TESSA — PRESENT DAY

“Will isn’t here right now.” My hands tremble, and I grip the door to steady them, hoping he won’t notice. Will’s words ring in my ears, the warning about looking at Pastor Charles in a way that might clue him in to the fact that I know his secret. If he knows, he could kill me.

It’s a terrifying realization, considering this is the man I spent most of my life convinced could read my mind in the pew from where he stood at the pulpit.

Pastor Charles steps forward, like he’s preparing to come inside, but I stand my ground, so he’s suddenly right in my face, nearly touching me. He pushes his small, wire-rimmed glasses back on top of his head.I used to think he was so handsome, but he’s my dad.The dad that I’ve dreamed of knowing, grieved my entire life, was always right here. I can kind of see it now in Will’s blond hair and the wrinkle in the space between his eyes. I can’t help mentally cataloging all of my friends and classmates now, looking for the similarities.

This is so messed up.

I force the thoughts away.

“Would you mind if I waited for him? Mrs. Krueger said she saw him coming into town this morning. A day earlier thanusual, in fact. You must be relieved to get some extra time with him.” He makes no effort to step back, just keeps staring at me, his green eyes drilling into mine.

My phone is in my back pocket. If I could get to it without him seeing, I could call 911, but it’s too big a risk. My heart pounds in my ears as I stare him down. “He went to visit Mom at Oak Meadows. You could probably find him there.” I hate that I’m sending him anywhere near them, but if I can get him out of here, I will call Will and warn him.

Pastor Charles clears his throat and takes a half step back finally. “Is everything okay, Tessa?”

My heart is a spinning top that has fallen over. Every breath is shaky. “Of course.” Then I add, “Um, I just, I’m not feeling well. I really shouldn’t have company.”

“Nonsense,” he says. “The Lord only gives us what’s meant for us, sickness included. You shouldn’t be alone if you’re ill. Will should know better.” His hand goes to my forehead, his smooth palm brushing my skin, and I feel sick.My father should’ve done this. If you were any father to me, you would’ve done this.The heavy scent of his cologne fills my nostrils as he clicks his tongue and lowers his hand. “You don’t feel warm. Have you been running a fever?”

“I took medicine earlier. Dr. Jacobs said it’s a virus.”

He looks over my head. “I should stay until Will is back.”

“That’s okay. I’d really rather?—”

“Your mother wouldn’t want you to be alone.” He pushes the door open abruptly, moving past me, and his mention of my mother sends me into a spiral.

With his back to me, I pull out my phone, hand shaking.

“It’s a tragedy what happened to Britney, you know,” Pastor Charles says. When I look up, he’s staring at me, and the look in his eyes chills me to my bones. “I know the two of you were very close.”

I nod, my voice completely absent from my throat. I fight to find it. “It’s been really hard on everyone.”

“When anyone in our community suffers, we all do.” His voice carries the same weight it does every Sunday morning. I should be able to trust him. I hate this universe we’ve slipped into. Where the good people are suddenly bad, and the ones you thought you could trust, you suddenly can’t. Perhaps if I can buy time, talk to him about Britney, Will and Garrett will arrive home.

That’s the only way out of this. I have to be smart.

“I, um, I was wondering if you know anything about Britney’s death.” His eyes widen, and I quickly add, “I mean, any more than what they’ve said in the paper. I’m struggling with the idea that she was in such a dark place, you know? I just thought…maybe she would have told you if she was struggling with something. Maybe the rest of us didn’t see it.”

He nods, pulling the glasses the rest of the way off of his head and tucking them into his shirt pocket. “She did confide in me that she and her husband were struggling with the news that she was expecting again.”

That news shocks me to my core. “She was pregnant?” I wonder if Kristy knows this. Why wouldn’t she have mentioned it?

“She was. And her husband wasn’t happy.”

I swallow, because I already know her husband isn’t able to have kids anymore. She told me when he had his vasectomy right after their second daughter was born. I guess he might’ve had it reversed later, though that seems unlikely, especially if he was unhappy about the pregnancy. Britney always said she wanted two girls, and that was exactly what she got.

But if the baby’s not Justin’s, what does that mean? For all I know, he could be lying, but why?

If they do a paternity test on the baby, there’s no doubt they’ll find out the baby wasn’t his. But I suspect Pastor Charles doesn’t know that Justin had a vasectomy. I remember what Kristy said about the police suspecting Britney had been having an affair.

“I can’t believe he was mad.” I pretend to think out loud. “Why didn’t she tell me about the baby?”

He folds his hands, massaging his thumbs over the skin of his knuckles. “We can’t begin to judge our brothers and sisters on their journeys. The Bible says a good man’s heart pumps God’s word like blood through his veins, Miss Becker. We’re all tempted in life. We all fail our Father. But what’s in our veins matters—both the sin and God’s word. I believe Britney Davis had the Lord in her heart. She won’t be answering for any more sins than you or I will. All we can do is pray for ’em. Right now, what Britney’s family needs more than anything is for us to pray for ’em real hard.”

Even as he says the thoughtful, gentle words, there’s something almost bitter in his tone. Something borderline vindictive. Am I imagining it?