“Was that too cheesy?” Mateo asks over the thunderous engine. Mateo drives them through the rough terrain of the land, climbing over rocks, and crushing branches, the trees flying by in blur as the wind rushes through the open ATV. Allie smiles as she remembers the line that Mateo delivered right before they left and the lasting effects that it posed.

“Now, Rosalie, you need to forgive him and move on. He said he was sorry.” Allie could always tell how her mother felt about a situation by which name she was called. If her mother called her “darling” she was pleased, aloof, and light. This, Rosalie knew, was likely soon after she took her Prozac. However, if her mother was particularly miffed or didn’t like Allie’s choices, she called her by her given name, apparently this was one of those conversations, if it involves Hayes and Allie, and Allie isn’t compliant, she’s irritated, Allie rolls her eyes, “Who did he apologize to… because… it wasn’t me?” she questions her mom. Allie didn’t often question her parents; it definitely wasn’t a thing when she was growing up. Questions were equivalent to disrespect in her father’s eyes.

           A week had passed since Mateo, Dominic, and his brothers helped install the security system around Allie’s property. Mateo had bought two monitors so that Allie could see all the footage from the camera as well as up at the house in case she needed help. Luckily, there were no more signs of Hayes anywhere. No more unexpected drop-ins, not even a text or a phone call. Allie was necessarily surprised, but it did irritate her some that he had claimed that he wanted “his family back” but wasn’t willing to see his son or reach out to see how he was doing. She shook it off the best that she could, trying to focus on giving Asher what he needed to the best of her ability.

Lord, why can’t I sleep? I’ve been tossing and turning, and I can’t find rest, Allie complains. She feels tired but can’t seem to find rest. Instead of tossing and turning, potentially waking up Millie with the ruckus, she sneaks out and heads downstairs. Since fully immersing herself in her journey with Christ, she has come to find that nights like these are nights where Jesus wants to talk to her. Luckily for her, there is always a Bible sitting within arm’s reach. She finds her way to the living room where, as she suspected, there was a study bible sitting on the coffee table.

The day was bright and crisp, not unusual for a spring day in Oklahoma, especially as it gets closer to the meat of the summer. Mateo had missed summers here, even the unpredictable weather, as it was rather predictable in Washington. Either it was rainy, or it wasn’t. He liked that he hadn’t seen a raindrop in a few days, welcoming the heat from the sun. Maverick parked the car in one of the spots in front of the gym and he, Mateo, and Malachi all shuffled out. Maverick pointed to a couple of other cars in the parking lot, “Looks like Coach and Rob are already here.” Mateo and Malachi give a silent nod as they hear another car approach.

           Mateo had only flown a few times in his life so it would be normal for him to experience some level of anxiety, right? Even though his past flights went off without a hitch, there was that possibility that he would experience a rough amount of turbulence, or worse that his flight may crash. It was possible that his anxiety had nothing to do with the crash and everything to do with the face that he was securely buckled in his seat, the flight attendants announcing that his flight was on-time and the skies were clear for takeoff, and his flight wasn’t delayed or cancelled like he had hoped. His anxiety could be from the universe not assuring him that this trip was a mistake and allowing him to go back to his apartment.

              Rosalie Faye Callahan of the prominent Callahan family within the Tulsa area didn’t like being reminded of her lineage, but anytime she was on a phone call with her mother, it was unavoidable, like when she used her full name instead of “Allie”. Rita Callahan was a force to be reckoned with; married to Stephen Callahan, she was on the board of several non-profit charities, she was on the event planning committee with their country club, and anything else that could take her mind away from her deteriorating marriage. It’s not that she despised her parents or even hated them, she pitied them. They live a life of slavery, in bondage, conforming to societal rules set in place instead of the freedom that Jesus offers them through His sacrifice.

It’s been five years since Megan Alexander took her last breath.