Page 57 of Tracking Safety

Jenna shifted, feeling as if there was more to say. “I owe all of you an apology. I know what my leaving did to this family. I know it’s not something I can fix with an explanation.”

Her voice cracked, and she paused to compose herself.

She sucked in several deep breaths before continuing. “I’m not asking you to forgive me tonight. I just needed you to know how very sorry I am. For everything.”

More silence stretched.

Then Ruby set down her mug. She crossed the room, sat beside Jenna on the couch, and gently touched Jenna’s arm.

Ruby met her gaze and gave her a small nod. “We’re so glad you’re back with us now.”

Jenna’s throat tightened with emotion.

She hadn’t expected that kind of grace—not even close.

“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through,” Naomi said. “I probably would have made the same decision if I’d been in your shoes. I’m sure it was devastating.”

“I have to admit that I haven’t always thought the best thoughts about why you left,” Caleb added. “And now I’m sorry for that. But even knowing the truth, it’s going to take some time to adjust my thinking.”

“That’s understandable.” The words sounded like croaks as Jenna spoke them.

Their response wasn’t absolution or acceptance. Those things would take time and conversation. But this was a room of people who were choosing, for tonight, to set the harder things aside.

She exhaled slowly. It was more than she could ask for.

Just as relief filled her, the room went dark, except for the fireplace.

Caleb and Luke immediately shot to their feet.

Luke rushed toward the window and pulled the curtain back.

“Could be the breaker,” Caleb said. “It’s still a little stormy out there.”

“Could be.” Luke didn’t sound like he believed the words.

Jenna looked at the dark window and felt the brief warmth of the last twenty minutes disappear.

They weren’t safe yet, were they?

They might not be safe for a long time.

Because she didn’t believe the power going out was a coincidence. Someone had done this. She felt sure of it.

The question was: Was the person responsible for cutting the power lurking outside? Did this person have more on his agenda than scaring them? Did he also want to harm them?

She could hardly stand the thought.

Luke let the curtain fall and turned to the room. “Let me check the panel first.”

He crossed to the utility closet, opened the breaker box, and ran the flashlight down the rows of switches.

Not one of them had tripped.

He stood looking at it a moment. A tripped breaker he could explain—a surge, an overload, the storm doing what storms did. But every switch in the panel sat exactly where it belonged, and the house was still dark.

That was worse, not better.

Max Kincaid, their resident handyman, stepped out from his room.