“We’re leaving.” J.B. issued the decree and motioned to his wife.

Mona held her head down as she passed Cathy and followed J.B. to the front door. With her mouth puckered tightly, Elaine frowned and shook her head, her actions silently telling Cathy of her displeasure. Seth paused in front of Cathy, but didn’t say anything.

She caressed his cheek. “I’ll be at church today.”

He leaned over and whispered, “I’ll go talk to Mr. Floyd whenever you say.” Then he hurried out the front door and caught up with his grandparents on the porch.

Bruce Kelley helped his wife dress. She had chosen a blue linen suit. He watched her while she struggled to hook her bra and then finally offered to help.

“Silly me, I’m all thumbs this morning.” When she laughed, she sounded like herself, the Sandie he had known and loved most of his adult life.

If he could suffer this disease for her, he would; but then if it were he and not she that had been afflicted, she would be the one condemned to watch the person she loved die by slow, pathetic degrees. They were both victims.

In the past, he had never understood how someone could choose to end their spouse’s life when that lifelong partner was suffering unbearably. He’d been such a pompous fool. Arrogant. So smug in his safe, happy life. He had judged others so harshly, never once considering the love and sacrifice made by those poor spouses who could no longer bear to see their loved one suffer.

If not for his deep faith in God, in the Savior’s benevolence, in a great plan for all mankind, Bruce wasn’t sure he would have the strength to see this thing through to the end. Sandie still had good days, and even on the bad days she still had good hours. The worst was yet to come. But he was not in this hell on earth alone, as many were. He and Sandie had three fine children, all willing to do whatever was necessary to help him. But the last thing his sweet Sandie would ever want was to be a burden on anyone, least of all her children.

“I should wear my pearls with this outfit,” Sandie said as she looked at herself in the vanity mirror. “But I can’t seem to remember where my pearls are. Don’t I have a jewelry chest?”

Bruce came up behind her and placed his hands lovingly on her shoulders. She glanced up at him from where she sat on the vanity stool and smiled at him.

Dear Lord, how he loved her smile.

There would come a day in the near future when she would no longer smile when she saw him, a time when she would not know who he was. Would he be able to bear it?

“Your jewelry box is in the closet,” he reminded her. “You stay put, and I’ll get your pearls.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Just as he walked away and headed toward the walk-in closet, she called to him, “Bruce, are the children ready for church? I can’t remember if I packed everything in the diaper bag that little Kevin will need. He was so fretful last night. I’m afraid he’s cutting a new tooth.”

Bruce stopped dead still. His heartbeat accelerated. He closed his eyes and prayed for strength and courage. And the ability to see Sandie through to the end, no matter how long and difficult the path might be. She had no idea that her mind had wandered back more than thirty years to when their now-adult son had been an infant. This was not the first time it had happened, and heaven help them both, it would not be the last.

Faye Long stared at her reflection in the cheval mirror. She looked like an old woman, far older than her fifty-eight years. Guilt and regret weighed heavily on her shoulders. And fear.

Thirty-nine years ago, when she had married Charles Long, she had been a beautiful, desirable young woman. She could have had her pick from dozens of men, but she had chosen the man she believed worshipped the ground she walked on, the man who would be a good husband and father to their future children. Charles had been a handsome, dashing, charismatic young minister, and she had fallen under his hypnotic spell, never questioning what lay beneath the alluring façade he presented to the world.

She had made a horrible mistake by marrying him, and she had paid dearly for her stupidity. And she was still paying, as was her daughter and her granddaughters.

If only she could go back and redo her life, go back to the first time she met her future husband. She would run as far and as fast from Charles Long as she possibly could.

When Ruth Ann and John Earl had returned home a little after six o’clock this morning, with both Charity and Felicity in tow, she had known something was wrong. When she had gone to the kitchen earlier this morning at five-thirty, she had found Ruth Ann’s note.

John Earl and I have gone to pick up the girls. There’s been a slight problem. I’ll call you if we aren’t home in a few hours.-Ruthie

Ruthie. Her only child.

The spawn of the devil.

God, how she hated to think of her daughter in such a way. Ruth Ann could no more help who her father was than she could help the horrible things he had done to her. The things he had done to both of them.

She often wondered what would have happened to the two of them that night after fire had consumed their home and killed her husband if it had not been for John Earl. At the time, he and Ruth Ann had been dating for nearly a year, and she’d known how much he loved her daughter. He was such a good man, and she thanked the Lord every day that both of her granddaughters were growing up in a home filled with love and goodness.

But a shadow of evil hovered over all of them. Charles Long’s evil. Even now, after all these years, Ruth Ann still had nightmares. And the emotional scars left by her father’s cruelty had created an emptiness inside Ruth Ann that affected her relationship with both of her daughters.

No doubt Felicity and Charity’s unfortunate escapade would be the talk of the town by the time church services began today. Poor John Earl. What an embarrassment for him.

But they would all hold their heads high this morning when they arrived at church. Let the busybodies talk. No one except she, Ruth Ann and John Earl knew that her granddaughters were predisposed to wickedness, that they had inherited a weakness for evil from Charles Long.

As soon as her mother and in-laws took Seth away, Cathy knew what she had to do today. She could waste her time crying and bemoaning the fact that J.B. and Mona had custody of her son. Or she could get ready, go to church and be there for the most humiliating moment of Seth’s young life.

She showered, washed and dried her hair, chose one of two new outfits she had recently purchased on a shopping trip with Lorie and unpacked her makeup case. Only moments after she added the last touches-blush to her cheeks and a peach gloss to her lips-the doorbell rang.

Maybe it was Lorie, but she doubted it. She had phoned her best friend and filled her in on what had happened, everything she knew about Seth’s misadventures and her confrontation with J.B. Lorie had offered to go to church with her this morning, but she’d assured her that it wasn’t necessary.

“I know how much you’d hate it,” Cathy had said. “You haven’t been inside a church for worship services since you moved back to Dunmore.”

“I’d do it for you.”

“I’ll be okay, and so will Seth, so don’t worry too much. I have a feeling that God’s on my side.”

When she reached the front door, Cathy peeked through the viewfinder and gasped when she saw Jackson Perdue standing on her porch.

She opened the door. “Well, hello. What are you doing here?” She surveyed him from his neatly combed hair to his polished dress shoes. He wore khaki slacks, a white shirt without a tie and a blue blazer.

“I thought I’d go to church with you today,” he said.