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“Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven,” she murmurs. Isaac’s breath is harsh as he watches us.
“Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,” I breathe, and her lips twitch.
“I said—”
“Hate not those who reject you, who insult you, who abuse and slander you. Hate not the atheists, the teachers of evil, the materialists—and I mean not only the good ones—for there are many good ones among them, especially in our day—hate not even the wicked ones.” Her words stop me dead, and I stare at her.
“How did you remember that?” I breathe.
Her lips barely tip up in a sad smile. “How could I forget?”
The double doors of the church bang open and a small yelp leaves me as I whirl toward the intrusion. Willa storms in like Hellhounds are on her heels, her angry gaze sweeping over the church, stopping when she spots Isaac on the stage.
His head tilts to the side as he watches her, a Bible clutched in his hand. “Preacher Isaac, I need to—” She comes to an abrupt stop when she sees me. “You.”
“Ms. Willa,” I breathe, stumbling back. I glance at Isaac, finding him stepping off the stage. “What’s—”
“What the hell were you thinking?” she snarls. The Bibles I’d been replacing on the pews slip from my fingertips, my eyes widening. “She was under your care, and you let her get drunk!”
“Ms. Willa,” I say again, my voice shaking. “I—”
“Do you know how much money I lost?” She advances on me, her face turning red with her anger.
“Willa,” Isaac says cautiously, stepping closer.
“I had to take time off work!” she shouts. “And do you know what happens when I don’t work?” Another step toward me. My heart is in my throat as I look toward Isaac, silently praying for help. “I don’t get paid!”
“I—I’m sorry,” I stammer, but she’s not listening.
“How could you be so irresponsible?” She’s in front of me now, her finger waving in my face.
“Now, Willa.” Isaac tries to get her attention, but she’s focused solely on me. “Let’s go to my office—”
“I trusted her with you,” she continues. “You’re nothing but an irresponsible little bit—”
“Willa!” Isaac shouts, loud enough to startle her. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, my body trembling from fear and the realization that something must’ve happened to Clover. “Do not speak to my stepdaughter like that.” My eyes widen at his tone, my vision blurring further. “You’ll explain yourself calmly, or you’ll leave. But you won’t come into my church and insult my girl, understand?”
My mouth falls open as Willa sputters, turning a darker shade of red. But I can’t make myself care about her or what she has to say. Not when his words are ringing through me.
My girl.
Pride nearly sends me to my knees, then heat, searing white-hot heat shoots through my body. I’m his girl. It’s the first time he’s claimed me, at least publicly.
“My child—my sixteen-year-old child—was at a party at your house, Preacher.” She spits his title like a slur. “She got drunk enough to need her stomach pumped. And when I got to the hospital, she was there with two men—one of which was your son.”
Your son.
I gasp as the words settle, the stark realization that Roman knew all this time and said nothing hitting me in the chest.
Roman was there.
Roman knew.
Isaac’s throat bobs as he swallows, his eyes never leaving hers. “Then it sounds like your problem is with Roman, not Eve.”
“Clover was under Eve’s care,” Willa snaps, looking back at me accusingly.
“I swear, I didn’t know she was drinking,” I rush out, raising my hands innocently.
