Page 116 of To Believe In You
“People change and get morals without God.”
“A commitment to self-improvement also points to a soul created by God, a soul desperate to attain the life it was made for.”
Tim flipped on his blinker, as if by delivering Matt to his car, he could escape this conversation.
Lina’s house waited, a pale blur at the end of the drive. Though he’d known better, he hadn’t entirely convinced himself he wouldn’t see her here. Maybe she’d stopped by to pack a bag or something? But no lights glinted in the windows. So much the better. Tim deserved his focus.
“It’s kind of crazy to think you’ve watched all four of us—Gannon, John, Philip, and me—but no matter how many times a redemption story plays out right in front of you, you keep denying the evidence that it’s true. God is real, and He wants a relationship with you.”
Tim braked, bringing the vehicle to an abrupt stop inches from Matt’s bumper. “If God is real, I’ve been nothing but trouble for Him.”
“Same. But He hasn’t given up on either of us.”
Tim hit the button to unlock the doors and motioned Matt out.
Matt didn’t move. “You saw the stars today, and I’m betting it wasn’t the first time.”
Tim rubbed his eyes, then shifted into reverse. The movement lacked commitment.
“What if next time’s the last time?” Matt asked. “I know you’ve got some kind of plans to make yourself feel better about Nadia and who knows what else, but none of it will make you innocent before a holy God. Set your pride aside. Let Him make things right for you.”
“Let Him? Like it’s some kind of gift?”
“Thebestkind. He created you for a purpose, Tim. Is it so unbelievable He’d want you to live it out? He’s your father. Would you want Issy wasting her life?”
“No.”
No? No flippant arguments or orders to get out of the car?
Matt’s pulse quickened. “You’ve been looking out for me. Let me return the favor. Let’s pray together. I’ll introduce you to Jesus.”
Tim pressed his lips together, still for a moment before his chin lifted. And lowered. And again.
He was nodding. Agreeing. Finally, after all these years, ready.
* * *
Lina fell asleep aroundtwo a.m. only to wake moments later when her head hit the concrete. The flashback felt so real, her stomach hardened against the imaginary arm that banded around her middle.
She sat up in bed, panting, eyes on a desperate hunt for light.
She found the clock on the bedside stand, the numbers blue instead of the white of her own bedroom clock. With a breath that was supposed to be calming, she shifted her focus toward the windows. A whisper of moonlight fell on the sill.
She rubbed her hand over the ache in her gut.
After all she had gone through with Shane in those minutes between discovering him in her bedroom and finding herself free in the garage, why hadn’t she run?
When Matt had asked earlier, she’d cited her conviction that Shane wouldn’t hurt her. Yet moments before she’d discovered Shane, she’d been drowning in distrust. She hadn’t trusted Shane, her dad, or even her own judgment. And then, a few minutes later, she’d risked her life on it?
Matt was right. She’d been stupid to stay.
She was going to get herself killed one of these days.
Or blunder into some other foolish situation that shattered her heart again, lost more family heirlooms, or botched up her grandparents’ legacy even more thoroughly than she had already.
Her lungs seemed to shrink, and her breath raced to provide enough air. She flipped on the bedside light and slid Grandpa’s stamp book from the nightstand, where she had indeed overlooked it when she’d packed up and left the Vaughns’ house earlier. What a relief it had been to see it waiting for her, safe and sound, when she had returned.
She paged through it, running her fingers over the square edges of the acrylic holders that protected the valuables. She’d have to reach out to her insurance company to begin the process of having the collection appraised and, if Shane had been correct about its value, insured.
