Page 66 of Wasted

At least she was the only person in the damp room that housed two other cells. An unpleasant stench was her only companion. She tried not to ponder what could have created such an odor, tried not to imagine having to sleep there on the cot in the corner.

Dad would secure her release soon.

She almost hadn’t phoned him. Since he’d already blamed and berated her for being questioned by the police, being arrested would bring even greater wrath upon her.

But she also knew he wouldn’t waste time lecturing her or doling out consequences yet. He would wait until he secured her release. With all his faults, he always protected his children and family from physical harm or public embarrassment, at least as much as he could. He would see that she was released and well-represented, should the murder charge come to court.

The possibility swelled in her throat, thwarting her ability to breathe and remain calm.

“I’ll find the truth and get you out.” Cillian’s last words to her rushed to the front of her mind. The look in his eyes as he’d said those words, a sparking blend of ferocity and passion, had comforted and frightened her at the same time.

Lord, please don’t let him do anything foolish that will get him into trouble or put him in harm’s way.

He’d already nearly gotten himself arrested trying to protect her from the police.

The situation was the ultimate irony—rebellious Cillian Doherty promising to rescue her, the rule-follower, from jail.

She always followed the rules, at least according to Cillian and her family. She certainly always tried to. Yet here she was, incarcerated.

The circumstances might make her reconsider whether obeying the rules, following directions, and submitting to those in authority was the correct choice.

But her mother had modeled those life choices. And she had thrived, beloved and respected by all, even her exacting husband, as she maintained peaceful relationships. Her friends had flocked to her, seeking counsel for their marriages and work relationships.

More importantly, Christ commanded His followers to submit to people in authority and be peacemakers. As with many of God’s commands, following them did not guarantee pleasant results.

Sometimes, apparently, one could even end up behind bars.

A clang jumped her pulse.

The large, heavy door of the holding area opened, and a female officer stepped through, the same one who had searched Victoria and given her the horrid orange uniform to wear. The officer held the door open as if someone else was going to appear.

Something black and silver emerged from the doorway first. Then feet.

A wheelchair. Spring.

Victoria’s heart warmed at the sight of her sister as Spring wheeled herself into the room with strong, smooth rotations.

Spring rolled past the first side of bars and rounded the corner closer to where Victoria stood. Then she effortlessly angled the chair to face Victoria through the bars.

Pride swelled in Victoria’s chest. To think that only four months ago, Spring had refused to even try to push her wheelchair. And now she was poetry in motion, in every area of her life.

Spring looked at the officer, apparently waiting for her to step out of the room and let the door close behind her. The police would’ve thoroughly searched Spring and would be watching them on the cameras, of course. But it seemed she wanted a sense of privacy as much as Victoria did in this cold space that simultaneously felt exposed and claustrophobic.

As soon as they were alone, Spring aimed her gaze at Victoria and then the bars between them, her large brown eyes reflecting more sadness than Victoria felt herself.

“I didn’t think they would allow visitors.” Victoria mustered a small smile. “At least not this soon.”

Spring’s tongue slid over her lips to moisten them. “Dad pulled some strings.”

Of course he had. “Was he able to secure my release?”

A disheartening frown shaped Spring’s mouth. “He’s ready to post bail just as soon as the judge okays it. But the decision won’t be made until tomorrow.”

Victoria’s stomach twisted and her heart rate increased. She would have to stay in this place overnight. She couldn’t do that.

I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.

The Scripture verse sprang instantly to mind—God’s answer to her fear. He would get her through this, somehow.