No, they were more like a flock without their shepherd.
I mustered up my strength and let go of April. I turned and faced my neighbors. I could see the same question forming on all their lips. “Thank you for your show of support,” I said in my best impersonation of Dad’s authoritative-yet-reassuring voice. “I am truly moved by your love for my father. His condition is still critical, but he has improved some in the last hour. I will make sure someone spreads the word whenever I hear something more.”
I was immediately bombarded by a string of questions about how it happened, and I told them the same lie I’d told the police who had questioned me in the ER: that Dad had been scouting out a new location for a rescue shelter in the city, but I had no idea what had caused the explosion.
More questions followed, and then at least three of my neighbors offered to bring over dinner.
“Thank you for your offers,” I said. “However, someone else in the parish needs your help more than I do. I was at the hospital just now when Pete Bradshaw unfortunately passed away.”
April gasped next to me, along with several others in the crowd.
“I am sure his mother could use your love and goodwill more than I can at this moment. Please, put your energy to use for her.” I knew that was what my father would want them to do. Pete had his problems, but his mother didn’t deserve to lose her only son.
I thanked everyone again and then turned to go inside. April followed me up the rest of the porch steps. We ducked into the house, and as I closed the door behind us, I watched a few of my neighbors slowly head down our street toward Rose Drive, where Ann Bradshaw lived.
“You almost sounded like a pastor,” April said. “Maybe you have a future in public leadership.”
“I doubt that,” I mumbled.
“I do not,” came Gabriel’s voice from the kitchen. I peered down the hallway and saw him rise from his seat at the table. “And that future may be sooner than you think.” He set what looked like a sketchbook on the table and looked at me. “We need to talk, Grace.”
FIVE MINUTES LATER
April made her excuses to leave, as if by a prearranged cue from Gabriel. I knew exactly where she was headed.
“Is someone with Jude now?” I asked.
“I sent Ryan and Zach.”
“Does he know?”
“He knows there was some sort of accident, but I told the others not to say anything yet.”
I sighed with relief, but then I knew what needed to be done next. “You should tell him. But keep Ryan and Zach there with you, in case.… I don’t know how he’ll react.”
I knew I should be the one to break the news to my brother, but I just couldn’t do it. What if he didn’t react at all? What if he didn’t care? I just couldn’t bear to see that happen.
And I have something more important to do now, I thought as I patted the moonstone in my pocket, just to reassure myself that it was still there.
As April went out the front door, Gabriel beckoned me to the table. The sketchbook I didn’t recognize sat in front of him, and he clenched a charcoal pencil in a white-knuckled grasp. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t have time to talk—that I needed to focus all my energy on figuring out how to use the moonstone to bring Daniel back now that I had it—but the grave look in Gabriel’s eyes, and the way April had bugged out of here, told me that whatever he had to say was serious. And honestly, I still didn’t know if I was ready to trust anyone else with the truth that I had the moonstone.