Found and Lost by Amanda G. Stevens

Author:Amanda G. Stevens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian, Church, Church Persecution, Dystopian, Futuristic, Literary, Oppression, Persecution, Resistance, Speculative, Visionary
Publisher: David C. Cook
Published: 2015-02-08T16:00:00+00:00

26

Even if she weren’t at the mercy of strangers, Violet should have wakened Khloe first thing. They should have taken turns in the shower, whispered plans or commiseration, performed the bracelet-bump, and gone downstairs side by side. Violet shouldn’t have crept to the closet for fresh clothes and glanced over her shoulder to make sure Khloe’s eyes hadn’t opened.

She showered in five minutes and pulled on a blue V-neck shirt and a pair of Capri jeans that sagged a bit at the hips. Whatever. They wouldn’t fall down, and she hadn’t seen any belts in the closet. Okay, now for breakfast. Her stomach rumbled, but her feet held back. She wasn’t scared, not exactly. Belinda wasn’t going to poison her. Marcus wasn’t going to hit her. But facing them prickled every nerve in her spine. Violet pulled in a breath. They knew what she’d done. She knew what they’d done, were still doing. Go down and face them. Like an adult. And do what Lee had told her to do—watch and form her own opinions.

Lee was halfway down the stairs when Violet reached the top. She spotted Violet through the banister and waited for her. Her short black hair gleamed, still damp. Her jeans and crew-neck top fit too perfectly to be on loan from Belinda’s closetfuls. Maybe she kept a change of clothes in her car.

“Good morning.” The words held complete calm. This version of Lee didn’t know how to hyperventilate.

Who are you really? “Hi, Lee.”

Lee continued down the stairs. Violet was obviously supposed to follow. At the bottom, she halted again but didn’t meet Violet’s eyes.

“I would appreciate your discretion regarding what … happened to me last night.”

“I don’t really have anyone to tell. Marcus won’t even look at me, and I won’t tell Belinda, either, if that’s what you want.”

Lee’s glance ricocheted off Violet. “Thank you.”

They entered the kitchen without further words. The scent of bacon and eggs enveloped Violet along with Belinda’s buoyant twang.

“You’ve got no reason to doubt my eggs. You’ve never tasted them before.”

On one side of the stove, Belinda wore her orange apron over a flowered housedress and stood over a deep-bottomed skillet. At the other burner, clad in carpenter jeans and a fresh ivory T-shirt, Marcus bent his head over a smaller skillet.

“It’s not doubt,” he said.

“Get away from here.” Belinda shooed at him with her free hand and flipped something with the spatula.

“I can flip eggs.”

“I don’t need you flipping anything. Just go sit at the table.”

“And Lee likes them scrambled. Don’t make them all for me.”

“I’m not planning on over-easy for all of them. I got plenty of eggs, and I got plenty of kitchen savvy, so you go sit down and stop pestering me before I send you home with no breakfast.”

He reached for the spatula.

“Marcus!” Belinda shoulder-bumped his arm.

He didn’t budge. A smile creased around his eyes. “They’re done.”

“Go. Sit. I’m fixing this food, not you.”

He turned, and his gaze landed on Lee and Violet with a quick furrow of confusion, as if surprised to find an ally and an enemy side by side.

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