Page 60 of The Christmas Door

This was about protecting six fragile futures.

They couldn’t get this wrong.

CHAPTER 29

Amayah guidedLuke into her office, closing the door softly behind them. The faint tick of the clock settled into the space, but neither of them spoke right away.

“They’re terrified,” she finally whispered. “I thought I was helping them by letting things stay quiet, but I think I may have waited too long.”

Luke leaned back against the wall, jaw tight. “You didn’t cause this.”

“I still feel responsible.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If I’d pushed harder, or if I’d made a call sooner . . .”

“You weren’t wrong to be cautious.”

“You’re pretty wise, you know.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I am.” She stepped forward without thinking and squeezed his hand. “Maybe . . . maybe God brought you to my door for a reason.”

A wounded half-smile touched his lips. “Or maybe I just tripped over the wrong threshold.”

Her gaze softened. “I think He knew exactly which door to open.”

He looked at her then—really looked at her—like he wanted to say something that had been clawing at him for days.

“Amayah, I need to tell you?—”

Before he could finish, the front door slammed.

Luke’s pulse spiked as he sprinted back into the living room, sensing something was wrong.

“Eli?” Amayah called, following close behind.

But the room was empty.

The chair Eli had been sitting in lay tipped sideways.

The half-eaten peanut butter sandwich sat abandoned on the table.

He’d run, Luke realized. Eli had run and taken Clara with him.

Luke bolted outside.

Across the narrow yard, Eli and his sister rushed back toward the Crump house, shoving open their front door and disappearing inside before Luke could reach them.

“Eli, wait!” he shouted, pounding the cold air. “We just want to talk some more.”

Silence answered.

Amayah stepped beside him, her breath coming harsh and worried. “Please, Eli. We want to help.”

Minutes ticked by. Snow shifted under their feet.

There was no reply. No movement from the house.

Not even a curtain flicker.