Free Secrets and Lace: A Dark Romance Thriller (Fatal Hearts Series Book 1) by Dori Lavelle Page B

couldn't find it in her heart to grieve for the man who had hurt her so deeply.
    Neither of my parents had ever really been the religious kind, although Mom had brought me to church occasionally when I was younger. Like with everything else, she stopped out of the blue. I didn’t understand why, but I also didn’t ask. By then the distance between us was too great to cross.
    The Trinity Church was still as beautiful as I remembered, with its vivid stained glass windows and heavy, carved front door. Months after we stopped coming to the church, I would walk by often, contemplating whether I should enter. I used to envy the children playing on the swing in the large yard, or gazing into the koi pond. I hated that I couldn't be part of it. There were times I considered waking up early on Sunday before my parents got up and attending the service alone, but I had been afraid of being turned away. What if the reason we no longer attended church was because we had angered God in some way? What if we had been banished from the church?
    I stepped over a puddle of rainwater that reflected the sky, and ran up the stone steps. I pushed my weight against the heavy wooden door. It was a warm morning already, which meant it would be a hot day, but the interior of the church was cool. The sudden change in temperature sent goosebumps scattering across the skin on my arms. As I walked down the aisle, the slapping sound of my leather sandals echoed off the walls. I inhaled the faint scent of burning candles.
    Although I needed to go look for the office, I found myself standing in the middle of the aisle instead. In those few seconds, feeling to my heart rate slow down, a sense of calm fell over me. When was the last time I'd prayed? Did God even remember me?
    My gaze landed on the large statue of Jesus that hung from the wall behind the altar, coming to rest at the pulpit.
    In my mind's eye I saw the pastor standing up there, offering people hope beyond their pain and troubles. How many people came in here every Sunday carrying their burdens, wishing to leave lighter? And how many left feeling the same way? I was in no position to question God's power, since I didn't even know him. Did he really answer prayers? I decided I had nothing to lose by sending up a little prayer anyway.
    “Excuse me, can I help you?” The baritone voice behind me made me jump. I quit praying and spun around. From his robe I could tell instantly that he was the pastor. He was short, with hair so gray it was almost white. Did he have problems too, like the rest of us, or was he immune to suffering?
    “No.” I nibbled on my bottom lip. “Actually, yes, maybe you can. I'm Chloe Parker. I'm looking for Melanie Thompson. I heard she works here.”
    “Yes, yes. Melanie is in the office. I'm Pastor Fred Jennings. Please follow me, Ms. Parker.”
    As I walked behind him, I was glad I didn’t recognize him. If he didn’t know me, he didn’t know about the article I had written, and the chain of events that followed.
    A naked lamp hung from the middle of the ceiling, and yet the wood-paneled corridor was dim and eerie. We turned the corner.
    “Here we are.” Pastor Fred opened the door. “Melanie, you have a visitor.” He stepped aside, allowing me to enter.
    In contrast to the corridor we had just left, the office was bright, airy, and spacious. My gaze rested on the woman sitting behind one of the two desks, a huge window behind her, overlooking the sea.
    My breath caught as our eyes met and Melanie's eyes flickered. The only familiar thing about her was her unusually gray eyes. The sparkle she'd had in school was nowhere to be seen. Her once shiny hair was limp, her eyes dull and empty, and the bags under her eyes, visible even from the doorway. Where was the girl I had known? The girl everyone had admired? She'd had the best body, the glossiest hair, the longest legs… the best of everything. I had so much wanted to be like her back then. She had been the envy