Now he’d lost her forever.
She hadn’t been in touch once since leaving, and how could he blame her? He closed her journal and set it back on her dresser.
Andy needed the bathroom again. He rushed out of Cami’s room and barely made it to the toilet. He had nothing left to throw up but the hatred he’d allowed to fester. And that would never leave his system.
Not after what he’d done.
From his place hovering on the floor near the toilet, something else caught his attention. The tattoo on his bicep. NO GOD. As if he could just so boldly make the statement that God didn’t exist. Like by permanently saying so, he could undo the hurt his wife had caused him.
Undo the hurt he’d caused Cami and Ensley and Ellie.
Maybe if he took a small handful of pills he could go to sleep and never wake up and the world wouldn’t be the wiser. They would find him dead and assume he had died in his sleep. Natural causes. He could take the pills and then hide the bottle. Lie down on the bed and never get up again.
That way he’d never have to sit in a courtroom opposite his daughter. Never have to take the witness stand in opposition to Cami’s best friend.
God Almighty.
He could skip the whole thing if he could just pull it off. Make it look like he’d suffered a heart attack before morning light. He struggled to his feet and slid himself to the sink. He opened the medicine cabinet. Inside were half a dozen bottles. Andy looked at them one at a time. Sleeping pills. Yes, that would do the trick.
Andy poured a pile into the palm of his hand and hesitated. If only he believed in God. If only the Creator of the Universe could help him the way He had apparently helped Cami. But there was a difference between him and his daughter.
Cami believed.
Do it. Get the pills down you.
He wasn’t sure where the voice came from, but it was there and it meant business. Take the pills. The words practically shouted at him. Andy closed his eyes and smashed the handful of pills into his mouth. A swig of water from the faucet and the pills easily made their way down. There. Now he wouldn’t have to face any of them.
Especially not Cami. His sweet daughter. The one he’d turned into a public enemy. Andy tried to keep his brain engaged. He didn’t have long. Focus, he told himself. Cover your tracks.
He returned the lid and placed the bottle of pills back in the cabinet. Then he shut the cabinet door and made his way back to bed. Turn off the light. You have to turn off the light. Already the room was starting to spin. It was all Andy could do to get to the light switch and hit it.
One last thing. He needed to find his way under the covers. So it would look like he’d simply fallen asleep. Like this was any other night. He stumbled as he made his way to the edge of his bed.
The place where he slept.
The place where he would die.
Somehow he made his way under the blankets and that was all. He couldn’t move his hands or legs, couldn’t turn his head. When they found him tomorrow or the next day, he could only hope he looked normal. So no one would know the truth: That Andy Nelson simply couldn’t take another day. Couldn’t come before the world as Cami’s enemy.
His head was heavier now, his eyes, too. Andy wasn’t sure when he took his last breath, but his lungs no longer worked and something was pulling at him. Sleep or maybe something else. It took Andy a few seconds to figure it out and when he did, he felt a rush of fear. Like maybe this wasn’t what he wanted. Maybe he wanted to live.
He could’ve apologized to Cami. Called her up and offered to take her to lunch. Andy could’ve tried to make things right again. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Now he would never have the chance. Because the thing pulling at him wasn’t sleep.
It was a terrible, all-consuming darkness.
19
Wendell wrapped up the Raise the Bar meeting that Tuesday and met with students for an hour afterward. Their questions were sad and chilling at the same time. Was this the last time they’d be allowed to meet? Wendell didn’t know. Were the police going to show up and arrest people for reading the Bible? Most definitely not. Reading a Bible was a right afforded all Americans.
At least for now.
A few of the students told Wendell they weren’t sure they could stay out of their gangs if the club stopped meeting. “This group of kids is my new gang. They’re all I have,” one junior told Wendell. “Please win this case. So we can try to make things right for ourselves. So we can keep learning about our real Father.” The guy had tears in his eyes. “He’s the only Father I’ve ever had.”
The weight of it all pressed on Wendell’s shoulders and made the drive home feel longer than usual. I need to win this, Lord. Not just for me, but for the kids. Sure, a few of them might find a way to keep meeting. But it wouldn’t be the same. They need a place to meet, a chance to learn about You. What else do they have?
I am with you, My son. You will not have to fight this battle alone.
The response drifted across the barren surface of his soul like a warm breeze. There was no guarantee he would win. No promise any of them would win. But God would be with them. Somehow He would see them through. Even if telling students about God became a crime punishable by prison time, Wendell was up for the challenge.
I can do good here. In this moment. Right, Lord?
The trial was set to begin tomorrow morning.
Wendell’s last conversation with Luke hadn’t gone as well as either of them had hoped. Luke had read the presentation folders Wendell put together. He understood the historical foundation for a public expression of faith. He knew the quotes from the country’s founding fathers, and he had memorized the improved statistics at Hamilton High.
The problem, Luke had reiterated, was precedent. So far Luke hadn’t found any for what Wendell was doing. And common sense wasn’t an argument. Luke had mentioned to Wendell his son Tommy’s insight after a musical he saw. Even though it was interesting and refreshing, Luke still wasn’t sure he could use it as a defense.
The idea that Wendell was only doing what he’d been hired to do.
If they won the case, then sure—those things could become precedent for someone else. But typically religious freedom cases were won or lost based on cases that had come before. Luke even talked about Tommy’s encouragement that somebody had set precedent on those previous cases.
Now it was Luke’s turn to set it for someone else.
Luke had explained that believing it might happen was akin to believing in a miracle. Wendell had replayed Luke’s words ten times today. Don’t get your hopes up, Wendell. I want you to be ready to lose this thing.
Wendell was ready. But he wouldn’t go down without a fight. If he could look in the eyes of those jurors and explain that he had no other option, no other way to reach the kids at Hamilton High, then surely they would listen.
God would see to that.
He exhaled long and slow as he pulled his car into the garage and cut the engine. The kids needed dinner. Usually it fell to Jordy to get the meal started. The boy loved cooking. He even talked about opening a restaurant one day. But tonight the job would be Wendell’s. Jordy was headed out for a study group with Cami and a few other students.
As Wendell walked up the garage stairs he checked the time on his phone. Just after six-thirty. It would be three hours before he could think about the trial again. Dinner and dishes and homework would keep him busy until then.
And maybe that was a good thing.
He opened the door and suddenly he was looking into the face of Alicia Harris. “Hi, Wendell.” She took his briefcase from him and stepped aside. “Dinner’s ready.”
Behind her the children all wore sneaky smiles. Even Jordy. “Surprise!” Their voices came together in the happiest sound Wendell had heard all day.