Free Necessary Heartbreak by Michael J. Sullivan

had to know. I don’t understand why he came back.” She turned away from Elizabeth, deep in thought as she remembered that tragic day.

    Leah climbed to the second floor and looked out the window with concern. On her left she could see a few neighbors retrieving some fruit that had fallen from the fig trees. Over to the right, several Roman soldiers milled around in the distance, not too far from the aqueduct.
    She went back downstairs to the kitchen, picked up some grains from a bucket, and tossed a pile on the ground for the sheep that was nursing her lamb. Everywhere she moved in her now silent home seemed to have tragic reminders of a terrible time.
    Leah had taken up weaving over the past few weeks in an effort to escape the horrific memories. It was a way to stop reality and briefly regain the happiness she had felt only a short time ago. She fingered a pretty white robe, hoping she would be able to sell it in the marketplace.
    Leah started to stitch the bottom of the garment, then dropped it. Restlessly she walked back to the window again, looking left and then right. She repeated this several times, never adding more than a stitch or two at a time.
    On the seventh try at working on the robe, she tossed it in a basket and retreated to an empty adjoining room. There, lying on a small mat, was a tiny blanket. Leah picked it up and held it to her face. She breathed deeply several times, allowing the scent to engulf her body as if the aroma would strengthen her soul.
    It felt like another sunset had passed when she removed it, her tears soaking a section. Leah fell to the floor, clenching the garment. She stared at the room, absorbing all the details—a wooden cradle, a small robe she had recently made, and a plate and cup.
    â€œWhy? Why? Oh, why?” she moaned in a broken voice. “My Sarah. Oh, my Sarah. Oh, my Sarah. I miss you.”
    Leah tightened her grip on the blanket, rubbing it softly against her eyes. She touched the cradle, placing her hand inside it. Her bodyheaved back and forth. “Why? Why? I need to know why!” she cried with more anger. “Tell me, why?”
    Her body gradually began to relax but she never released her hold on the blanket. Leah went downstairs to the kitchen and poured a cup of water. Sitting down at the table, she dabbed her eyes. She laid her head down on her folded arms, listening for any sounds.
    The muffled noises of boys and girls playing outside shook her momentarily. Eventually, Leah drifted in and out of consciousness. As her shadow on the wall dissipated, she was vaguely aware that the sounds of the children had gone silent. She rose and headed back upstairs, placing a cup and plate on one mat next to where another neatly arranged set was waiting. The plate had several nuts, while the cup was filled with wine and water. The odor disturbed her so she replaced them with fresh wine and food.
    She sat down, transfixed, on the opposite mat. Leah shook her head, deep in thought as she remembered the last time she had shared a happy meal with Yochanan. “We are blessed, my love,” he had said that glorious evening. “We are going to be a family.”
    Leah touched her flat stomach and sighed. She got to her feet a few moments later, hearing some noises outside.
Could this be Yochanan?
she thought hopefully.
Yochanan?
    Her heart thumped as she ran to the window. “Yochanan?” she said forcefully. She could see a brown-haired stranger gesturing wildly near the well.
    â€œJohn, get out of here!” the man shouted.
    â€œI’m coming. Go. Now. Run!”
    That sounds like Yochanan
, she thought.
He is home. Thank you! Thank you!
    Leah scurried up the ladder to the top of the house to greet him. The commotion outside turned violent and intense, confusing her as she stepped to the side of the roof to see what was happening. Several Roman soldiers were chasing two men, throwing rocks. One struck the brown-haired man on the back of