Free A Greater Love by Rachel Ann Nunes Page A

she back yet?”
    He shrugged. “She’ll come when she’s done drinkin’. You know how she is. But here, give me the key. I’ll let her in when she comes. It’ll probably be late and you gotta sleep.” He took the string with the key and put it around his own neck.
    When Sara was asleep, he staggered to the lantern, blew it out, and walked blindly back to the blanket near the dim coals of the fire. Cuddling next to his sister, he let the warmth of her body flood him, easing the fear. Whatever happened, he had Sara.
    But no! It couldn’t be true. Tomorrow Octávia would be at him again to get more money. Maybe she would even slap him. He would be nicer to her. He would even find her a Christmas present. Tonight’s event was all a nightmare and tomorrow when they awoke Octávia would be alive and well as she had been this morning. Yes, tomorrow everything would be all right.
     

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    Daniel strolled along the cobblestone sidewalk, his feet heavy and dragging despite his conscious effort to pretend everything was normal. Under his thigh-length wool coat, he wore an expensive wool suit and a gray and white pin-stripped shirt, open at the collar. In his hands he clutched a leather briefcase.
    “Good morning, Senhor Andrade,” his secretary said a short time later. She flashed him a smile, white in contrast to her ebony skin.
    Daniel started. How did I get here? He remembered nothing of his customary commute on the bus. “Uh, good morning, Claudia. How are you today?”
    “Good, thank you.”
    “Anything up for right now?”
    “You’ve got that religious group here again wanting the final permission on the nativity scene in the park.” She lowered her voice. “They’re a little upset that we’ve taken so long to approve it. After all, it’s already the first week of December.” The way she said it told Daniel she agreed with the group.
    Daniel blinked. How’d it get to be that late in the year? How long had Cristina been gone? Had it been two weeks? No, almost three. She’d left in mid-November, little more than a week after they had gone sailing for the last time together. Daniel had never told Claudia that his wife had left. Maybe he should. Maybe then she’d be more sympathetic. He sighed. “Very well, I’ll see them now.”
    “Okay.” She rose gracefully from her chair and headed in the direction of the waiting room.
    “Claudia.” His voice stopped her. “Give me five minutes before sending them in.”
    “Sure.”
    “Thanks.”
    She paused and searched his face. “Is something wrong?”
    He shook his head. “I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well.”
    Daniel opened the door to his office. It was spacious, more room than he needed, but he sometimes felt trapped inside. Four plush chairs sat vacantly in front of his oak desk and a large, high-backed one, upholstered in padded black leather, sprawled behind it. Into this chair he settled, sighing with pleasure.
    The feeling was short-lived. On the desk, a photograph of Cristina mocked him from its silver frame. He grabbed it angrily and shoved it into the desk drawer, slamming his thumb inside. Bringing the throbbing thumb to his mouth, he whirled his chair around to gaze out the third-story window behind him. The pain in his thumb subsided, but the ache in his heart didn’t dim.
    There was nothing to see out the window but a row of unending buildings and a thin crowd of people walking below. The dark colors of winter and the sea of black widow’s garb depressed him further. Maybe he should wear black; he felt as though he were in mourning. Where are you, Cristina?
    A short time later, Claudia ushered in the group of five men and two women. They were members of seven different religious groups in the area, all Christians, joined together for one cause only: to set up a manger scene in the park along Main Street. Three of the seven—the Evangelicals, the Catholics, and the Mormons—had buildings nearby, and