friends? A cousin? There has to be an aunt or an uncle or grandparent who can help.”
“You would think there would be. But you’re the only one who’s listened to me about it without yelling and judging me.”
Connie sighed. “Do you want to have the baby?”
“Yes. But I want the baby to have a better life than me. I don’t want to worry about where the next meal comes from or whether I can afford to go to the doctor’s when my baby has a high fever. And we’re not even talking about paying for childcare or a babysitter if I’m able to find full-time work.”
Connie stood up. “I need some more chocolate.”
“Bring it on,” said Virginia.
Chapter 14
Hewitt sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the pictures lining the dresser. As his eyes scanned them one by one, his daughter’s voice rose inside his head and soaked his body with sadness. He reached for the picture, pushing his wedding ring away. He watched it spin and fall to the floor.
He closed his eyes, remembering a summer day.
I’ll push you, Hailey. Let’s see how high you can go. Up you go. Wow, how high you are. Look at you, my little girl. You are reac h ing for the stars, baby. Then it’ll be the moon. Then another ga l axy. He could hear Hailey laugh. It softened the edge in his heart.
“Look at me, Daddy. Look at me. I’m flying like a bird in the sky.”
“I can see that. You’re an eagle gliding across the Grand Canyon.”
Hailey smiled from ear to ear.
He took a deep breath and stood. He picked up another picture of Hailey, her face covered in chocolate. Hewitt pressed the picture against his chest. “I am doing this for you. I will not fail.”
He reached down and removed his socks. Straightening up, he lifted his arms pretending to shoot a foul shot. “Bingo,” he whispered as he tossed it into a laundry basket at the far end of the room. “I’ve still got it,” he said.
Hewitt walked past a picture of them in Disney World. “I will break that pastor, no matter how long it takes, until he tells me the truth. I don’t care if God sends me to hell.”
He turned to the walls behind him. There were four detailed pictures of the Lady by the Bay Church interior with doors, windows and offices marked. Profile pictures of Michael and Elizabeth Stewart were hung beside it. Below Michael’s face, Hewitt had written several pointed thoughts about his personality. Under Elizabeth’s photo several friend’s names and phone numbers were listed.
He struggled to think clearly, shaking his head several times as if that might remove the sorrow and anger and release him from his emotional stranglehold. I’ve donated my marriage to this job , but I don’t care.
Hewitt stayed silent, staring at his wedding day photo. No. I’ve dedicated my life to helping families find their sons and daug h ters. You were wrong, Veronica. Dead wrong.
He shook his head. I know I can’t replace her, but every time I see a young girl, I see Hailey’s face. Every teenager I see, I see what she would have been. She should have had birthday parties with her friends. She should have been able to graduate from high school and go to college. I should have been able to walk her down the aisle at her wedding. We were robbed. She was robbed.
Hewitt stared at himself in the mirror above the dresser. What good am I if I couldn’t protect my own child?
Chapter 15
First-century Jerusalem
Go now , Michael implored himself. He raced out of the cave, his pouch dangling on his side as he bounced uphill and down. He passed a field filled with sheep and scattered the last group while heading toward a cluster of similar-looking homes. He tightened the pouch around his waist and fingered a sharpened
“Can’t you get in touch with your boyfriend’s family?”
“He’s an ex-boyfriend now. They want no part of me.”
“What about other family? Other friends? A cousin? There has to be an aunt or an uncle or grandparent who can help.”
“You would think there would be. But you’re the only one who’s listened to me about it without yelling and judging me.”
Connie sighed. “Do you want to have the baby?”
“Yes. But I want the baby to have a better life than me. I don’t want to worry about where the next meal comes from or whether I can afford to go to the doctor’s when my baby has a high fever. And we’re not even talking about paying for childcare or a babysitter if I’m able to find full-time work.”
Connie stood up. “I need some more chocolate.”
“Bring it on,” said Virginia.
Chapter 14
Hewitt sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the pictures lining the dresser. As his eyes scanned them one by one, his daughter’s voice rose inside his head and soaked his body with sadness. He reached for the picture, pushing his wedding ring away. He watched it spin and fall to the floor.
He closed his eyes, remembering a summer day.
I’ll push you, Hailey. Let’s see how high you can go. Up you go. Wow, how high you are. Look at you, my little girl. You are reac h ing for the stars, baby. Then it’ll be the moon. Then another ga l axy. He could hear Hailey laugh. It softened the edge in his heart.
“Look at me, Daddy. Look at me. I’m flying like a bird in the sky.”
“I can see that. You’re an eagle gliding across the Grand Canyon.”
Hailey smiled from ear to ear.
He took a deep breath and stood. He picked up another picture of Hailey, her face covered in chocolate. Hewitt pressed the picture against his chest. “I am doing this for you. I will not fail.”
He reached down and removed his socks. Straightening up, he lifted his arms pretending to shoot a foul shot. “Bingo,” he whispered as he tossed it into a laundry basket at the far end of the room. “I’ve still got it,” he said.
Hewitt walked past a picture of them in Disney World. “I will break that pastor, no matter how long it takes, until he tells me the truth. I don’t care if God sends me to hell.”
He turned to the walls behind him. There were four detailed pictures of the Lady by the Bay Church interior with doors, windows and offices marked. Profile pictures of Michael and Elizabeth Stewart were hung beside it. Below Michael’s face, Hewitt had written several pointed thoughts about his personality. Under Elizabeth’s photo several friend’s names and phone numbers were listed.
He struggled to think clearly, shaking his head several times as if that might remove the sorrow and anger and release him from his emotional stranglehold. I’ve donated my marriage to this job , but I don’t care.
Hewitt stayed silent, staring at his wedding day photo. No. I’ve dedicated my life to helping families find their sons and daug h ters. You were wrong, Veronica. Dead wrong.
He shook his head. I know I can’t replace her, but every time I see a young girl, I see Hailey’s face. Every teenager I see, I see what she would have been. She should have had birthday parties with her friends. She should have been able to graduate from high school and go to college. I should have been able to walk her down the aisle at her wedding. We were robbed. She was robbed.
Hewitt stared at himself in the mirror above the dresser. What good am I if I couldn’t protect my own child?
Chapter 15
First-century Jerusalem
Go now , Michael implored himself. He raced out of the cave, his pouch dangling on his side as he bounced uphill and down. He passed a field filled with sheep and scattered the last group while heading toward a cluster of similar-looking homes. He tightened the pouch around his waist and fingered a sharpened
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