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The chains binding her wrists broke off.

A man met her at the bus stop, claiming that God told him to be there with a bus ticket to South Carolina.

That bus ticket brought her to Stormwatch Landing.

Of all the businesses, she ended up behind mine. Which, when I really think about it, is pretty miraculous since the entrance to my alleyway is not an easy one to find.

Taking all of that into account, it is hard not to believe that there is Someone up there orchestrating all of it.

Maybe it is God.

Maybe He did bring her here for a reason, even if I can’t quite understand why.

“How about I read it to you? It’s been a while since I read through Daniel.” She crosses over and takes a seat beside me, so I slide the Bible toward her. But instead of reading, she bows her head and closes her eyes. “Lord, thank You for this day. Thank You for waking us and for keeping us safe last night.” Her bottom lip trembles. “Please guide us through Your word and let us see You in it. Please open our hearts and grant us wisdom to understand. In the mighty name of Jesus, I pray. Amen.”

“Amen.” The word just kind of slips out. At first, embarrassment has me looking away from Sadie, but when she doesn’t say anything and just starts reading, I turn back, hearing every word for the first time.

SADIE

Maverick is behind the bar, washing glasses, where he’s been ever since we finished our coffee. He’s been quiet since I stopped reading the Bible to him, and I hope it’s because he’s processing what I said.

Lord, please soften His heart to Your word. Please let him come to know You. Let that be the good that comes out of this, Lord. In the mighty name of Jesus, I pray. Amen.

It’s the same prayer I’ve said at least three times already, but I can’t help myself. I couldn’t imagine going through life without my faith. Even more so over these past few months. Losing my parents took a lot out of me, but I knew that they were with Jesus.

Being in that cellar was harder.

Understanding why it happened has been even more difficult.

But I still know that God will take my tragedy and turn it into something beautiful. Because that’s what He does.

I finish sweeping up the floor, dump the dustpan into the trash, and tuck everything away before heading toward the dance floor to pick up a discarded sweater and put it in Maverick’s lost and found box behind the bar.

As I turn back, my foot catches on the edge of the dance floor, and I trip—hitting the ground hard. Subtle pain shoots up through my knees and palms where they collided with the floor.

“Sadie!”

Maverick comes rushing over to me, but the second he reaches my side and kneels down to help me up, laughter bubbles up in my chest.

I just fell onto the floor of his bar.

Again.

I can climb out of a broken basement window, run from a monster, and make it over a hundred miles away from where I was without further injury. However, a dance floor manages to take me to the ground.

As the uncontrollable laughter continues to take hold of me, I roll over onto my back and just lie there. At least I already swept and mopped over here.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he reaches for me.

“I’m fine,” I manage between bouts of laughter. “Just tripped.” My side hurts, but it’s just too ridiculous not to laugh. Of course this would happen. Because why not?

Relief softens his expression, and he smiles, then drops down onto the floor beside me, wrapping his arms around his slightly bent knees. “You are an enigma that I just can’t wrap my mind around,” he says as he looks over and down at where I’m sprawled out on the floor.

“What do you mean?” I ask, finally managing to get the laughter under control. I sit up now, still feeling the ache in my stomach from losing it.

“Anyone else would have gone through what you did and let it harden them to the world. Yet you manage to have this—” He stops a moment. “This light that surrounds you. You trip and laugh about it. You’re kidnapped, beaten, and threatened with sexual assault, yet instead of outwardly wishing it didn’t happen, you pray that, through your pain, something good will come.”

“There are people out there who have been through far worse.”