Free The Survivor by DiAnn Mills

version.”
    “It’s in the past, and your being Rose’s mother is what matters.”
    “In many respects, I agree. But someday I want the truth.” Vicki folded her hands, her unique way of passing time while she formed her words. “You haven’t worked through every part of that experience either—the kidnapping or why you and Tigo aren’t together anymore. You two were solid, inseparable, and then it was over. And, sis, you haven’t begun to get over him.”
    “I’m dealing with it. God’s faithful, and my Wednesday-morning Bible study has given me strength to forgive and move on.”
    “What about the nightmares?”
    “Still there, but not as often.”
    “Not talking about Tigo doesn’t do your heart a bit of good.”
    Vicki was right. Keeping her feelings bottled up meant that when Kariss finally did uncap them, the fizz would dribble for a long time. Kariss took a wistful look at the sleeping baby.
    “Was it Conn on Thanksgiving Day?”
    Kariss remembered what her brother had said. It hadn’t helped what she’d learned. “His glossy statement about me dating an unbeliever?” She shook her head. “As if he had a clue. He goes to the church of Saturday night bar fights and Sundays in jail.”
    “He was really out of line. Dad did a good job of ending it. I mean Tigo was going to church, thanked Dad for the new Bible—”
    “Sis, that wasn’t it. Telling you isn’t easy, but I’ll try.”
    “You’ve always been there for me, and now it’s my turn. Take a deep breath while I get a box of tissues. Something tells me we’ll both need them before you’re through.”
    When Vicki sat down with the tissues, Kariss began.
    “On Thanksgiving evening, we came back here. After you went to bed, Tigo wanted to watch a movie, but I told him we needed to talk.” Kariss picked up Rose’s teddy bear, hoping itmight offer a little comfort, though she knew her security was in God, not her niece’s toy. “I needed to ask him about something he’d neglected to tell me.”
    The memory sliced deep … his words … her realization … the decision. Kariss’s cell phone rang, and she grabbed it before it woke Rose. A quick glance told her it was Amy Garrett, a call she needed to take. But she had no problem with Vicki hearing a one-sided conversation. Her sister’s input was often a vital perspective. She answered.
    “Hi, Kariss. I wanted to check back with you since we last spoke. Is this an okay time to talk?”
    “Sure.” Kariss welcomed the opportunity to put a pause on her discussion with Vicki.
    “I’ve been praying about what I should do regarding my story—nonfiction or fiction. I want to continue with the idea of a novel. I appreciate your weighing in on the reality factor. Reliving the whole thing
will
be difficult, but I’m committed to the book.”
    “Amy, moving forward with this is exciting. I’ve decided I want to write this novel for you, as I believe your courage and survival will inspire every reader. But not at the expense of sinking you into depression. I have to know every painful moment. People read novels for the emotion, among other things. I don’t know how much of your tragedy can be included in the story until I hear the entire thing. I’d like you to think about the treacherous waters ahead. And what it means if your assailant has a vendetta.”
    “I appreciate your concern. I won’t leave anything out.”
    Amy’s responses still sounded canned to Kariss, as they had at their first meeting. That would need to change if they worked together. “This project needs to be built on trust. I have questions, and I’ll need to have honest answers.”
    “I think you’re referring to being open about the man who assaulted me. I’ve lived with the threat of him for years. It hasn’t stopped me from achieving any of my goals.”
    “But you haven’t gone public with the story before, other than the newspaper reports.”
    “I’m not the least concerned,” Amy said. “Shall