Miracle Girl by Jennifer DiGiovanni

Author:Jennifer DiGiovanni [DiGiovanni, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: inspirational YA
Publisher: vinspirepublishing
Published: 2019-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

“How’s Sami?” I ask Braeden when I duck in his car the next morning.

He hesitates before feeding me information. “Better. She liked the books.”

How are you? I want to ask, but the way he curls his body over the steering wheel, like he’s protecting an open wound in his chest, holds me back. I give him silence. I can’t ignore the hurt on his face and pretend everything is okay.

At work, I flip out my key to open the office. Dad and Mia are in court and Celeste scheduled an early morning doctor’s appointment for her daughter. After switching on the copier, I add water to the coffee machine and scrounge around for filing to keep busy. Celeste usually leaves a to-do list when she’s out. Today, nothing. When the phone rings, I rush to pick it up.

“This is Father Foley, the chaplain at the Saint Piera Holy Shrine. I’m calling for Attorney Strong.”

“Mr. Strong is in court today. Can I take a message, Father?” I root around in the desk for a pen.

“Actually, I’m calling about his daughter, Leanne. We’d still like her to attend the dedication and possibly say a few words about her miracle. We’re expecting quite a large crowd, plus several television crews.”

My hand shakes as I scribble a short note for Dad and promise to relay the message. After hanging up, I press my fingers to my forehead, willing my heart to stop pounding. How can I stand in front of a shrine filled with people and pretend to understand what happened to me? I’m not a good example for the deeply religious. I’m a total fraud. The real Leanne is not a highly spiritual person. I try to be a good person, but I’ll never rise to the level of what’s expected of me. I don’t read the Bible for daily inspiration. I read Teen Vogue. Or romance novels.

I struggle to take a breath. The air in the office feels too thin.

“Are you okay?” Braeden’s voice startles me.

“I can’t do this,” I say, more to myself.

He rounds the corner of the desk, striding toward me, his dark eyebrows pulled together. “Can’t do what?”

“Someone named Father Foley called. He’s the priest at the new shrine and he wants me to talk about the miracle during the dedication. In front of thousands of people, including television crews.” I hold up the message with Father’s number, wishing I’d let the phone go to voicemail.

Braeden lowers himself into Celeste’s chair and waits. I start to pace circles around him.

“The problem is, I have nothing to say. Whenever I try to put the experience into words, my mind freezes. With a huge crowd watching, I’ll probably pass out cold on the marble floor.”

Braeden sinks farther back into the chair, thinking. “You can work up to public speaking. Write everything down in case your mind wipes out on you. Start out by practicing in front of me and Sami.”

I shake my head. “It’s not about public speaking.”

“What’s it about, then? If you need speech ideas, I can help.

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