Page 302 of Redeemed

When Ruth looks up, her gaze locks on mine. A range of emotions play across her face. Recognition first, then relief, and then pity. She moves toward me, but Samuel puts a firm hand on her shoulder. Ruth looks up at him in protest, be he shakes his head.

Isaiah guides me through the lobby and into the sanctuary. When I look back, Ruth is watching me with helpless longing in her eyes. I give her a tiny, discreet wave, and she smiles back.

“Heaven.” Isaiah tugs me forward. “Come on.”

My mom is standing in the aisle between pews talking to a few other women. When she spots me, she politely excuses herself and makes her way over to us. She’s wearing a long dress with blue flowers on it. I recognize it from my childhood. It’s more worn now, but it still brings out the blue in her eyes.

“Heaven.” She wraps me up in her arms. “Oh, my girl, I’ve missed you.”

I squeeze her tight. “I missed you, too, Mom. How are you?”

“All right.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “The Lord is good.”

It takes all my willpower to not physically recoil at that phrase. Up close, I can see the gray strands in my mother’s long brown hair. She seems tired.Reallytired. I don’t think that’s the way she’d look if her Lord was actually good.

“I’m glad you’re home.” Mom takes my hand. “I’ve already requested you be placed back in the kitchens with me. There’s so much missed time we have to make up for.”

“That sounds nice,” I lie.

Working in the kitchen is one of the most miserable jobs at Cornerstone. There’s always something going on—community-wide canning events, meals after church or for special occasions, et cetera. The kitchen is hot, you never get a break, and the women are always singing or reciting Bible verses to each other.

“We’ll talk about that later,” Isaiah says. “Right now, we—”

“Heaven!” a girl cries. It takes a moment for me to realize it’s one of my little sisters. She’s so much taller now than she was when I left.

“Esther!” I step toward her, my heart soaring, but Mom stops me.

“Heaven, no.”

I stare at her in confusion. “I just want to hug her.”

With glassy eyes, my mother shakes her head. “Your father… he decided it’s best for you to stay away from your siblings. It’s only a temporary measure, I promise. We just need to make sure that you won’t be a bad influence.”

“A bad—” I lose my breath, and my knees threaten to go weak. “Mom, they’re mysiblings.”

“And you abandoned them for a life of sin,” Isaiah says coldly. His arm hooks around mine. “Now, come on. We need to sit down.”

He drags me past Esther, who looks equal parts hurt and confused. For some reason, Isaiah has us sit in the very front row. The stage is right in front of us, a raised platform with a large wooden pulpit in the center. Behind it is a wall of stained glass windows flanking a cross.

Everything is as I remember it, just smaller.

And darker.

“Ven.”

My heart skips a beat at that name. Only one person uses it for me, and it’s because he couldn’t pronounce my full name when he was little.

I whirl around and immediately fling myself into my brother’s arms. “Jeremiah!”

He’s taller than I am now, and much stronger than I remember. Still, my chest aches when I pull away and look up at him. He’s nineteen—old enough that Mom and Dad can’t tell him what to do—but he still looks so young.

“You remember Naomi?” he asks, nodding to the blonde girl next to him.

“Of course I do.” I pull her into a hug. “I’ve thought about you a lot, sweet girl.”

“So have I.” She gives me a watery smile and holds up her left hand. “We’re sisters now.”

My stomach cramps. Jeremiah was one of the sweetest boys at Cornerstone, and I hope that hasn’t changed. But regardless of how well he treats Naomi, both of them are only nineteen.

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