and breathed in t

eady to sa

could stay here, in this space we share

when

uldn't come with a jury and a gavel. It woul

he Lord moves slow, just a little slow

oking into it." They said, "These things take time." But I knew better. Time wouldn't heal this wound. Time wou

lt something settle deep inside me - heavier than grief, colder than anger. It was resolve, pur

hospital bed. That was the only person

wake up? May

room. Macreen had been laid to rest and li

ps of paper, was the small revolver my father had given me years ago. "For emergencies," he'd said

s. My hands were steady as I checked the chamber. Five bullets. Five chances

ed to feel strong. I slid it over my shoulders, the sleeves still carrying her wa

f a distant car. Somewhere out there, walking free, was the man who had taken her from

ed. The law h

't abandon

wasn't

wa