A 'Touched by an Angel' story

By: Yvette Jessen

© 2003 not intended to infringe on any previously held copyrights.

Please Note: This story is the twenty-first in a sequence of stories, which I have written, which are centered on my character, Christina, her family and friends. The first one is entitled ‘The Innocence of a Child’, the second ‘A Little Girl’s Wish’, the third ‘The Senior Prom’, the fourth 'Stealing Second', the fifth 'Another Halloween Night', the sixth 'An Overdue Appointment', the seventh 'Homecoming', the eighth 'Solitary Without Hope', the ninth 'Making the Grade', the tenth 'Till Death Do Us Part', the eleventh 'Olivia's Battle', the twelfth 'In the Father's Arms', the thirteenth 'The Healing Spirit', the fourteenth 'Fulfilled Promises', the fifteenth 'Pennies From Heaven', the sixteenth, 'The Father's Little Ones', the seventeenth, 'In the Heart of a Dreamer', the eighteenth, 'Letting Go', the nineteenth, 'Sealed With a Kiss', and the twentieth, 'A Brand New Beginning'.

*****

Christina Lowery looked out the window of her office. She had been going through files all afternoon and now she was exhausted. As she sat with a hot cup of cocoa in front of her, she shook her head as someone tapped on the door and she looked up to see her boss, Peter Harris, coming into the small room.

"Christina," the gray-headed psychologist spoke, his voice soft, and she offered him a reciprocating smile.

"Yes, Dr. Harris?" She spoke, her voice a depiction of her exhaustion, but at the same time, it was filled with warmth, a seemingly characteristic in Christina's overall stance.

"When are you going to start calling me Peter?" He asked; his grayish green eyes twinkling merrily as he regarded her.

"I don't know, I guess I never really thought much about it," she shrugged her shoulders and looked at him. "You're my boss."

Peter chuckled and looked at her, the laugher dying away as he remembered the reason that he had disrupted her. "Christina, as you know, I'm retiring at the end of the month, and that means there are going to be some changes made around here. I had been meaning to come see you before now in order to discuss this with you, but seeing as things have been so hectic, I didn't really have much of a chance. Aside from work, Dana has been bugging me about getting that trip to Australia planned, and so work has kind of been taking the backseat to things like booking scuba diving lessons and making sure that the hotel we pick has the important things like an all night diner nearby." He smiled impishly. "I guess you know that I've been rather excited about retiring, but I also realized that some plans needed to be made here as well," he said sighing deeply as though about to tell her something important but seeming to have it stuck right on the tip of his tongue.

She smiled and nodded. "I know that you've been talking about this trip for a long time, so I'm glad to hear that you are finally going to take it."

"Yes, well, now you know that this is finally starting to happen for us, but Christina the reason I'm here is because I have a few choices to make and some of them do actually involve you. In fact, when it comes to the future of this practice, probably most of them do. Although, Jana and Stephanie have been here for the past ten or so years, you've been my assistant for over 23 years. What I'm trying to say is that you started working here when you left college, and since then, you've been taking night classes to get your doctorate and other qualification certifications, and with that being the case, I have made some decisions. Since I decided to retire, I realized how imperative it is that this office continue working at the level it has been doing for the last 30 or so years, and I would hope that it would continue to do so even after I'm gone."

"W-what are you trying to say?" She asked as the words got caught in her throat and she looked at him expectantly.

"What I'm saying is that this office will continue running, and that the new doctor in charge will be Christina Lowery," he smiled and when he saw her face, he continued. "Based on that Cheshire cat grin, I am left to conclude that this meets with your approval?"

Christina stood up and went around the desk and took his hands in hers and squeezed them. "Dr. Harris, I mean, Peter, I-I'm flattered, thank you."

Peter nodded but he looked at Christina, "well now that you know about this, I think it's time for me to tell you the bad news."

"Bad news?" She asked.

"Well, you know the old saying 'there's good news and there's bad news', and I'm afraid that this might damper some of what I have already told you. Go ahead and sit down, this is not going to be easy."

Christina did as he said and sat down on the sofa on one side of her office. "What's the bad news?" She finally managed to ask.

"One of the new children," he took a deep breath, but he looked at her, his eyes shadowing over with indescribable sadness. "Her name is Melanie Christianson, she's 11-years-old, and she's being sent here because after what she has been through for the past few months, children's services has sort of expected that she would come here and get some counseling."

"Does this have anything to do with what happened in the news last week, the story breaking about the children being sexually abused and the pedophiles being arrested for it?" Christina asked as the color drained from her cheeks. She had heard about the horrors of this story, it had been all over the newspapers and in the local news coverage, but she also knew because her husband Jeremy worked as a sketch artist for the police. This poor little girl in particular had been abused extensively and pictures had been posted on the Internet. Hearing these words emerging from Peter only succeeded in making the tears well up from beneath her emphatic eyes. Not only had this particular story directly affected a child in their small community, but also it had literally shaken the foundation of the town.

Christina took a deep breath. "Is Melanie going to be put in my care, Peter?"

The elder psychologist nodded. "She won't come within two feet of me, Christina. She doesn't trust men at all, and it positively breaks my heart, but what can I do?" He shrugged his shoulders as the questions emerged. Sighing deeply, he looked at her. "Christina, I know that anything dealing with children having gone through these kinds of horrors really breaks your heart, but could you take her case? I know that this is asking a lot of you, but I also know that you have an much broader understanding of abused children as you have taken a number of them into your home. You raised them with love and compassion, so I know that Melanie will be in the best of hands with you."

"Who is she living with now?" Christina asked softly.

"Her paternal grandmother, Louise," Peter said sadly, "but the child is so disturbed that the grandmother is ready to send her straight into a psychiatric hospital. It has reached the breaking point with them and although I don't blame Louise, I do know that the child needs immediate help."

Christina nodded. "I'll take the case," she whispered. "It may be hard, but if I can keep her out of an institution, then I will do whatever I can."

Peter smiled weakly. "Thank you, I have the file on her in my office, but it's pretty bad, she's probably been through a lot, even more than Laura had. Her case file reads like a police report, and that really gets to me, but that's how it is. The parents are in jail, the child living with her grandmother, but pushing the envelope towards being a ward of the state."

Christina's thoughts immediately shifted to her adopted daughter. Now at 24, Laura was happily married and living a few blocks away from her, Jeremy and their adopted daughters, Dawn and Denise. "Peter, I'll do whatever I can. When is Melanie supposed to come here?"

"Tomorrow morning at 10," he said, but he looked at her with concern shadowing his features. "Are you completely sure that you can handle doing this?"

Christina nodded. "If not me, who?"

"I don't honestly know," the older man said as he left the office only to return a few moments later with the file. He wordlessly placed this on her desk and exited the room once again. Once he was gone, Christina got up and went back over to the desk to sit down and begin looking through the file.

What she read made tears start streaming down her cheeks and she rubbed her hands sadly over her face. "Oh Father, please help me," she whispered her prayer under her breath as she closed her eyes.

She took another deep breath and got up some minutes later and looked across her small but spacious office. I got promoted, she thought happily, but when she looked down at the file in front of her, she realized just how short lived even that little joy was for her. Andrew, she thought of her long time friend at that moment. She had not seen him since Laura's wedding and that was about four years ago. She smiled weakly as she thought about the compassionate Angel of Death, but more than anything, she wondered what he would do in a situation like this.

Without warning, she heard her name being called and she looked up to see that one of Andrew's friends was standing in the room, it was another Angel of Death named Adam. Although she hadn't seen him in a very long time, she immediately recognized that the sadness that enveloped him seemed to match her own and something deep inside of her seemed to confirm that he was as affected by Melanie's story as she now was.

"A-Adam, what are you doing here?" She eventually asked softly once she had found her voice and was able to speak. When she saw the ever-present emptiness in his gray eyes, she knew that something was not settling right with him and she wondered what specifically had happened to him. Without thinking, she tossed the file back on the desk and inched over so that he could come over and sit down next to her.

Once he did, she watched as he rubbed his face with his hands and looked at her. "It's Andrew, Christina, he's walked away from his job and he desperately needs your help."

"What happened?" She asked.

He pointed to the file that was still on the table and then he looked at her. "Andrew loves children, Christina, and now that he has had to see a little girl treated in the way that was described in that folder, he's completely devastated."

Christina rested her hand on his shoulder. "It looks to me as though he's not the only one. How are you doing?"

Adam shook his head. "It's very hard, but I think I'm OK."

"Are you sure?" She asked gently as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Adam, I'm probably not the best to help you, but if you want to talk to me, I will listen."

He shook his head. "You will have your hands full with Melanie."

"I know, but you're my friend too, and nothing you tell me will surprise me after reading through that folder," she could feel the tears in her eyes as she looked at him. "Adam, something tells me that you saw a lot of what Andrew did and that you're close to an emotional collapse."

The devastated angel nodded. "You're good."

"I've been doing this for a few years," she whispered all the while trying to smile, but the sadness seemed to win the war on her emotions. "You know, I did get promoted today."

"You're not happy about it?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Some things take precedence. I mean; this is probably the most severe case I have ever taken on, and I know that the situation is really bad, but I wonder if I'm the right one for it," she said softly.

"For what it's worth, I think you are," he said.

"Yeah, but it's been over four years since you last saw us," she objected.

Adam smiled weakly as he rubbed his hands across his bearded chin. "Christina, when you help Melanie, chances are, you will help Andrew too, but it looks as though the only way you can is to give Melanie the chance to trust him."

"That's impossible, Peter said that Melanie doesn't trust men at all, Adam. I can't force her to accept Andrew. I mean, it's going to take a lot of time and work on both their parts," she said softly.

"She will have to, or else that little girl will be institutionalized and if that happens, then she will eventually die," Adam said earnestly.

"You're not kidding, are you?" Christina asked.

Adam shook his head. "This time, I really wish I was."

Christina nodded, but after a few moments, she spoke. "Adam, can you tell me where Andrew is?"

Adam nodded and once he had given her a slip of paper, he was gone and Christina sat back down next to where he had been seated. She remained there for a few moments, but eventually found herself getting to her feet. She packed the file into her briefcase, and reached for her jacket. Once she had put that on, she swung the strap of the leather briefcase over her shoulder, and left the office quickly.

*****

Some three miles from where she worked, Christina pulled her car to the side of the road and grabbed the piece of paper from off the dashboard, consulted it, nodded and returned it to the spot where she had retrieved it. She cut the motor, climbed out, and locked the car before walking towards a large crevice that was situated on the other side of the narrow two-lane road. She climbed slowly over the barricade and followed the trail down into the valley below.

As she reached this area, she could see a patch of white in front of her and the back of someone's head. Upon recognizing the person as he moved towards a larger crevice that led down into a gully, she called out his name. "Andrew!" When he abruptly stopped and turned around, it was then that she was able to see his face. She released a pent up sigh as she climbed down the crevice somewhat.

When she reached where he was standing, she was suddenly taken aback by his disheveled appearance. Yet, what seemed to stand out the most about him was the fact that his usually compassionate green eyes carried an eerie depiction of anger and hostility, both emotions making him seem more like a stranger on the street and less like an endeared and trusted friend.

"What do you want?" He asked as he turned around and his stony gaze returned to the gully below giving him more the sense of an angry man than an angel from God.

"I was worried about you," she said softly.

"Well, no one asked you, Christina, so why don't you just go away?" He responded coldly, his question piercing her heart like a dagger that went straight into her soul. "Knowing me is not safe for anyone."

"Andrew I…" her voice trailed off.

"Go away, you're worse off having known me, Christina," he said, his voice still cold, and she shook her heard in profound shock and disbelief.

"Where on earth do you go off saying such nonsense?" Christina asked before she could even stop herself.

When he snapped his head back around and looked at her, she backed self-consciously away. Now, she could see the extent of his hopelessness and anger, but she also realized that another emotion encased her when her eyes met his own, and, oddly enough, that was fear.

He won't hurt you, he's an angel, these words seemed to be cursing through her mind and she stood her ground and regarded him with sadness in her eyes.

Eventually, he turned away from her. "If you don't want to get hurt, then I suggest you go away," he said softly.

"Get hurt? Who by?" Christina looked at him. "Andrew, please, I'm not the one who is hurting, it's you, I can tell just by looking at you."

"And you're trying to play this psychologist game with me and I don't want to hear it," he snapped, his eyes filled with hidden pain and anguish.

Christina looked at him not bothering to hide her shock and sadness with his response to her. "No, that's not true, and you know it. I am only trying to be your friend. Andrew, I can't do that unless you let me, and right now, you're acting like a bratty little kid."

"Then if that's what you really think, why don't you just go away and leave me alone?" He asked evenly. "I don't need you."

She shook her head as she reached over and touched his shoulder. "I won't go away Andrew, and whether you believe it or not, you need someone, and it's obvious that you have pushed everyone else away." As she spoke, she inched closer to where he was standing. "Please don't push me away, I really do want to help you."

Andrew turned abruptly around and without thinking, he responded in the very same manner in which she had just described. Without thinking twice, he pushed her roughly away. "Just go away and quit trying to pretend that you care."

Upon feeling his shove, Christina fell backwards all the while, crying out as she toppled into the small cavern. As she landed, she could feel the rocks finding their way beneath her clothing and cutting her skin. After a few moments, she looked up to see that he was standing over the edge of the crevice and looking down at her.

This time, instead of regarding her coldly, she could see the obvious shock and guilt that was evident in his eyes. This time, instead of responding angrily when she made eye contact with him, she could tell instantly that he had probably realized what it was he had done. Seconds later, he climbed down into the cavern and was on his knees next to her.

Instead of acknowledging his presence, she continued to rub the pebbles and dirt off of her clothes. As she did, she kept her head down, the shock over what had just transpired, somehow overshadowing her every, thought, feeling, and emotion.

"So that's it, huh?" She whispered; her eyes filled with hidden pain. "You're so hurt by what has happened to you that the only thing you can do is go and hurt someone who has only loved and cared for you for 45 plus years." She shook her head despondently as she tried to get to her feet. When she felt that her ankle was twisted, she could feel the tears stinging her eyes, but instead of showing him that she was hurt, she bit down on her lip and tried to climb out of the small cavern without so much as asking for his help.

After a few moments of unsuccessfully trying, she plopped back down on the ground all the while rubbing her injured ankle before trying one last time to get herself out of the small cavern and back up onto the ledge. For some time, she tried, but eventually she gave up and remained on the ground, her eyes staring down at the ground. "I can't get up, it hurts too much."

Andrew took a deep breath but said nothing as he inched over to where she was and helped her up and over the crevice. Once they were both out of the crevice, she looked up at him trying all the while to keep the angry, hurt and accusing glare, out of her expression. Eventually, she spoke, her words filled with sadness. "You must have lost a lot of hope," she whispered as tried to get to her feet in order to walk away from him. "I guess, there's really nothing I can do," she said more to herself than to him, but her painful words continued, the sadness and disappointment clearly present as her words continued. "The Andrew I know would never have pushed me, he would never have hurt me with accusing words and actions. He would have just cared, and accepted that I'm here and only wanted to help. I guess when his hope dried up, the friend I treasured all but disappeared."

She started to hobble away her back now to him, but as she did, she did not notice that Andrew's face had suddenly lost all its color and he reached out to her, his fingertips now brushing against her upper back. This gesture did not stab at her conscious, instead, it was the simple one word that he spoke that made her stop and turn around. "Christina?"

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with sadness, but she tried with everything that was inside her to face him with the traces of courage that were now dwindling in her spirit. "What is it, Andrew?"

He shook his head and she could tell that he was trying with everything in him to drown out the images of what it was he had seen. At the same time, Adam's words in her office suddenly filtered back into her conscious and she reached a hand out to him and after a few moments, she could feel the warmth of his fingers encircling her hand, the warmth of his hand blocking the coolness of the breeze that was now blowing.

"Forgive me, Christina, please?" Andrew eventually spoke, his voice cracking and she looked up and could see the tears of regret streaming from beneath his unhappy green eyes.

Without speaking for a few moments, she nodded. When she eventually found her voice, she looked at him. "You hurt me," she whispered.

"I know," Andrew covered his face with one of his hands and she could see that his head was down, his hair hanging in clumps down over his shoulders. After a few moments, she unconsciously shivered and he noticed that she was there without a jacket.

"I'm sorry, but its s-so cold out here, Andrew, so maybe we should talk about this at home," she said as she tried to button her lightweight jacket. Andrew put his arm around her shoulder and helped her to walk back in the direction of where her car was parked along the side of the road. As they reached the barricade, Andrew climbed over it and then helped her to the car.

As soon as they reached the car, Christina pulled the key from her pocket and started to open the door. "Let me, your foot is hurt, and you shouldn’t be driving," Andrew offered and she nodded and crawled across the seat so that she was seated in the passenger side of the car. Glancing over, she watched as he slid behind the wheel, all the while, not saying a word. Once Andrew had closed the door, he started the motor and drove back out onto the street.

"What were you doing back there all by yourself, Andrew?" She asked softly, her voice suddenly breaking the silence.

The angel shook his head, but no words emerged.

"A-Adam was worried about you, you know," she whispered. "I suppose that his concerns are somewhat catching. When I saw you back there, I got so scared. I thought that maybe it was a mistake, me coming to help you. I wondered if God had erred, if maybe He should have sent you Tess, or Sam or someone else. I didn't think it was even possible for Him to have wanted me to help you."

"Christina, I…" Andrew started to speak, but the words died on his lips and he shook his head sadly.

"It's OK, I'm not angry with you, I know that you have been through something traumatic, and I want you to know that I'm here for you," she said softly. "Do you want to stop somewhere before we go back to the house?"

Andrew looked down at his clothing. "Christina, do you know what happened?"

"Adam said that you had lost hope, he said that something happened and you walked away from your job," she whispered.

"Yes, I quit," he said softly. "Sort of like what happened a few years ago, but now…now I don't know if I could ever go back," his voice trailed and he looked at her despondently. "I-I just can't take anymore."

The woman nodded, but instead of continuing to drive back towards town, she watched as he pulled into a parking lot and cut the motor.

When he said nothing, she simply looked at him, all the while trying to take in his appearance. It was no secret; the Angel of Death had definitely seen better days. His off white shirt was hanging loosely from his slumped shoulders and at the bottom of the shirt near the hem, she could see ground in dirt as well as a small hole which she guessed was from the twigs and branches in the valley where she had found him. The shirt itself looked to be moist with perspiration and dirt and it was not even tucked into his beige pants. She reached over and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Andrew, I'm sorry this all happened to you," she whispered as she continued to take in his appearance. "I know that I'm probably not the best person to tell you anything, that all of the realizations about it must come from you. Yet, you know that you're not alone in all of this, don't you?"

He shook his head sorrowfully, but at that moment, his collar length hair was hanging in clumps down over his shoulders and his green eyes were void of emotion. They were filled with so much pain that she could only conclude that what had happened to him recently could not even compare to what had happened in the wake of the Southside school shooting over twelve years ago. This new sense of pain and anguish was unspeakable and Christina wondered how on earth she would even be able to bring Andrew and Melanie into the same place without it emotionally devastating either of them.

Instead of speaking about this extensively, she looked at him, her eyes filled with empathy. "Andrew, I know about the sexual abuse case, my boss came to me today and he gave me a promotion. At the end of the month, he'll retire, and I'll be taking the service. For better or for worse, I'll be holding everything, and one of the things I will have to hold is a terrible situation for a little girl named Melanie Christianson."

"Melanie?" Andrew looked at her through the tears that were in his eyes. He looked at Christina as though expecting her to be joking, but when he saw the sadness in her eyes, he knew beyond any doubt that she was being completely serious.

"You know her, don't you? She's the reason you were out here?" Christina asked and Andrew nodded numbly. "When Peter told me about what had happened; the only person I had wanted to have here for all of us, was you, but now as I look at you and I know that maybe I should be here for you, but I honestly don't know how. I mean; it's been four years since you saw me, Andrew, and the truth is, it hurts me so much to see you this way, and I don't really know how much I could do to help."

Andrew looked at her. "Forgive me?"

She nodded. "I do, but, I will tell you that the last four years have been very hard for all of us, but God willing, we have survived. I know that you and your friends are a part of that, but don't you see? I could never go back to Heaven and find healing from God the way you can, but somehow, I always knew that He would be there to help you, Andrew."

The human angel looked at her, his eyes filed with sadness. "The horrors I have seen," he whispered.

Christina nodded as she wrapped her arm around him. "Maybe having the chance to be with God makes up for that," she whispered as she felt the tears streaming down her face. "You know, I got promoted today, it was as if someone was saying 'Christina, you've done wonderful work, you have helped children when they needed you'. But, then I opened that file and I thought my heart was going to break into thousands of tiny pieces. I remembered Laura, and how we found her at the park, how I had to work so that she would trust me, and how the nightmares seemed to encompass her even after she had come to live with me." As she spoke the tears streamed from beneath her eyes. "I have raised four children, one of whom is dead, but this didn't stop me from living, and you're part of the reason that I made it. Now, I desperately need your strength again, I need your love and understanding to help me try and help a little girl who has only lived a life filled with unspeakable humiliation, sadness, and tragedy. Andrew, please tell me what I should do."

The unhappy angel shook his head, but instead of pushing her away he reached over and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I-I don't know."

"Then maybe you can help me find out," she looked at him. "If I help her, maybe I can help you, too."

Andrew looked at her, his eyes misting over as he regarded her. "You really care for this child, don't you?"

Christina nodded. "I can't even begin to imagine the pain she's in, but I do feel for her. Her grandmother wants to send her to an institution and that scares me more than anything else in the world. I have not been this affected by my work since Ted Gordon died. Oh God, what if I can't help her? She's traumatized to such a degree that I can't fathom the idea of what would happen if I fail?"

Andrew shook his head. "I don't know if I can convince you that you won't, but Christina, you won't. You have helped so many people, and you helped me, too. Your friendship and caring is one of the greatest treasures about you."

She looked down at her lap and shook her head sadly. "I should be happy about the promotion, but right now, I'm consumed with so much sadness."

Andrew wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly in his embrace, but in his arms she knew instinctively that he was feeling as weak and powerless as she was.

As their embrace loosened, she looked up at him upon getting whiff of the odor reeking from his clothing. "I think I should get you something new to put on," she said softly as she looked up and could see that they were in a parking lot for a local clothing store. She looked at him. "Let's go get you some things, I mean; you really look terrible."

Andrew shook his head, but no words emerged, but she could tell what it was that he wanted to tell her, that he felt terrible. Instead of speaking, he took a deep breath.

"Why won't you talk to me?" She finally whispered when the silence seemed to literally engulf her.

Andrew shook his head, his eyes now on his lap and Christina smiled weakly as though she understood more about what was going on with him than he even realized.

*****

A few hours later, but that same evening, Jeremy Lowery came home from work to see that his adopted 18-year-old twin daughters were waiting for him. Denise and Dawn were both in their last semester of high school and he couldn't be more proud of them. Denise had joined the choir and was one of the best singers in the soprano section, and her sister Dawn had followed her brother's footsteps and joined the school's art club.

Now as the spring semester was starting to draw to a close, the twins were really getting excited about their senior prom and as Jeremy came inside, he could see that they had once again started going through magazines, both girls insistent about picking the most perfect dress for the most wonderful night of their lives.

"Hello girls," Jeremy said smiling at the two of them as he dropped his jacket on the back of the sofa and had received a backbreaking hug from both girls. "Did you two join the wrestling team or what?" He asked jokingly as he ruffled the matching red curly locks that hung down over the shoulders of both girls. "You just about knocked me off my feet."

Denise smiled weakly as Dawn laughed out loud. "Dad, you have to come and see the dress I picked out for the prom."

Dawn, unlike her sister had started calling Jeremy 'Dad' a few years ago, and although they both knew that Dawn and Denise had both adored their birth father, they had grown to love Jeremy as though he was their 'stand-in' father. Denise was still hesitant about calling him 'Dad' so Jeremy suggested that she just call him 'JC', which was his first and middle initials, Jeremy Charles.

"Are you two going to dress alike and confuse your dates?" Jeremy asked, and Denise scowled at him.

"I don't have a date, only Dawn does," Denise whispered.

"Well, there are three or four weeks left till then, so maybe if some of those guys know what's good for them, they'll ask you," he said with a good humored smile on his face.

Denise shrugged her shoulders. "Thanks JC, you're awesome. But, I don't think there's a guy around who would want to ask me."

"I don't believe that, you're the prettiest girl in the school, what guy wouldn't give his right eye to have you with him?" Jeremy smiled at her, his eyes twinkling merrily, but when she didn't return the gesture, he looked at her. "Denise, is something wrong?"

The teenager smiled weakly, "I'm fine, just thinking about stuff."

"OK, so to get your mind off those things, let's have a look at these pictures," he said softly trying to ignore the sadness in Denise's voice. He squeezed her shoulder gently as Dawn pulled out a magazine and opened it. A fire engine red taffeta gown was on the page, the price 1,200 dollars was underneath it and Jeremy grimaced. "OK, there's only one thing I don't like about it."

"What, is the cut too low?" Dawn asked smirking at him. "Should I get a potato sack and cut arm holes in it?"

"No, the cut is not too low, the price is too high," Jeremy smiled impishly and the two girls began to giggle. "I'll tell you what, get some ideas in these magazines, and then this weekend we can go dress shopping and see about getting something that doesn't make my wallet start screaming for mercy."

Denise smiled at him as she reached over and pulled a second magazine off the stack. This one was lying open and she held it up and showed it to Jeremy. The dress she selected was a little less elegant than Dawn's selection, it was navy blue in color, went down to the calves, was made out of taffeta, and was covered with lace. "I would rather have this in white," she explained, "but I really liked this style, it looks like something Monica would wear and I think white is really nice anyway."

Dawn shrugged and looked at her sister wickedly. "So you're the angel and I'm the devil?" She offered Jeremy a toothy grin, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Yes, devilishly cute, you mean;" Jeremy smiled as the phone rang and Dawn snatched it up.

"Lowery residence, this is Dawn speaking," She said into the receiver, but her smile disappeared when she handed the phone to her father. "It's for you," she grumbled as she pushed the object into his hands.

"Well thank you, madam secretary," Jeremy chided her gently as he took the phone and held it up to his ear. Once Jeremy had started speaking to the caller, Denise and Dawn began to collect their magazines and Denise looked at her sister. "Who were you expecting to call, the terribly desirable 'Adam Joshua', our cousin that looks like God's gift to men?"

"Hey now, wait a minute, he's not really our cousin, we're adopted, you dork, remember? Besides, Adam is just a guy like all the others, but he's also as cute as his namesake," Dawn said defensively all the while snickering.

"His namesake is older than dirt, if you haven't forgotten," Denise said. "Besides, from the way you're talking about him, it sounds utterly creepy to me, I mean, AJ is like twenty or something, and he's not even in our class," Denise said as she shrugged her shoulders.

"You're just jealous because you don't have a date yet," Dawn snapped, this discussion starting to get on her nerves and she was starting to get aggravated with her sister's bad mood as well as her attitude.

"Hey ladies, if you don't mind, would you mind taking this discussion upstairs, I can hardly hear anything here and this is kind of important?" Jeremy looked up and Denise walked towards the stairs, her eyes filled with sadness.

For her part, Dawn sat down on the sofa, her arms crossing in front of her and she sighed deeply as she waited for Jeremy to get off the phone. Once he did, she looked up.

"Sorry, Dad," she whispered.

"No reason for that, is something wrong?" He asked.

She shook her head. "It's not me, it's Denise, she's acting like the spawn of Satan lately."

"Excuse me?" He looked at her intently. "Did I hear you right?"

Dawn looked at him. "It's just a saying, do you honestly think an angel will walk through that door this evening and give me a talking to about my choice of wording?"

Jeremy sighed but looked at her. "OK, then if Denise won't talk to me, why don't you tell me what you know, and maybe between us we can figure all this out?"

"I don't really know, I mean; I don't think she really cares about getting a date, but I think she's being really defensive about something else. She's been that way for a few weeks now, I guess since we started looking at dresses. There's something going on with her, but every time I try to talk about it to her, she cops an attitude and walks away with her nose in the air. I don't know what to do. I mean; if you go and tell her that we talked, she's going to hate me for the rest of my life, but if you don't, then I'm thoroughly convinced that I will go out of my mind, and that's what really scares me."

Jeremy shook his head sadly. "Sometimes when girl is no longer a girl, she has a hard time dealing with things like this. I know that you and Denise have it hard right now, probably because your mom isn't here with you to help pick out these dresses and things, and somewhere in there, is a little bit of sadness in doing that. But, you know, honey, your mom is still with you, she always will be."

"Why doesn't Christina help us?" Dawn asked weakly, using her adopted mother's name instead of calling her 'Mom' as she was accustomed to doing.

"My guess is because she had a bad experience at a prom, she was raped, honey, and that night she nearly died. She went through so much heartache, and had Andrew not been there…" Jeremy said gently, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her and ruffled her hair. "For some people, the prom does not spark images of joy and happiness, sometimes, it can be downright terrifying. But, don't worry, I think Christina does know that this prom is a very exciting time for you and your sister."

"Yeah, but if it's hard for her, then I don't want to contribute to that," Dawn objected.

"That's sweet honey, but she alone must deal with the memories she has of it and I am certain that in time, she will be ready to help you and Denise get ready for this night. One of the nice things for her is that she is relieved because at least she knows your date," Jeremy said smiling.

"Does it seem weird to you, I mean, AJ is like our cousin?" Dawn asked.

"No, AJ is a nice guy, Dawn, and he won't treat you badly, because I know where he lives," Jeremy's eyes crossed and she giggled. "Listen, if I was really your dad, and Christina was really your mom, you would be totally disgusted about going out on a date with him, but like I told you some years ago, no one, not even me or Christina can replace your real mom and dad, and we don't want to. We told Patrick and the two of you that as long as you need us, we'll be there for you, no questions asked, but your last name is still Wallace, and a family name, is a part of what links you to that family. So, if people tell you that dating AJ is weird, then you tell them that your name is Dawn Wallace and that they should not judge you."

"Thanks," she smiled weakly. "But, what's going to happen to Denise, she seems so unhappy lately?"

"I don't know what will happen to her, maybe in time we'll find out, but until then, keep your chin up, we'll get through this together," Jeremy said softly as the front door opened and Christina and Andrew came inside. Upon turning around and seeing the disheveled state of the angel, Jeremy stood up and regarded the angel with a mixture of shock and bewilderment shadowing his face. "Andrew, what on earth happened to you?"

"Jeremy, do you remember what's been happening here in town with the Internet ring that was busted last week?" Christina asked softly.

"How can I forget, it's the biggest topic at the precinct since the Yankees won the 'World Series'?" He asked and looked at Andrew. "Uh, I take it you've had your fill of it too?" Once the angel nodded, Jeremy turned to his adopted daughter. "Dawn, why don't you take Andrew upstairs, get him some towels, and let him get cleaned up a bit?"

The teenager nodded as she got to her feet and went over to the angel. When she reached where he was standing, she looked up at him. "What happened, Andrew?" She asked weakly.

Christina covered her lip with one of her fingers and Dawn nodded as she reached for Andrew's hand. "Go on, Andrew, it will do you some good. Here's the stuff we found for you so you won't be stealing all of Jeremy's clothing."

Jeremy laughed, his eyes dancing merrily as the couple watched the teenager lead the angel from the room. Once they disappeared up the stairs, Jeremy looked at her. "What happened? Something tells me that I'm not going to like this one bit."

Christina shook her head. "It's terrible, Jeremy, but I think I'd better start at the beginning. Can we sit down, my foot hurts?"

"Your foot?"

"It was just an accident, can we sit down?"

He nodded and once they had seated themselves in the living room, Jeremy looked at his wife and waited for her to begin speaking.

"Adam showed up at the office today, and he told me that Andrew had quit his job," Christina said softly. "I went to find him, that's why I'm so late getting home and I twisted my ankle down at Junction Ridge when I went to find him. He was walking listlessly around and for a while I didn't know if I could get through to him. He said that it was dangerous being his friend. Then he told me to go away, and it hurt more than this, simply because I could see something deeper in him. There was so much pain in him. Oh Jeremy, what am I going to do?"

"I don't understand, is this about Andrew or you?" Jeremy asked gently.

"He pushed me away," Christina began to openly cry. "I know he didn't mean to, but it hurt."

"Shhh," Jeremy soothed gently. "You and Andrew have been through everything and then some together. Your friendship is very strong, and maybe he came with you here because he knew it and maybe he realized that you were the strength he needed."

"No, I'm not, only God is strength," she whispered. "At the office, after I got a new case, I was thinking about him, but I didn't fully realize that it's really been hard for him. I don't know how many times he's been sent to children who have been abused, but it must be so hard for him sometimes. My God, so many times I've wanted to quit my job, I've wanted to walk away because I can't carry the load. Why can't I?"

"You're only human honey," Jeremy said softly. "Yet, something tells me that you were given the Christianson case, huh?"

"H-how did you know?" Christina asked as she nodded.

"They told me at work last week that your office was going to take the case and I saw Peter Harris at the precinct house last weekend. I was going to tell you, but I guess I forgot because I got busy and it slipped my mind."

Christina nodded numbly. "Melanie will start counseling with me tomorrow, Jeremy. I'm so scared that I'm going to fail her. I kept thinking about Ted Gordan all afternoon, I thought I was going mad." As she spoke, she could feel the tears as they continued to stream from beneath her eyes as she remembered this time when she had felt more uncertain about herself than ever before.

Christina's Flashback

It happened that she had been counseling a young boy named Ted for almost two months. He had been in and out of depression since he started therapy; the stress from school appeared to be getting the better of him. He was shy, often alone, and considered to be one of the smartest kids in school, but something was missing in his life, and his suicidal tendencies was what brought him and his worried parents to Christina. Now, the situation with him was quickly getting out of control.

Christina knew from the start that he was suicidal just from looking at him. He often talked about death in his sessions with her, dwelling on what happens after a person died. For this reason, she conveniently avoided mentioning her friend, Andrew. He was, after all, an Angel of Death and anything she could have said that would make death seem beautiful, would be the wrong thing to do in this situation.

Instead, every single time she talked with Ted, she tried with all her strength to tell him that suicide was a cop out; that it would be a mistake, and the pain he would leave with his parents and friends would be unbearable. Today's session left her more afraid than worried, because somehow she could almost sense that the boy had reached the breaking point. He had screamed at her, saying that she was a quack, hurling hurtful and spiteful words at her before he had stormed out of the session.

In the past five years since she started working as an intern for a Child Psychologist and obtained her practice, she had never seen a more hopeless case than that of Ted Gordon. In addition, she had never in her life felt so hopeless and unsuccessful at her work as she did at that moment. She had always been able to help the kids, from the time she had started this work, up until this point, but now she was feeling completely incompetent with this and started questioning whether this was actually part of the plan that God had for her life.

She knew the 13-year-old boy was depressed, but when he had lost his temper with her, all she could do watch as he left, close his file, and just go home. His parents, both of whom worked, seemed to be completely unable to help him, and this made her angry, but at the same time, she could truly understand their need to work. Both had been stigmatized by society as being people who did not wish to work because both their families had been poor, and had lived off the state's welfare system. Christina knew that Ted's parents were determined to overcome these stigmatisms, and she held a great deal of respect for them in that regard, but the question about their son's well being continued to loom in the air.

The hardest part of the entire story was that both Valerie and Chris Gordon trusted her completely with regards to their son. Now, she was not certain if this was such a good thing, as it left the burden of responsibility firmly on her shoulders.

As she was getting into her car, she sighed deeply not knowing what she could do besides pray that God would watch over all of them, and hope that that night she would actually be able to sleep. For the last weeks, she had been unable to sleep because of her worries regarding this case. It was no secret, she was scared for Ted, and for some reason; she could not shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

During the past weeks, Ted's situation had progressively gotten worse, the conversations with him had gotten more strained, the boy becoming more aloof and resentful. She was worried, and even though she knew professionally, she should not get personally involved in it. In some ways, she knew that she already was.

She thought almost constantly about calling her boyfriend, Jeremy, and asking him what he thought she should do. She quickly dismissed this because as a psychologist, she believed wholeheartedly in the confidentiality of her patients. The burden would have to remain on her shoulders for the time being.

Besides that, during the last days, Jeremy had been sent out of town for some kind of police sketch artist convention. He had called her the night before telling her he missed her, and wanted to meet her when he came back. He had said there was a surprise when he came back, but even after talking extensively with his sister, Paula, she still had no clue about what he was cooking up. Knowing him, it could be anything.

Thinking about Jeremy at least made her smile. She had met him under some rather strange circumstances, but she was really truly in love with him. He was kindhearted, compassionate, but also had a mischievous streak that she truly loved. Whenever she thought about him, she was completely happy.

Her thoughts returned to Ted as a strange sensation overcame her once again. Sighing deeply, she turned on the radio and allowed the soft swells of music to encompass her. She absolutely refused to make the boy into some kind of sideshow freak, so she kept those disturbing thoughts she had about him to herself. She did pray for him often though.

Christina's Flashback End

Jeremy wrapped his wife in his arms. "I know this whole situation with the Gordon case hurt you, especially after Ted had gone through with it. But, what makes you so sure that you're going to fail Melanie? You have been an experienced child psychologist for years now. Why would a case from early on start to haunt you now?"

She shook her head sadly as even more tears tumbled down over her cheeks. "I don't know why. Maybe if I did then this wouldn't be so damn difficult for me to deal with. Yet, after I had spoken to Adam, this whole nightmare started playing back in my mind, I started remembering things that had happened back when, and I started feeling as though I was losing it. Back then, Andrew was there with me, and he helped me to understand what was going on, but now, after seeing him, and seeing what he was going through, I knew that I was on my own, and I'm scared."

"You only believe that because Andrew has been noticeably weakened by all of this. Is that why, for some reason, you don't believe that you'll get through this?" He asked.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I mean, there's so much riding on this now, and if I can't go into that room tomorrow morning and full of confidence then what am I doing? Why am I the one who has to try and reach this child? Jeremy, she's been damaged beyond recognition, and now I have to pick up the pieces for her, and I'm afraid I'm going to drop one…" her voice trailed and she buried her face against the cotton shirt her husband wore.

Jeremy rubbed his hand gently through her hair. "You'll help her, honey, I know you will. I wish I could give you some of the confidence back, that same faith that I have always had in you."

Christina smiled weakly as she rested comfortably in his arms. As she felt his hold on her tighten, she looked up at him, and kissed him. "I love you, Jeremy, have I told you that lately?"

"I think the last time you told me was this morning before you left for work, but I always like to be reminded of it." He ruffled her hair as he brushed the tears gently from her face. "Do you have anything else to tell me? I know that look."

"Well," she smiled weakly. "I did get that promotion I had been praying for."

"Like I had any doubts," he smiled gently as he tapped her nose with his fingertip.

*****

Upstairs, Dawn was pulling towels from the hall closet and handed two large bath towels to Andrew. "I hope this will help," she offered, but when he didn't respond, she looked up at him. "Andrew, can I ask you something?"

The human angel nodded numbly, but she could tell that he was not up to answering any sorts of questions.

"Are you sure you're OK? It scares me to see you like this. I mean…" her voice trailed off and she looked at him somewhat hesitantly.

"I'm OK," he whispered his voice filled with sadness, but the words emerged unconvincingly.

Dawn shook her head as she handed him two towels and a washcloth. "I get it, you don't want to talk to me." She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess you and Denise have something in common because she won't talk to me either."

With that, she turned and slowly walked away, thus leaving him alone. He watched as she disappeared inside her room and once she had closed the door, he could do nothing except shrug his shoulders and walk with weighted steps into the bathroom.

After he had showered and gotten changed, he emerged from the bathroom nearly stumbling over Denise as he came out of the small room. "Dawn?" He spoke, his voice barely above a whisper and he guessed that she either was heading downstairs or needed in the bathroom.

The girl sighed deeply, the obvious sadness literally encasing her when she realized that he had mistaken her for her sister. Her gaze remained on the ground rather than looking up, she mumbled, her voice barely audible, but he could make out her words. "No, Andrew, I'm Denise."

"I'm sorry, Denise, I guess I must be tired or something, normally I don't mistake you and Dawn," he whispered.

"It's OK, I'm sort of used to being overlooked these days." she said sadly. "Dawn is the one who gets the dates, and stuff, I'm just the tagalong."

"You know I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, Denise," he said softly as he took a deep breath, his hands he stuffed dejectedly in his pockets.

The teenager took a deep breath and looked at him. "I should be happy to see you, but it doesn't look as though you're all that happy to see me."

"Of course I'm happy to see you, Denise," he said softly. "It's just that there has been so much happening these past days that I just haven't been myself lately."

"You too?" She asked.

"Yes, me too," he smiled weakly, but when he saw her eyes, he could see some hidden pain in her. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

"No, you've got too much on your mind to listen to me, just forget it," she offered sourly.

"Do you know where Christina and Jeremy are?" He asked, trying to change the subject with her, but keeping his voice on a friendly level.

"They're still downstairs," she whispered, but looked up at him and instead of focusing on her own troubles, she could clearly see that something was bothering him. "Andrew, is something the matter? You don't look like yourself."

He shook his head but spoke, all the while trying to show her that he was stronger than he truly felt. "I'm fine, Denise," he offered weakly, but she knew that he wasn't speaking the truth because when she glanced up at him, she realized that his gaze was everywhere except on her.

"I get it, you don't want to talk to me either, do you?" she whispered. "Dawn came into my room while you were in the shower, and she said that you were acting weird, but I didn't believe her. I guess now I have no other choice." She started to walk away, but he reached out and touched her arm, this causing her to stop and turn around.

"I can't tell you about this, Denise, simply because it's so terrible that I don't think it would be the best thing for me to do," he said softly, his voice the epitome of defeat.

The teenager nodded. "Did you tell Christina?"

He nodded. "Yes, but not everything."

The young girl nodded as though she understood, but she was afraid, and she didn't know why. She eventually found the courage to look up at him. "Andrew?"

The human angel smiled weakly at her. "What is it?"

Denise shook her head. "Dawn said you quit," she whispered as a few stray tears trickled down over her cheeks.

He nodded. "I can't go back, Denise, I have been an Angel of Death for a long time, but right now, I am at a loss about how much good I am doing."

"But you are," she said softly. "Andrew…" Her voice trailed off and she looked away. "I know it sounds selfish, but I really kept hoping that you would come back, that you would help make things better."

Andrew shook his head sorrowfully. "I don't know how I could," the words emerged before he could stop them and he stood there watching, as the color seemed to fade from her already pale cheeks.

"But you did, so many times, too," Denise whispered as she tried to wipe the tears from beneath her eyes.

"I can't go back, Denise, something terrible has happened, something that I wish I could talk about, but right now, I just know deep inside that I cannot," he objected and looked down at her.

"I'm not a little kid anymore, Andrew," she said softly, but her voice was full of indignant undertones.

"I know you're not, honey, and this really has nothing to do with your level of maturity. The truth is, I'm just not ready to talk about it yet," Andrew said sadly.

After a few moments of silence had passed between them, she sighed deeply as she shook her head and her abrupt words emerged. "Andrew, you have to go back to your job." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with hidden pain. "Please."

"Denise, you don't understand," he whispered.

The teenager nodded as she looked up at him, a new sense of determination somehow overwhelming her. "I understand perfectly, you're being selfish, you aren't thinking about the fact that there is someone who needs you, and time is running out."

"What are you saying?" He asked softly.

"This isn't about me, Andrew, and it's not about my family, it's about my best friend, Jo Peterson."

"Jo?" Andrew looked at her all the while remembering the young girl in the wheelchair that he had met the last time he had come to this town. He remembered how he and his friends had not only helped her, but how they had helped Jennifer, Jo's mother as well as her little sister, Katie. Sighing deeply, Andrew looked at Denise, they both knew that Jo was terminally ill, but he did not know how much time she had, or what he could possibly have to do with this particular situation. "What happened?"

Denise shook her head sorrowfully as she looked down at the ground. After a few moments, she looked up at him. "Jo was rushed to the hospital two days ago, I was at the community center when it happened and Laura and me had to call 911." She looked at the angel, her eyes a depiction of sadness. "Jo always said that you had promised to be there for her when she needed you, and now she does," As she spoke, the tears streamed down over her face as her last words emerged. "Andrew, Jo's going to die."

"Is that why you've been so sad?" He asked softly.

Denise nodded numbly. "It's not about the prom, it has nothing to do with the prom. I don't even care if I go to the prom, or if I have a date for it, but…" her voice trailed and she looked up at him. "You made a promise to her, she told me about it when I went to see her yesterday, and she made me swear that if I saw you, that I would tell you if you didn't already know about this. The truth is; I haven't stopped praying for you to come back since we talked, and then seeing you again, I knew that my prayer had finally been answered."

Andrew looked at her. "Denise, I…"

"What?"

"I can't do anything, God made me human," he whispered.

"You can't or won't?" Denise looked at him, her expression changing and now she regarded him with anger.

Andrew looked at the girl, his eyes filled with sadness. "I left, Denise," he whispered as he started to walk towards the guest room, but Denise followed him into the room and once they were inside, she went over and sat down on the bed. Once she was comfortable, she looked up and waited for him to come over and sit down next to her.

When he did not move, but rather, remained standing, she looked up at him, her eyes a depiction of sadness. "Andrew, please go back, you have to, think about the promise you made to Jo," she whispered softly, her voice trembling with lost hope.

The human angel sat down on the bed next to her and reached for her hands. "You're so much like Christina and Laura, you care so much and I don't want to hurt you."

"Laura told me that you and Christina have been through a lot together, but so have we, I mean, Dawn and me," Denise said softly.

Andrew looked at Denise. "Do you remember when you were just a little girl and we were sitting outside looking at the stars?"

"Yeah, it was really nice sitting with you. I will never forget that you held me in your arms and told me that God loves me and that when I cry, He cries with me." As she spoke, she could feel the tears in her eyes. "You said that I am His child and that I would always be His little girl."

"Yes," Andrew smiled weakly. "I remember."

"It meant a lot to me," Denise said softly as she looked at him. "But, there are a lot of people who don't believe that, and they need you to tell them, and as long as you're caught up in your own troubles, there is no way for you to help people like Jo, and she really does need your help, Andrew. She doesn't even have to tell me so, but I know that she is so scared."

With that she got up and walked slowly out of the room, the door closing firmly behind her. Andrew sighed deeply and nodded, his eyes downcast. He realized at that moment, he could not even think or pray, all he could do was sit and stare at the floor, his eyes filled with unbelievable sadness.

Moments seemed to crawl by in slow motion when he suddenly was able to sense another presence there with him in the room. He looked up, thinking that Christina had come into the room to tell him that dinner was ready, but when he made eye contact with whom it was now standing next to the bed, he had to swallow the lump that had suddenly lodged itself in his throat as his one word emerged. "Father?"

The Creator of the Universe nodded and reached over and touched His angel's shoulder. As He sat down next to where Andrew was now sitting the Father knew that the sadness and regret were literally engulfing the angel. "Denise is right, there is a child here who needs you, My angel, not just Melanie Christianson but another child whom you have professed to be a friend with, and that is Josephine Peterson."

Andrew shook his head. "Father, I…" His words trailed off and he looked into the eyes of his Father. "It's too much."

"I know it is Andrew," the Father responded, "but I have a plan, and I hope that you will trust in that plan. You have in the past, you have believed Me whenever I would tell you what it is you need to do."

As the Father spoke, the door swung open and Christina came into the room. She stood in the doorway, a bottle of water in her hand, but when she saw everything that was taking place in front of her, she allowed the bottle to slide from her hand and thump against the floor. "A-Andrew, w-what's happening?" She whispered as she tried to retrieve the bottle, close the door and find a seat in order to sit down at what appeared to be all at the same instant.

As she once again managed to get to her feet, she slowly walked over to where the angel and his Master were seated. Finding her voice once again, she managed repeat her inquiry, but when no answer emerged from the angel, she turned and began to address the Father, her voice weak, but also demanding. "W-who are you and what are you doing in my house?"

The Father looked into the eyes of the woman and smiled. "I Am Andrew's Father, Christina."

Instead of speaking, she looked at Andrew who nodded and she, as if by impulse, sank to her knees and looked up at them shaking her head as though in denial of what had transpired. "I" Was all that she was able to say, but all the while she was still uncertain if her utterance had emerged loud enough for them to hear her.

The Father looked at Andrew and then came over to where Christina was on the ground. He stooped down, took her hands, and in one fluid motion, pulled her gently to her feet. "It is good that you have come, Christina," He said softly.

"Y-you're really God, the Father, oh my," she managed immediately regretting the words that emerged as though she was cast in 'The Wizard of Oz'. Eventually, she managed to look into His eyes. Eventually, her voice emerged once again, her words literally rushing out and she was not certain anymore if she even wanted to remain in this room. "I-I mean; I think Jeremy just called, and I really should go and see what he wants."

Andrew looked at his friend. "Christina, Jeremy didn't call you and you know it."

She looked at the angel. "I think you know that I'm so scared right now."

"He won't hurt you," Andrew said softly.

Christina took a deep breath. "I-I guess I should know that, but Andrew…" Her words failed her as she shook her head with disbelief, but sat down in the far corner of the room. "W-why are You here?"

The Father smiled as He came over to where Christina was sitting and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You have nothing to be afraid of, My child."

She nodded slowly. "Why do You pick now to show up?"

"There are people in your life as well as My angel who need both of you, and without one member of this special team, we have no chance of reaching the child who needs the most help," the Father said gently.

Christina looked at Him. "Y-You mean, Melanie Christianson?"

The Creator nodded. "Yes." He looked at Andrew, who was still regarding everything that was happening and He went over to the angel. "You are hurting, aren't you, Andrew?" He asked softly.

Andrew looked up at his Father with trembling lips and nodded.

"I sent you to that child for a reason, and right now, I'm going to help you help her," the Father said gently as He wrapped His healing arms around Andrew and Christina watched as Andrew collapsed in his Father's embrace and began to weep softly. As Andrew found healing in the arms of his Father, Christina took a deep breath before getting to her feet and hesitantly approaching them.

Once she reached them, she felt the Father's hand taking her own and pulling her into the embrace.

In the arms of her Creator and Andrew, she glanced up and spoke. "How can we help her?" Without thinking further, she spoke, her honest words filled with despondency. "Father, I'm so scared that I'm going to fail and I know that there is so much riding on this. I just can't get what happened with Ted Gordon out of my mind. I was driving home today and all I kept thinking about was him, even though this happened more than twenty years ago. Why is all this coming back to me?"

"I know, you're hurting, My child," the Father said softly. "Christina, in order for you and Andrew to help Melanie, you have to release the past. Give it to Me, and I will take care of that for you." His eyes were intent. "Melanie is a very frightened child and she will need all the confidence and understanding that you and Andrew can offer her."

"Why can't You go to her?" Christina asked softly. "I mean; You have a stronger impact than any of us and from what I understand, You're the only One who could help her find some semblance of peace."

"I will go to her in time, My child, but I want you and Andrew to help her find trust. She will need you to become the human contact, Christina, you are the chosen one to help her from the human perspective, and Andrew will be her angel. It has already been decided," came the gentle answer.

"Father, how can I get this child to trust me?" Andrew asked. "Christina said that she will not trust men, and my human form is a man."

"Yes, that is true, My angel, but she will need to find that trust or else she will have to come Home," the Father said gently.

Christina looked at Him. "You certainly know how to put on the pressure," she whispered sadly, her words still filled with her own mounting insecurity.

The Father chuckled, but smiled and nodded at her before disappearing.

She looked at Andrew. "H-He's gone."

"Not totally," Andrew said softly. "He's still with us, we just can't see Him."

The woman nodded as understanding overwhelmed her. "Do you feel any better, Andrew? Are you going be able to go back to your job?"

Andrew nodded and smiled weakly. "Yes, I have two assignments here, Melanie will have to work with both of us, Christina, but the one that I must work with is Jo Peterson." He took a deep breath. "Denise's concern for her friend holds relevance, because Jo is dying and she doesn't have much time left."

"Do you know how much time she has?" Christina asked softly.

The Angel of Death shook his head. "I don't know." He took a deep breath as he looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. "Christina, will you forgive me?"

"For what?" She asked.

The angel took a deep breath. "I pushed you away, and I know that I shouldn't have."

"Oh Andrew, I was never angry with you, I was hurt and confused, but I'm over that now," she smiled weakly as she wrapped her arms around him. "It would take a lot more than that to make me angry with you, besides we have had hard times before this and survived. You know, a real friendship takes the bumps in the road like it does with everything else."

The angel smiled as he looked at her, he could see that she was contemplating what had just happened, that God had been in her house in a physical sense and she was completely blown away by it. "Are you OK?" He eventually asked.

"God gave me an assignment, Andrew," she whispered. "I mean; now if I fail, I won't have just failed myself, I would have failed Him and I don't know if I can handle having done that."

Andrew smiled gently at his friend. "Christina, it should strengthen you to know that God is here, not weaken you." He touched the side of her face with his hand. "He knows that you're human, He made you and there is no way that you will ever be a disappointment to Him."

She nodded. "It's going to be hard, Melanie has been severely physically and sexually abused, but I know I have to try and now this has become even more severe than what I read about in a file, or heard about through Peter."

Andrew nodded as he stood up and started to walk towards the door. "You'll do fine, I have the utmost faith in you."

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"I need to talk to Denise, and apologize to her," Andrew said. "Do I still have a place to stay here?"

Christina smiled and nodded. "You always do, Andrew."

Once he had left the room she smiled and nodded all the while wondering if she should tell Jeremy about the Father's unexpected visit. After a few minutes she nodded realizing that the one person she needed to tell this to was her eldest daughter, Laura.

*****

At that moment, Denise was sprawled out on her bed. She had a few evening gown patterns on the bed, but she did not seem to care anymore. She was now staring outside the window. She had yet to close the blinds but seemed almost captivated by the dim glow of the outside street lamps that seemed to wind their way down the street, offering the small neighborhood a secure blanket of white light.

The lights cast an almost eerie glow through the front yard of her home, but as she sat there, she realized that she could not get the conversation with Andrew out of her mind, how lost he had looked, and yet she could not deny that there was something akin in his stance and in her own.

She glanced towards the window once again and then back down at the pattern across the comforter of her bed. She could not help but remember what had happened with Jo and how strong her friend had been, especially during the past few months. Glancing skyward, she started to speak, her anger directed at God. "You're going to take everyone away that I have ever loved, first my parents, then Patrick, and now my best friend." She whispered, her angry voice literally cutting the silence like a knife. "I hate You!"

As the words died on her lips, she could feel the tears streaming from beneath her eyes, all the while she could not stop remembering what had happened when Jo had collapsed at the community center. The teenage girl in the wheelchair had been volunteering there and was actively working on programs to help abused children.

Denise remembered how often she had wanted to meet with Jo and go to the mall after school to hang out, but Jo seemed to be more interested in doing this volunteer work, thus leaving Denise to feel completely out of the loop. Eventually, feeling as though she had not other options, Denise had gotten involved in this as well and now felt a better person for having done so even though she thought that initially she was doing it for the wrong reasons.

She crawled off the bed and went over to the mirror and could see a photograph of her and Jo from last Halloween. She and Jo had dressed up and hosted a Halloween carnival at the school. Half of the money that had been raised had been used to help finance a new computer lab for the school, but the other half had been donated to the child abuse prevention network there in town. It had been her and Jo's shining moment, but because of Jo's handicap, the media made her out to be the local hero, and Denise was starting to feel less and less important.

Nothing that had happened had been because if her, it was because Jo had worked so hard to get this going, she had spoken to the local PTA as well as community and civic leaders. It was through her hard work that she had been successful increasing community awareness of this problem.

One question, however, remained in Denise's conscious and that was, why did Jo suddenly want to start this project? Even after all the media attention, it was still not yet clear why it was that Jo had suddenly dropped everything and plunged herself into this issue.

Denise could clearly understand why it was that Laura was involved; after all, Laura had been abused as a little girl by her birth parents. Yet, through it all, Jo had never been abused, in fact, she seemed to have the most perfect family background.

Sighing sadly, she realized that there was probably very little that she could have actually done to ensure that Andrew would come back. Andrew was an angel of God, and he knew more than she did about what was happening around them. In the deepest recesses of her heart, she simply wanted it to be her prayer for Jo that had persuaded God to send him back. She had always been in the background, and today, even with the angels being present in her life, she was destined to remain unimportant and insignificant.

The angels were, after all, Christina's friends, not her own, and she was probably only considered to be friends with them by her association with her adopted mother and not by the things she did for others. Now, after talking to Andrew, she was completely convinced that Christina was far superior to her in God's eyes, and her disillusionment had quickly transformed itself into a deeply embedded resentment.

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and released it slowly, but within seconds, someone tapped softly on her door, and she looked up all the while shaking her head despondently not really wishing to see, much less speak with anyone.

Walking over to the door, she opened it and looked up to see that Andrew was now standing on the opposite side.

She could clearly see that the angel looked surprisingly better than he had when she had met him earlier in the hallway. It was probably because Christina had talked to him, she mused, but taking another look at him, she discovered that there was something almost apologetic about him. Instead of speaking, she backed away from the door and allowed him access to her room. Once he had come inside, she went over to the bed and sat down, her elbows now resting on her knees and she was looking down at the carpeted floor without saying a word.

Andrew watched this, but closed the door, came over, and sat down next to her. "Denise?" He spoke her name, thus causing her to briefly look up, but after a split second, her gaze returned to the floor. "I was just wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes."

"OK, shoot," she eventually whispered, her voice emotionless.

"Are you angry with me?" He asked softly.

"No, what makes you think that I am?" her answer was curt, bordering on sarcastic. Instead of responding to her words immediately, he took in her appearance all the while knowing that she was probably at a loss about what had transpired out in the hall.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he eventually offered, his apology causing her to look up again and within a few moments of glancing at various spots in her room, she glanced back over towards where he now sat.

"You didn't," she offered trying to keep a stiff upper lip.

"I didn't?" He asked her, and reached for her hand. Once he held it firmly, but gently in his own, he looked at her, his eyes serene. "Denise, I made some mistakes, I know it and you know it as well. I'm sorry about what happened out in the hallway. Would you believe me if I told you I haven't been myself lately?"

She shrugged her shoulders and looked away. "I don't know what to believe anymore, but out there I think you said everything you intended, and it's obvious that I can't count on you to help Jo any more than I can count on you to help me," she said.

"Of course you can," Andrew said softly. "I know I hurt you, I realize that now, and if you want me to, I'll tell you what happened, I just didn't know if it would have been the best thing for me to have done. You see, I told Christina about it, and she's devastated. I just didn't want to hurt you, too," the angel said softly.

Denise sighed deeply as she looked at the magazine that was placed on her bed. "You did though, I mean, not just because you didn't want to talk to me, that point you made perfectly clear. Right now, I'm just convinced that the only reason you are here now is because someone told you or made you come talk to me, not because you really wanted to."

"That's not true," Andrew objected.

"Then why are you here?" She asked with pain in her eyes. "Let me guess, just to give me another of those sweet 'angel to human talks'."

"In part you're right, I am here because I have to be here, the Father has sent me," he said softly. "I also wanted to tell you that you were right with what you said earlier."

"I was?" She looked at him.

Andrew nodded sadly. "Yes, you were, you know what will happen to your friend, Jo. You realized this last week after what happened, and you do know that she's dying, Denise."

The teenager nodded as she stared down at her lap, the tears brimming from beneath her unhappy eyes. "She's just a girl, why does God want to take her away? I think that's really mean of Him."

"It's not mean, sweetheart, the Father just doesn't want to see her suffer any more than He would have wanted Patrick to be in pain," Andrew said gently as he reached over and touched the side of her face. "Denise, do you hate me for what I have to do?"

Denise looked down at the ground, but after a few moments, she nodded sadly. "I shouldn't and a part of me doesn't, but Andrew, you took Patrick away, and now you're going to take my best friend away, too. I don't know what I'll do when Jo dies, she's the only person who really understands me, I don't even think Dawn understands me anymore, and she's my sister. I mean; I am going to the prom without a date, and I was going to go with Jo so we could hang out together. This was sort of my consolation for being completely unappealing. I mean, if I was, then a boy would have actually asked me out."

"You're not unappealing, Denise, don't judge yourself like that," Andrew objected.

"Well, I don't see a line of guys at my door wanting to ask me out, so what am I supposed to believe?" She asked, but without waiting for him to say something further, she shook her head. "Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore, because after what happened last week at the community center and then seeing you here…I know what's going to happen." her voice trailed off and she looked at him, the tears streaming down over her cheeks.

Andrew looked at her completely at a loss as to what to say. "I know this is hard, Denise," he offered.

"No, you don't. You only show up when someone dies. You were here when Patrick was sick, then when Simon died, but you disappeared after Laura's wedding. I mean; you probably don't care that Jo is dying, that my best friend actually helps abused children at the community center. It is totally unimportant to you and probably to God that she volunteers at the center instead of doing stuff with me…I mean…"

Andrew looked at her somewhat taken aback by her bold statement. "You don't think God wants to help her?"

"No, and I don't think He wants to help me either," she said softly.

Andrew nodded as understanding overwhelmed him. "You're lonely."

"Yeah," she whispered. "I am not as good at making friends as Dawn is. I never was, and now…" She shook her head. "Oh forget it."

"I won't forget it, Denise," he whispered. "Please, talk to me."

"Why should I?" She asked bitingly. "So you can tell me how wrong I'm being, or how foolish I am for feeling this way? Or wait, or is it you can tell me just what a loving God we have who deserves all our praise and adoration when He is the reason we experience so much pain in the first place."

Andrew took a staggering breath as he started to get to his feet. "I think you are angry that I am here and anything I say, you will misinterpret, so maybe I should go. But, you are wrong, God is love, Denise, and He will help both you and Jo, just as I will, if you let us."

"Why should I believe that God cares?" Denise spat out. "Maybe Pastor Stevens was right, maybe God doesn't love us, we're probably just pawns in the great big universal chess match." She got up and without turning back to look at him, she walked out of the room leaving him staring after her.

Within seconds, the angel had gotten to his feet and followed her. "Denise, please wait, I need to explain."

When she heard him, she stopped and turned around. "OK, then explain to me why you are too selfish to see that Jo needs help. She's the one trying to help abused children; she's the one who should be looked upon by God in great favor. I haven't done anything that can be compared to what Jo or Patrick have done. Jo is going to die, and all that she has ever done was to care for other people. I'm just fading into the stinking background and all I'm good for is to go along with the crowd." Her words emerged biting and sarcastic.

"Do you really believe that?" Andrew asked.

"Yeah, all I am is a stupid wallflower," she snapped.

"You aren't just a wallflower, Denise."

"Then what am I? God only answers the prayers of special people like Dawn, who wants a date for the stupid prom, or Jo, who is so noble that people would be sickened by it. Yet, I'm absolutely nothing, it's always been this way and probably always will be." She turned and walked away. "Furthermore, I don't believe in God anymore, at least not the God that you talk about because right now, after what has happened, I'm convinced that He could care less about me."

With that she went back into her room and slammed the bedroom with a force that shook the foundations of the small split-level house.

Seconds later, Dawn came out of her room. "What on earth is her problem?" The girl muttered, but when she saw that Andrew was starting to walk towards the stairs, she called out to him. "Andrew, please don't go. I overheard only a part of that, but the stuff about Old man Stevens was not right. She doesn't believe that anymore than I would."

The angel stopped and turned to face her. "I don't know what else I could do."

"I don't know either," she whispered. "Tell me something, tell me that everything is going to be OK, that I shouldn't worry about her, that she's just having a hard time."

Andrew came over and rested his hand on her shoulder. "I wish I could tell you all of those things, not just because you want me to tell you but because I wish they were too, but I can't lie to you any more than I could to myself."

Dawn nodded dejectedly, her worry-filled gaze on the floor.

Andrew, as if propelled by adrenaline alone pulled her gently into his arms. There, he could feel her body collapsing in his embrace. Seconds later, he took her face in his hands, lifted it gently, and looked in her eyes, all the while seeing the tears in her eyes. "Just let this out, Dawn," he whispered gently.

She nodded as she began to weep softly and buried her face against his chest, her sobs getting the better of her and she allowed herself to cry in the arms of the angel. "I don't know what to do, Andrew," she wept softly. "Please help me."

The angel brushed his hand gently through her hair. "I don't know how much I can do for you, Dawn, but I will do whatever I am able to, I think you know that," he whispered.

"If only Jo could go and hang out with Denise at the prom, but none of us think she will make it. She's getting weaker and weaker, and Denise and I both know why you're here."

Andrew nodded, "I'm not just here to take her home," he offered weakly.

"Then maybe you could help her find a date or something," Dawn asked softly. "I mean, I know that sounds stupid, but no one should have to go to the prom alone and this almost makes me feel guilty for actually having a date."

"I don't know how, right now, Denise won't speak to me," Andrew said softly, but maybe that will change somehow. Andrew said softly as their embrace ended and he followed her down the stairs. After everything that had happened, he was simply not sure if it was such a good idea for him to tell either Dawn or Denise that the Father was there and that Christina had seen and spoken with Him.

Please Father, do something to help Denise, he prayed silently as they reached the landing and joined the family in the living room.

Seconds later, he could hear the Father's voice once again filtering through his conscious, and his Creator's voice was as clear as crystal. Leave Denise to me, My angel, I already have a plan.

Smiling weakly, he nodded.

*****

At that moment, Laura and Sebastian Jensen were just sitting down to dinner when the phone rang in the front hall of their cozy apartment. Laura looked at her husband. "We're you expecting a call?" She asked all the while knowing that Sebastian's art students often called him for help on projects at the most inopportune times.

"No," he said as he dug his fork into the salad that was in a nearby bowl. "Can you get it, Schatz?" he asked using his usual German terms of endearment when speaking with her. "I'm completely famished."

"Sure, honey," she smiled as she put her napkin back on the table. "Go ahead and eat, I'll be back in a few minutes." She walked down the hall and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Laura, it's me," she could hear her mother's voice on the other end and she shouted down the hall to her husband so that he would know that Christina was the person calling.

"What's up, Mom? We just sat down to eat," she said.

"Andrew's back, honey," Christina said.

"Really? How long has it been, like four years or something?" Laura's voice was suddenly filled with excitement as she heard her mother's voice. When the tone of Christina's voice didn't change, Laura spoke. "Mom, what's going on, you sound like death warmed over?"

"If Andrew heard you talking like that, he'd have a heart attack," Sebastian's voice was audible and Laura sighed deeply, but she could hear her mother's soft laughter on the other end of the line.

"I take it you heard him, he's trying to break into sarcastic comedy," Laura said smiling weakly, but diverting her attention back to the call. "OK, what's going on?"

"He's here because of a little girl that will be in my care tomorrow," Christina responded and Laura nodded as her voice continued. "I will be taking the case of a child who has been severely sexually abused."

"Oh man, I'm so sorry, Mom," Laura offered. "Jo Peterson and I have been trying to get the abuse awareness group going at the community center, and it looks as though people would rather shove it under the rug than face it. Now, we have a lot of trouble with local church groups who are trying to shove off their moral standards on us. The civic leaders and the PTA are biting, but the churches seem to think that as long as we avoid it, then it will go away. What's the kid's name, anyway?"

"Melanie," came the soft answer.

"Christianson?" Laura asked.

"How'd you know?" Christina asked.

"Well aside from hearing the story being literally being run into the ground, maybe you should talk to Sebastian," Laura said. "He was the one who tipped the police about what had been happening." She motioned towards her husband, who came over to her and wrapped her in his arms. "Would you tell my mom what you told me?" She asked weakly as she looked up at him.

Sebastian nodded and took the phone. "Hello Christina," he said softly. "I guess you want to know what happened, huh?"

"What was it?" Christina asked.

"I had gone into the bathroom between classes and there was a boy in there who was running water over some bruises he had on his skin. As I came in, he saw me and started to scream, pleading with me not to hurt him."

"Maybe you guys should just come over here, and we can talk about all of this together," Christina eventually suggested. "There has been so much that has happened today that I think it would be better if we discussed it face to face."

The young German nodded. "OK, but let us eat something first, and then we'll come in about half an hour. Is that alright?"

"Yes, we'll see you then," Christina said softly and hung up the phone.

As he did the same, he looked at Laura. "We have to go see your parents tonight, Schatz, something has happened."

Laura smiled and nodded. "Do you know how much I love it when you call me 'sweetie' in German?"

Sebastian smiled. "I'd hug and kiss you but I'm starving, let's eat something and then get over to your parents' place. I have a strange feeling that something else is about to happen and it is not good."

"I guess so," Laura whispered, "because Andrew's back."

"Andrew, but what's he doing here?" Sebastian shook his head in disbelief as they went back into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"She didn't say a lot, I suppose that this all has something to do with what you started to tell my mom," Laura said as they sat back down at the table, her appetite gone. "So, what are we going to do?"

"I suppose we should start by eating and then getting out of here," Sebastian said shrugging his shoulders. When he saw that his wife was staring down at the tabletop without even touching the salad, he reached over and touched her shoulder. "Are you OK?"

Laura shook her head. "I know this sounds weird, but I'm afraid. I mean; I keep thinking about Jo Peterson. She has been at the center for about a year now, but over the last few weeks, she has not been looking well at all. It just seems like with Andrew being here, I somehow think that her days are numbered. Do you think she'll be able to go to the prom?"

"I don't know," Sebastian said as they sat down at the table. He started poking his salad, but after a few moments, he could tell that Laura was completely consumed with sadness and he knew that the best thing they could do was to get over to Christina and Jeremy's as soon as possible. "Maybe we should go now," he suggested. "We can grab something on our way over and then at least we can eat together."

Laura shook her head. "That sounds fine and good, but you need to eat, Sebastian."

"I know, but what if I were to tell you that I was just as nervous about all of this as you are?" He asked softly and looked at her, his eyes intent. "You believe me, don't you?"

Laura cracked a smile and nodded. "Yeah, I think I do, but that's only because you just added three teaspoons of sugar to your baked potato."

Sebastian started to chuckle. "We all have our moments," he smiled as he pushed the plate away. "I'm just sorry that your food will go uneaten."

"Don't worry about it, we can take the salad with us, and so we'll only throw one potato out, besides that one I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole," she smiled.

Sebastian nodded and got to his feet. While Laura cleaned up the table, he got their jackets out of the hall cabinet. Some moments later, the couple left their apartment, got in their car, and drove back in the direction of Christina and Jeremy's house.

*****

Across town, Jo Peterson was sitting on the sofa in the living room. Her wheelchair was nearby, but she was staring down at the magazine that was on her lap. She had gotten out of the hospital earlier that afternoon and although she was getting nervous again, she could not explain why and this was the worst part of the whole situation she lived with.

From her vantage point on the sofa, she could see that her mother was working in the dining room, her sister had just turned fourteen-years-old and was spending this Friday night at her friend's house. As she continued to stare at the wall, her mother came into the room, thus taking a break from the work she had strewn across the dining table.

Ever since angels had visited them four years ago, Jennifer had become more open to the idea of celestial visitations, and although the family didn't go to church, they found a strange sense of comfort in knowing that God existed.

"Hey Jo," her mother said smiling all the while, realizing that although her name was Josephine, she respected that her eldest daughter didn't particularly care for the name and had started calling her by the preferred shortened variation of the name.

"Mom, I've been thinking about something," Jo said softly.

"What the doctor said?" Jennifer asked, almost anticipating the next words of her daughter.

Jo nodded, "yeah. I know that Andrew said that we don't know how much time I have left, but something deep inside of me is saying that I'm going to see him again and very soon."

Jennifer sat down next to her. "Are you afraid?" She asked, but before her daughter could speak, she continued. "Because this conversation scares me more than anything in the world."

"I know," Jo whispered. "I kept thinking that it would be nice if I, at least, could graduate or go to my prom. I guess my greatest wish would be that I could actually walk into that large ballroom with a beautiful gown swirling around my ankles and the cutest boy in our class asking me to dance."

Jennifer smiled weakly and nodded. "I think I can understand what you are saying. My prom was really nice; the boy I went with was really smart. He didn't have much going for him in the looks department, but he had a nice laugh, and when I would hear his laughter, it would carry through the room and drift to the heavens."

"What happened to him?" Jo asked.

"We parted on good terms, he moved to Houston after getting his Masters and has been working for NASA for the last five or so years," Jennifer said.

"Are you still in touch with him?" Jo asked.

"I wish I was, because I think a part of me still loves him, but he's probably married with four kids, a dog and a goldfish. All the really good ones eventually do get snagged," Jennifer said.

"Did you ever think about maybe moving to Houston?" Jo asked.

"No, you and Katie have your friends here, and it would seem too much like betting on a horse to go out there and run the risk of finding nothing but disappointment," Jennifer said softly.

Jo nodded, she knew what was happening; her mother was taking the chance to divert the conversation. "Mom, what are you going to do when I'm gone?" She finally managed to ask.

Jennifer could feel the immediate lump lodging in her throat and she shook her head. "I honestly don't know," she whispered. "I always heard that the parents are supposed to die before their children, but now I realize that that's not always the case."

Jo smiled weakly. "Mom, these past four years have been wonderful, they have been a dream for me. You got me and Katie to the Grand Canyon, and you gave me an Indian bracelet that I haven't taken off since we had visited the reservation."

Jennifer shook her head. "I wanted to do more, honey, I wanted to make you walk."

Jo smiled as she looked into the unhappy eyes of her mother. "I know you did, but you're not God, Mom."

"I know," the woman could feel the tears in her eyes and she tried without much success to wipe them away.

"I do need to ask you something though," Jo said softly.

"What is it?" Jennifer asked.

"I've been working with Laura Jansen on a project at the community center. She and her husband and Denise have been trying to work on raising the level of awareness in the community about the issue of child abuse and prevention. I have been trying to make people aware of what has been happening, and Mom, when I'm gone, would you help them continue this? It's really important."

"Why is this so important to you? You've been obsessing about this ever since the angels were here," Jennifer said softly.

"Well, during that time, there was a boy in my class who was abused, and you remember, I was a student assistant at the guidance counselor's office. He would go in there and talk about it, and I overheard some of it. I realized after the angels left that maybe instead of sitting around and thinking about dying, that I could actually do something that would help. So, as soon as I was sixteen, I went over to the center and started doing this. I know I'm just one person, but if one person can make a difference, then that's all anyone could expect, right?"

Jennifer smiled. "I'll do whatever I can to help then. I promise, but is there something else that you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," she offered weakly. "Ever since they busted the sexual abuse ring on the internet, I have been afraid that something else could happen to my friends, and I can't even begin to imagine what these people go through. I mean, sure I overheard the words of the boy at the counselor's office, but…"

Jennifer nodded. "I don't know how much I could do either, I grew up in such a perfect family, if such a thing exists. It seems almost a travesty for me to try and tell people about child abuse when I'm not directly affected by it."

"But, that's what we need," Jo said softly as she pulled out a wrinkled up newspaper article. "If people who aren't affected by this issue don't take a stand, then what will change? Nothing, I want my life, no matter how short it is, to have some sort of purpose, and this is where it comes from. Please, Mom, will you help me?"

Jennifer wrapped her daughter in her arms. "I think I know why God wants to call you home, you have too good of a heart to remain here with us."

Jo held tightly to her mother, but as she felt the embrace intensify, she could feel the tears as they streamed down her cheeks. On the other side of the room, Monica and Tess stood watching the two of them.

"She really is wanting to make a difference, isn't she?" Monica asked.

Tess nodded. "That's the only thing that is keeping Jo alive, Angel Girl."

Monica shook her head with profound disbelief shadowing her pretty face. "It's amazing, Tess. She's grown so much in the last four years."

The supervisor nodded as they watched the two humans for a few more minutes before they both disappeared.

*****

Back at the Lowery house, Christina was pacing uncomfortably when at last the doorbell rang and she looked at Jeremy. He was comfortably lounging on the sofa reading the paper and she went to answer the door. As she opened it, she could see that Laura was standing on the other side. Her daughter held a large bucket of chicken and Sebastian held a plastic bag.

"Hey Mom," Laura began. "Sebastian didn't get a chance to grab dinner, so we went ahead and brought enough for an army."

"Did I hear my daughter say 'food'?" Jeremy asked as he lowered the newspaper, tossed it on the sofa, got up, and joined his wife in the front hall in order to greet his daughter and son-in-law.

"Well, only if you want some," Sebastian said, his hazel eyes twinkling merrily as he regarded his in-laws.

"You guys are angels," Christina said smiling for what appeared to be the first time that day.

"Speaking of angels, you said that Andrew was back," Laura said, her face suddenly serious as she regarded the troubled look that shadowed her mother's face. "Mom, what's going on?"

Christina took a deep breath and looked at her daughter. "It's a long story," she began. "Maybe we should get the girls and eat this before it gets cold."

Laura exchanged concerned looks with her husband as they walked through the living room and came into a small dining area that was adjacent to the kitchen. Laura immediately made herself at home by going into the kitchen and pulling down glasses, plates and utensils. "Schatz, could you put the plates on the table?" She asked Sebastian.

He nodded and flashed her a toothy grin. "I just love it when you call me that," he said almost repeating what she had said back at their apartment.

"You are terrible, I think you've been spending too much time with my dad, 'cause your humor is just as warped as his is," Laura said smiling as Jeremy seated himself at the table. Once he had a knife and a fork in his hand, he held them up and smiled at them.

"OK, where's the food," he said smiling, "I'm ready."

Christina looked at him. "Silly, but I think someone needs to go and get the girls."

"I'll go," Laura said as she finished setting the table. She quickly left the room and Christina looked at her son-in-law.

"Sebastian, what happened at the community center last week?" She finally gunned up enough courage to speak. Jeremy, as if by impulse, reached over and grasped his wife's hand.

"It was pretty bad," Sebastian said softly. "I know this boy from the art classes, his name is Ritchie and he's a really talented kid. I give him a piece of chalk and he could draw a caricature of Albert Einstein in nothing flat. It's as though he goes through all the anger and frustration he carries through his artwork. Anyway, when he left the class abruptly to go to the bathroom, something compelled me follow him." The younger man sighed deeply as he continued his story. "I wish I hadn't. I mean; it's probably good that I did, because when I got to the bathroom, I saw this little boy is standing in front of a mirror and he's got bruises all over himself. When I cleared my throat as a way to let him know that I was there, this kid just started screaming. He's grabbing anything he can get his hands on to throw at me. I'm dodging paper towels, and spools of toilet paper."

"What happened next?" Jeremy asked as Christina sat listening with tears streaming from beneath her eyes.

"He's telling me he doesn't want to do it, and that it hurts too much. I was appalled, I mean; I know that my English isn't very good, but I know what he was implying. I did, after all live over a year on the streets, and one doesn't have to be a genius to know the signs of it, and it absolutely horrified me," Sebastian took a staggering breath as he continued to speak. "That was when I pulled my cell phone out and called the social services as well as the police department. I honestly didn't know what else to do; Ritchie was obviously being abused, but I didn't know to what extent, and I know that if he suddenly became scared of me then there are probably other kids at the center and in this town who are being abused like this as well. Even after all the work that Laura, Jo, Denise and I have done to enhance community awareness."

"Do you know what eventually happened to him?" Christina asked softly.

Sebastian nodded. "His parents were arrested and he was sent to live with his aunt and uncle in Chicago."

Jeremy took up the story. "There was a big pornography ring busted last week, honey, and Ritchie's parents were two of the ringleaders. Now, there are a bunch of children scattered around the community who are in special homes and clinics."

"In other words, they need an angel or two," Christina said softly.

"I'm sure they will get one, Christina," Sebastian said softly. "That's the only thing that comforts me in all of this. Just knowing that God is sending angels to help these poor lost souls."

Jeremy squeezed his wife's hand gently, and looked at his son-in-law. "Are you fairing OK in all of this, Son?"

Sebastian nodded. "I never thought teaching kids how to draw would become so hard for me, but I think I am OK, yet, it is so hard, Jeremy. I want to help these kids, but I don't know how."

"I know what you mean," Christina said softly, and now that God is depending on me to reach Melanie then I know I have to succeed, she added silently.

A few minutes later, Laura came into the room and behind her was Dawn and Andrew. "Denise said that she's not hungry," Laura explained as she and Dawn took seats at the table. Dawn was stewing over her conversation with Andrew, and Laura could tell by looking at the angel, that something was not setting right with him.

Instead of asking him about it, Laura reached for her husband and mother's hands and waited for Christina to ask the blessing.

*****

After dinner, Jeremy and Sebastian went into the living room, Andrew went back upstairs claiming to need some more rest, the twins went back to their rooms and Christina and Laura were left alone in the dining room. As she began to clear the table, Laura looked at her mother. "What's going on, Mom? You've been acting like a scared rabbit since Sebastian and I walked through the door tonight."

Christina sighed deeply but looked at her daughter. "I have a lot on my mind," she offered meekly, but from looking at Laura, she knew that the young woman was not about to take that as any sort of adequate rationale for her strange behavior.

"I got promoted today," Christina offered weakly. "But I was also assigned to a new case, and I'm pondering if I can even do anything to help the child."

"Does any of this have to do with Andrew?" Laura asked. "He looked awfully quiet during dinner and I often wonder why it is that he seemed to be carrying himself like he was. He's usually not that quiet."

Christina looked at her daughter. "When I found Andrew this afternoon, he looked completely broken up. Adam had showed up at the office and had told me where I could find Andrew. It was very strange, the whole series of events, but anyway, after we got here, I asked Dawn to take care of him while I talked to your father about what had been going on. That's why we needed to talk to Sebastian about what he had seen at the center, I needed some insight on how to deal with this particular case. I just didn't feel right about it, and I guess if truth were known I still don't."

"Mom, why don't we sit down on the terrace and really talk? You've been standing here for the last ten minutes with that plate in your hand. Maybe it would help if you and I really talked, and not just cleaned the kitchen. We can get that taken care of after we talk," Laura suggested.

Christina nodded as she put the dish into the dishwasher and the two of them left the kitchen. Once outside, she looked at her daughter. "Laura, I saw God tonight," she eventually said, her voice barely above a whisper, and for some moments she pondered whether or not her daughter had even heard her.

"You saw God?" Laura asked, her voice soft, but it seemed as though she was more or less repeating the statement her mother had made as opposed to inquiring about it.

"I know you'll probably think I'm crazy, but it's the truth, After I talked to your father tonight about what had happened, I went back upstairs and could hear Andrew and someone talking from out in the hallway. For a second, I thought it was Adam, but the voice was different. I guess my curiosity got the better of me, so without warning, I went inside the room and saw Andrew and this stranger there. I looked at the stranger and asked who He was and what He was doing here. He looked at me and said 'I Am Andrew's Father, Christina'. I thought I was cracking up, but Laura it was really God, He was really in the room."

"Mom, I…" Laura began, but her voice failed her. "I believe you, but…"

"I know, I probably wouldn't believe it either, but He was here," Christina said softly, her voice insistent. "We talked a little bit, and He told me I was supposed to take this case with Melanie Christianson, but I told Him how scared I was."

"Why would you be scared, Mom? You're the best child psychologist in this town?" Laura asked. "You helped me when I was little, and back then you weren't all that experienced. Today, you are."

"That's just it, I keep remembering Ted Gordon," Christina said softly.

"Ted Gordon?" Laura asked. In all the events that had taken place in her life, her mother had never once dropped that name to her. "Who is Ted Gordon?"

"He was a boy I counseled and who ended up killing himself. He was in a depression at the time, but afterwards his mother notified the press and she succeeded in making my life a misery. Ironically, we ran into her after you and your father were in that car accident. It was some four or five years since Ted's death, but when I started reading this file that Peter had given to me about Melanie, then I was immediately reminded of him and how I failed."

Laura shook her head. "Just because a kid thinks that suicide is their only option does not mean that you failed."

"But I did, Laura, and now that I have to take Melanie's case, I am not sure what I will be able to do for this child. It's a horrible situation, but the Father said that I was whom He wanted to help her. What if I fail? I'll let God down, but also that little girl, and myself."

Laura shook her head, but when she looked up she could see that they were not alone, there was a middle aged man standing not too far away from them and was listening to their conversation. I've seem him before, she thought to herself, but when she rubbed her eyes and looked back in the direction of where the man had stood, she realized that he had vanished into thin air. Sighing deeply, she shook her head and looked at her mother. "Mom, I honestly don't think you're going to let anyone down, much less God."

"I don't know anymore," Christina said softly.

"When are you supposed to see her?" Laura asked.

"Tomorrow, and from what I hear; I really have my work cut out for me. Based on her file as well as the reports on the news, Melanie is very fragile. She won't even go near Peter, and I can't comprehend why a child would feel so much fear around men."

"Well, remember how I was, I was scared of you and Dad for the longest time, the only one I really trusted was Andrew, and it was because I knew that he wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I mean, this is your area, but I do remember how I was when we first met, I was a mess, but in retrospect I identified every grown up with my birth parents," Laura offered freely.

"You were never scared of Andrew," Christina whispered.

"Were you? I mean, when you first met him, did you freak about who he was?" Laura asked. "You know that Andrew is not a person, he's different, and I guess as a little girl, I acknowledged this."

Christina nodded. "Sometimes I think it would be easier to be an angel than a person, especially with regards to things like this."

Laura smiled weakly. "I know what you mean." Her thoughts seemed to drift, however, and she continued to glance towards where she had seen the man just moments ago. Who was he? Where did he come from? The questions raged in her mind until Christina looked at her and spoke.

"Is everything OK?" She asked.

"I just saw something, but wasn't sure what it was," she muttered and shrugged her shoulders.

At that moment, Jeremy appeared in the doorway and spoke. "You two want to join us for a game of Trivial Pursuit?"

Laura nodded and looked at her mother. "Come on, maybe this will get our minds off the other stuff going in."

"OK," she smiled weakly as they got to their feet and went back into the house. As soon as they sat down to play, everyone could tell that both Laura and Christina now seemed to be consumed with troubles. Jeremy watched them both, all the while shaking his head and wondering if things would get better for them, but wondering what it was that had happened to his daughter, because instead of being happy, Laura now looked as jittery as Christina.

Sighing deeply, he realized that all he could do was just be there for them and hope that when the next morning rolled around, that things would get better for all of them.

*****

The following morning, Melanie came into the office building in the company of her grandmother. The woman held tightly to the 11-year-old girl's hand, and as she led the child to the elevator, she took a deep breath. "Come on Melanie," she admonished, the patience at her granddaughter's sporadic behavior reaching its end and if truth were known, the elderly woman seemed to be looking for any reason that existed to cast her granddaughter to one side.

Melanie seemed completely oblivious to the concerns of her grandmother, but as they reached the elevator, the child saw a man with short blonde hair getting on and her knees buckled and she slid to the floor, her body balling up like that of a hedgehog.

"I don't want to go," the child cried out when she saw the man.

Louise, not knowing what to do, pulled the girl to her feet and started to literally heave her towards the elevator doors. The man took a deep and staggering breath as he looked down at the girl and her completely agitated grandmother.

"Is she OK?" The man asked gently, his voice soft, and Melanie looked up, her eyes briefly meeting those of the man, but she looked down again as her grandmother somehow managed to get the child into the elevator.

"What floor?" The man asked softly.

"I don't know," Louise muttered. "The psychologist office's card is in my purse, and I seem to have my hands full."

"Are you looking for Peter Harris' office by chance?" The man asked.

"Yes, but how did you know that?" Louise asked.

"That's the only child psychologist office in this building," the man said. "I'm also a friend of one of the doctors there, my name is Andrew."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Andrew, this is Melanie and my name is Louise," she said as she looked down at the despondent child. "Melanie, this is Andrew."

The child regarded him with fear and sullen eyes, but when the elevator stopped and the doors opened, she bolted from the small enclosure and Andrew remained inside as Louise took after the girl.

The Angel of Death shook his head sadly as he watched them round a corner. Once the elevator doors closed, he disappeared and reappeared, this time in angelic form in Christina's office.

He could not help but notice how Christina seemed to still be somewhat uptight about the impending meeting with the girl, but before he could make his presence known to her, someone tapped on the door and he walked to the far corner of the room and remained there watching as Christina got to her feet and went to open the door.

Standing on the other side was Peter Harris, and next to him was Louise and Melanie Christianson. Melanie had succeeded in distancing herself as far from Peter that she could, but was regarding Christina with mistrust in her expression.

Instead of focusing too extensively on the child, she took a deep breath. "Good morning," she offered. "My name is Christina Lowery."

Louise nodded. "Louise and this is my granddaughter Melanie, she has an appointment for ten o'clock."

Christina smiled and nodded as she came out of the office and went into the waiting room where Melanie was now seated. As Louise had introduced herself to the psychologist, Melanie had tried to once again distance herself from the adults, her eyes void of expression.

Without any hesitation, the woman walked slowly over to the girl and crouched down so that she would be able to see the child better. "Melanie, my name is Christina," she began.

Melanie looked away, her eyes now on her lap and no words emerged.

Louise seemed not to notice how Christina's actions were affecting the child; instead, she looked at Peter. "I'll be here to pick her up in time for lunch." With that the older woman left the office, thus leaving the child in the hands of Peter and Christina.

As soon as she realized that her grandmother had left the office, Melanie released a blood curdling scream and Peter backed his way out of the room saying something about having something else to tend to.

Christina took a deep breath wondering all the while how she was going to manage to get the child to stop screaming. Eventually, she decided to try something that her mother had done when she was a little girl, she began to scream as well.

Melanie, hearing the screams emerging from the grown woman, found this strange and she eventually stopped. Seconds later, Christina did as well. I never imagined that that would work, but it did, she thought as she sat down next to Melanie.

"My name is Christina, Melanie," she said softly once more trying the introduction.

The child shrugged her shoulders, but said nothing.

"OK, then why don't we go inside and I'll show you something, OK?" She offered softly, her voice filled with gentility. When the girl did not respond, Christina extended her hand to the child who, not knowing what to do, slapped it away.

Christina, feeling the sting from the slap unconsciously rubbed her hands together all the while trying to ignore the throbbing pain that resulted in Melanie's actions. Finally, she looked at Melanie. "I guess you're kind of scared of me, aren't you? I'm a stranger to you, and most grown ups you know have hurt you, haven't they?"

Melanie looked up, but instead of speaking, she offered a timid nod.

"I remember when my daughter Laura came to stay with me, she was scared of me too, she had been abused by her birth parents, and trust was really hard to come by, something that had to be earned. I hope that you will eventually trust me, Melanie," Christina said softly.

The young girl covered her face with her hands, but Christina could see that they were trembling even as she did the simple act of rubbing her eyes.

Christina glanced skyward. "Father, what should I do?" She whispered under her breath.

"What?" Melanie's voice emerged and Christina could see that the child was now looking at her.

"I was praying," Christina replied softly. "I asked God to help me."

"God?" Melanie's voice was small.

"Do you know who God is, Melanie?" Christina asked softly.

The girl shook her head. "No."

"God is," she glanced towards the door leading into her office and could see that Andrew was now standing in the doorway. The angel was unseen by the child, but Christina sighed deeply as she made eye contact with her as she tried to collect her thoughts. "God is love," she whispered. "He is all that is, all the love and kindness that there is."

"He…" Melanie shook her head.

"You think that all 'he's' are like your father, don't you?" Christina asked.

Melanie nodded slowly as a stray tear slid from beneath her unhappy blue eyes. Christina reached over to wipe it away but Melanie backed away from her, thus preventing any sort of contact from being initiated. The woman had no choice and she reluctantly lowered her hand.

"Would you like a tissue?" Christina asked, but Melanie responded by wiping the tear away with the sleeve of her shirt.

After a few moments, Christina returned her focus on what they had been talking about before Melanie had expressed the small amount of the emotion that she still carried. "God is not like your father, Melanie, He would never hurt you," Christina said softly.

"All men hurt me," Melanie said softly, her voice filled with despondency, but hidden amidst die painful words, the young girl seemed afraid.

Christina spent the remainder of the session trying to get through to Melanie, but when her grandmother returned and picked her up, Christina was ready to leave for the day, her sense of hopelessness overwhelming. "She doesn't trust me," she whispered under her breath as she shook her head.

"How did it go?" Peter asked as he came out of his office once Louise had arrived to take Melanie home.

"I don't really know," Christina whispered. "I know it's only one day and that she'll be back tomorrow, but yet, it feels as though it's going to take years to reach her and something tells me I don't have years, I don't even have a month before Louise decides to have that scared child locked away. Peter, you remember Ted Gordon and what happened to him, don't you?"

The senior psychologist nodded. "I remember being a traitor to you and making the biggest mistake of my life," he whispered. "I terminated your employment because of a bunch of lies that I had read about in the paper."

"It wasn't your fault, but now…" her voice trailed off and she shook her head. "How can I even make a difference to Melanie if she won't trust me? How can I do this without constantly remembering what happened with Ted?"

Peter placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's going to take time, Christina. You cannot expect everything to go perfectly during the first session. It's going to take at least five or so sessions before this child is going to even begin to trust you."

"Her grandmother doesn't seem to care," Christina whispered. "You saw how she was, she couldn't wait to get her out of here."

Peter nodded sadly. "You're not kidding, I noticed it too, and chances are Louise is going to want progress to happen quickly. If Melanie doesn't come out of this 'state' she's in and quickly, Louise is going to turn her over to the psychiatric rehab center."

Sighing deeply and seeing images of 'One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest' filtering through her mind, she nodded. "I just don't know how I am going to deliver this miracle."

"Then go home and get some rest," Peter said calmly. "Your next appointment with Melanie is set for tomorrow afternoon at one, and I don't want to see you back here before noon tomorrow."

Christina nodded as she dejectedly went back into her office and retrieved her briefcase. As she began to stuff files into it, someone tapped on her door and she looked up and could see that Andrew was standing outside the door, the angel now in human form and she smiled weakly when he saw him.

"You here to take me home?" She asked weakly.

"If you want me to," Andrew said. "You look completely frazzled."

"You saw what happened in there," she whispered. "I'm a flop, Andrew."

"You cannot expect to move mountains in a two hour session, Christina," Andrew scolded her softly as he went over to his friend.

"I know, but it's hard…that child looks so lost," she whispered, but in the back of her mind, she could not help but ponder what had happened when she had spoken to God the previous evening. After thinking for a few minutes, she looked into the eyes of her friend. "Yesterday really happened, didn't it?"

Andrew nodded, "yes, the Father was there and He spoke with you."

Christina shook her head. "I just don't want to let Him down. I wouldn't be able to live with myself with the knowledge that God is disappointed in me."

"He wouldn't be, not ever, my friend," Andrew said softly, but he looked at her, his kind eyes filled with gentility. "If He can embrace me after my horrible behavior yesterday, then don't you think that maybe you're just being a bit hard on yourself in all this?"

She smiled weakly and nodded. "OK, so you're right again, but what should we do now?" Christina asked softly. "We won't be able to see Melanie until one tomorrow."

Andrew shook his head. "I don't know, maybe we'll just have to wait until then." As he spoke, a woman came running into the office, her eyes filled with fright as she regarded the two of them.

"Call 911, there's been an emergency," the woman said out of breath. "There's a girl out by the elevators who is very ill."

"What happened?" Andrew asked.

"I don't know exactly, all I know is I saw this girl and an older woman going into the elevator and without warning. The girl started to freak out. She wouldn't go inside and the older woman acted as though nothing had happened and she started pulling the child towards the doors leading inside, but before they went inside, the kid just fainted dead away right."

"This may sound like a strange question, but were there any men in the elevator?" Christina asked softly.

"Yeah, three or four, they worked upstairs in the chemical lab with me and they were on their lunch break, why?" She asked, but before she could get an answer to her inquiry, Christina ran towards the door and out into the hallway towards the elevator. When she saw that Melanie was lying on the ground in front of the doors, she sped back to her office and stumbled into Andrew in route to grabbing the telephone and calling an ambulance.

Andrew watched the actions of his friend and after a few moments had passed, he looked at the woman. "Take me to where she is," he said without thinking.

The woman nodded and led him out into the large hallway. When he saw Louise and how she was slapping the child mercilessly in order to get Melanie to wake up, he went over and grabbed her hand before she could inflict another blow against her granddaughter's pale face. "She's unconscious and will not wake up because you are slapping her," he said softly as Christina joined them in the hallway.

The woman who had informed them of the emergency, thinking that there was nothing more she could do, left the office and neither Christina nor Andrew saw her again.

Andrew sat down on the ground next to the unconscious child and Christina followed suit.

Louise looked at the angel. "What are you going to do to her?" She asked as she watched him take the child's limp hand in his own and squeezed it.

Christina looked at her, "he's trying to help her," she offered, her eyes filled with sadness.

"I don't know what he could do for her, she's pretty much a hopeless case. I think the only option I have is to put her up at Spring-View Medical," Louise mused as Christina shook her head.

"How can you?" She asked without thinking twice about what she was saying. "Your granddaughter has been through so much already, but to have their only living relative turn their back on them must be horrid."

"What am I supposed to do?" Louise snapped. "I am pushing 65, and I don't have the energy to deal with what she has been through."

Christina looked down at Melanie's body and could see that Andrew was still crouched next to the child, his hand holding hers and he was whispering gently to her.

Moments later, the paramedic came over and started administering the child and once they had transferred Melanie to a stretcher, they rolled her away with Louise following and Christina watched with unsuppressed sadness as they took the child to the hospital.

Andrew stood up after they had left and he looked at Christina. He could see the tears in her eyes and he took a deep breath. "You really care for her, don't you?" He finally managed to ask.

"She's so damaged, Andrew," she began, the tears catching in her eyes. "I don't know how in the world I would ever be able to reach her. Did she say anything to you just now?"

The angel shook his head. "No, but I'm needed with her, are you sure you're going to be OK?" He asked gently as he looked at her.

Christina nodded and watched as her friend disappeared. Once he was gone, she walked with weighted steps back towards her office. Opening the door, she went inside the lush office. Peter had emerged from his office, his wife, Dana, with him. Both smiled warmly at her as he spoke.

"I thought I told you to go home, Christina," He offered gently, his voice filled with kindness.

She shook her head. "I was about to go, but Melanie collapsed outside and someone came in just now and told me that I should call 911. That grandmother of hers makes me so angry I could throw something."

"Louise Christianson?" Dana asked.

"You know her?" Christina asked.

"You might say that, she and I were classmates back when. This was a long time ago and we're probably the only people left from our graduating class that are still here," she said as she ran her hand through her curly gray hair. "You probably don't know this, but Louise had her share of nightmarish experiences and chances are, this situation with Melanie is probably causing a lot of them to come back to her."

"I don't understand," Christina looked at Peter and then at Dana.

"Maybe it might help you to know that these kinds of things sometimes do run in families," Peter said and his wife nodded. "Dana told me some interesting things about Louise and her family background, and these were things I didn't know, but sometimes history does repeat itself in situations like this, and maybe you might consider cutting Louise Christianson a little bit of slack."

Christina nodded. "I'll try," was all she was able to offer as she watched Peter and Dana left the office and she looked around the now empty waiting room. Taking a deep breath as she sat down on one of the chairs and covered her face with her hands and allowed the tears to stream from beneath her unhappy eyes. After a few moments, she could feel that someone was seated next to her and was pressing a handkerchief into her hand.

She looked up and into a kind pair of eyes. "F-Father?" She spoke, her words trembling as she felt her body shifting and she collapsed in the embrace of her Creator.

"Shhh," He whispered gently, His fingers brushing gently through her hair.

"I f-failed You, Father," she whispered as she felt the tears continuing to stream down over her face. As these words emerged, she shook her head.

"You didn't fail Me, My child," the gentle voice of the Creator said. "You are worried about the little girl, and I Am always with her, as I Am always with you."

Christina shook her head, "b-but I did. I tried to get her to talk to me, but she wouldn't."

The Father continued to stroke her hair gently, but after a few moments, His hand reached for her own, that she offered willingly. "Christina, you spent a great deal of time chastising yourself about this, but how many times do you suppose I have tried to speak with someone only to have them ignore Me? Do you not remember the events with Kevin Miller?"

Christina nodded; it was one of the most confusing and heartbreaking times in her life. Kevin had assaulted her when she was 23-years-old, and then over 15 years later, she had to go back and try to find forgiveness. This had been the first time she had gotten angry with Andrew and had thrown him out of her house. Her face still flushed with shame every time she was reminded of this particular event.

Instead of making eye contact with the Father, she looked down at her lap, her eyes filled with sadness. "Christina, I Am not here to remind you of an event in your life that you would prefer to forget, but you too have ignored My voice in your heart for whatever reason, and today, this is happening with this young girl. Just remember that whatever it is you do, I will not be disappointed in you, I Am, in fact, incredibly proud of you.

Upon hearing His words, she looked up, her eyes filled with sadness. "I-I thought that You would be disappointed in me, that I may fail when it comes to reaching Melanie." As she shook her head, she could feel the tears escaping from beneath her eyes. "Oh Father, I was so scared that You would…"

The Father rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. When she looked up, she could see that He was shaking His head slowly. "I would never be disappointed in you, My child."

Christina nodded and within seconds, the Father was gone, and she was left holding a cloth handkerchief in her hand. When she looked down at it she smiled weakly and placed the small piece of cloth into her pocket.

*****

The same morning, Denise was walking the halls at school. She had choir rehearsal for this period and always enjoyed the opportunity to sing; at least by attending it, she would have something to take her mind off of all the terrible things that were happening around her.

As she made her way towards the choir room, she could see that some of the members of the choir were standing out in the hallway. "Hey guys, what's going on?"

"Oh nothing, we got another sub," one of the boys moaned. "I hate it when Mr. Travers is not here just before a concert. It always makes it seem as though things are going to fall completely apart. Anyway, I just went in and there was this joker seated himself at the piano. He probably can't even play 'chopsticks' but wants to make us think he's hot stuff or something."

Denise nodded; she had seen enough know-it-all substitute teachers in her day, and from what the boys were saying about this one, it looked as though this was going to be another cancelled rehearsal. The guy would probably turn it into a study hall, and the last thing she really wanted to do was sit around and think about how horrible her life was. The worst thing about it was not that there was probably not going to be a rehearsal, but that she would probably be stuck making small talk with this guy because she was Mr. Travers's student assistant for the period following the rehearsal.

After a few moments had passed, she could suddenly hear the sounds of Beethoven's fifth symphony being played from inside the choir room and that the boys who had been in the hallway were now practically running over each other in order to get inside.

As she came into the room, she could see about six girls huddled around the piano and a man in a light gray suit and dark brown hair was sitting there playing with all the passion of a concert pianist. "Woah," the students who entered the room behind her muttered and as she took her seat with the other members of the choir, Denise sat and stared at him.

"That's amazing," she whispered under her breath as the last part of the piece was heard throughout the room, the bell rang, and the teacher removed his hands from the keyboard.

As he finished and looked up; the entire choir broke into thunderous applause.

"That was amazing," one of the girls said, her voice high with flirtatious intent.

Denise groaned, "it's really not surprising how much Penny sucks up to the teachers, maybe she thinks she'll get more points with Mr. Travers when he comes back," she whispered and the girl seated next to her nodded.

"Thank you, everyone, please, take your seats and we're going to get this rehearsal underway. Yes, this will be a rehearsal as Mr. Travers has informed me of what music you will be doing for your up and coming concert." Denise sighed with relief as she pulled her black choir folder from underneath her chair. "Now then, I think an introduction is in order, my name is Mr. Gottlieb, and I will be your substitute until Mr. Travers comes back from having his tonsils removed."

"Will he still be able to sing?" One of the girls asked.

"Of course, but most of his absence will be due to his being in recovery, but he will be back in time for the concert," the response came. "Now then, as you know, we really have some work to do. Mr. Travers told me that the pieces you will need to work on would be 'What a Wonderful World', and 'A Piece of Sky'."

As the other choir members pulled the two pieces of music from their folders, Denise stared down at the floor, her eyes filled with anger. Why did we have to sing those two today, especially when I'm in such a bad mood? When the substitute teacher started playing the music, she took a deep breath and opened the small foldout piece of music.

The hour passed without incident and when it was over the other members of the choir got up to leave the room. Denise remained seated and once the room was empty, she looked up to see that the substitute teacher was still seated at the piano. She put her music away and went over to the cabinet in order to put her folder in its slot.

"Denise?" The voice of the teacher emerged and she nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned around. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"No big deal," she said as she closed the cabinet. "I guess Mr. Travers told you who I am, and that I'm sort of his gofer for this period."

The teacher smiled. "Yes, he told me, but I think that everything that needed to be taken care of has already been done."

"Oh, OK, then what should I do, make study hall?" Denise asked dryly.

"No, why don't we go and play some music?" He suggested.

"But, I don't play, I haven't since I was nine," she smiled. "If that was anything remotely called playing. My parents used to have a piano in the parlor of our house. My mom would teach me to play hymns and other stuff. I can play 'How Great Thou Art', and a bunch of religious stuff, I mean; at least a little, but I don't like that stuff anymore."

"Then let's try something else," the teacher suggested, but when he saw her contemplative expression. "Or do you want to study for finals?"

"No, I would rather not study," she offered honestly. "I already have studied for all my exams and if I have to sit around here and do that, I'll go nuts."

"Then I'll play something and you sing along," he suggested and looked at her.

"Mr. Gottlieb, I am not very good, I mean people may say that I am, but…" her voice trailed off.

"Just give it a try," he said encouragingly. "You don't lose anything by trying, Denise, but you do find out to what extent you surprise yourself."

Denise nodded. "OK," she eventually conceded as she looked at the piano.

The teacher sat down at the piano and began to play, the song was 'The Greatest Love of All' and Denise began to sing along, her voice soft at first, but after a few moments, her thoughts drifted and she thought about Jo, and she sighed deeply as she stopped singing.

The teacher noticed this and he stopped playing. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "I can't sing that song."

"Why is that?"

"Because I don't believe it anymore. How can I sing about children being the future of the world when children die and…" She shook her head. "…I'm sorry, I know you're trying to be nice, but…"

"You have a lot of worries, don't you?" The teacher asked softly as he got up from the piano and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Why don't we sit down?"

Denise, instead of arguing with this emphatic teacher, did as he suggested and sat down in a chair. "I'm sorry," she mumbled after a few minutes had passed.

"There's no reason to be sorry, Denise," the soft answer emerged. "Do you want to talk about it? I know I'm a practical stranger, but sometimes speaking to someone you don't know is easier than to talk to a friend."

"I just have a lot on my mind," she said softly.

"It's obvious," came the almost automatic answer. "You look like any other senior girl, worried about college, the future, what will happen around the next bend."

Denise nodded. "I guess," she offered weakly as she looked up at him and then at the piano. "Actually, I'm not really thinking about the future, I'm thinking about the past."

"The past?"

"Yeah, there's a reason I haven't played the piano since I was little," she eventually offered, her eyes filling with tears. "My parents died when I was nine, and right now I really need my mom and she's not here. I guess this all comes back whenever I start to think about going to the prom." She got up and went over to the piano, sat down on the bench and ran her hand across the black lacquered cover. "I remember sitting next to the piano on Saturday afternoons, my mom would clean the house and she would try and keep Dawn and me out of trouble. Dawn got into everything, but I would sit at the piano and just stare at it. My childhood dream was to be a concert pianist, but that died with my mom. I stopped playing because it hurt too much to remember."

"And you never told anyone about this?" He asked.

"No," she shook her head. "It's weird, me telling you this even now, but when I came in here and heard you playing earlier, I remembered a good part of my childhood." Looking down, she could feel the tears as they slid down her cheeks. "I saw all the girls huddled around, and they were looking at you like you were a god or something, it was the same way I used to look at my mom. She would sometimes sit me on her lap, and she would position my fingers over the keys and tell me things about the music I would play. Right before she died, there was no need to try and position my fingers; I already knew where I wanted them to go. I already knew what songs I wanted to play."

"Where are you living now?" He asked. "With an aunt or uncle?"

"No, we live with adopted parents," Denise said. "They were the only ones who took us in, otherwise we would have probably had to stay with foster parents who hated kids," she said as she stood up. "I don't even know why I'm even telling you all this, but I have to go."

"Do you at least feel better having talked about it?" He asked gently.

"No, because all these things I'm remembering, I wish I could just forget," with that she walked slowly towards the door. "I'm sorry, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, she exited the room.

*****

Out in the empty hallway, Denise tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, but walked towards the door marked 'exit'. She did not know why, but she had no desire to stay at the school. She was sick of everything, sick of teachers nosing into her private life, sick of her sister who came off trying to be 'miss perfect', but mostly, she was sick of angels making and not keeping promises.

Grumbling, she continued to walk until she ran right into someone. When she eventually looked up in order to excuse herself, she could see that Tess was present, and the angel was looking at her.

"Denise, well hello baby," Tess said smiling.

"What are you doing here?" she asked without returning the smile.

"Well, I was asked to come here and help Jo's sister with…" her voice trailed when she noticed that Denise had started to walk away. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Nowhere specific, I just have to get out of here," she snapped and stalked away leaving Tess staring after her.

"Oh Father, please help her, she's the most lost of all of these kids here," Tess prayed softly once she saw Denise rounding a corner and disappearing in the distance.

"I know, Tess," a voice emerged and she turned to see her Father standing next to her.

"Father, what are You doing here?" Tess asked.

"I'm posing as Denise's choir teacher," He responded. "She's not to know, so if you talk to her, you don't know Me."

The angel nodded. "Why are you paying so much attention to her? I don't mean to be difficult, but Father, there are other children who need You more than Denise does."

He shook his head. "No, Tess, this is precisely what Denise believes about herself and I'm here to help her get over believing this. Ever since her parents came Home, she has been in the background. Dawn, on the other hand, has handled things through her humor and through her openness. Denise is quieter, and therefore needs to know that she is not the second half of a coin, or that she is only special for helping people like Jo Peterson does, but that she is special as she is. Without noticing this, she will not be able to say good-bye to her friend."

"But, she's blaming You for everything?" Tess said softly.

"I know, but I love her, and I will help her, just trust Me, Tess," the Father said softly.

"I do, but can I make a suggestion?" She asked.

"Shoot."

"Stay away from the coffee in the faculty lounge, it is terrible," Tess said.

"I saw Monica drinking it earlier," He said smiling slyly.

"Yes, but Monica lost her sense of taste after all those jalapenos," Tess said and the Father chuckled. "I have to get back to the guidance counselor's office, Katie will be arriving soon."

The Father smiled and nodded as Tess made her way down the hall in the direction of the administrative offices. Once she was gone, He disappeared only to reappear in the park. He could see that Denise was sitting alone on a bench, her eyes staring at the ground.

Before He could approach her, He watched as Louise Christianson came over and sat down on the bench. Louise had spent most of the afternoon waiting for her granddaughter to be released from the hospital and it looked as though she was in line for even more bureaucracy. She sat down on the bench and glanced over at Denise but did not say anything.

"Do you know what time it is?" Denise eventually spoke. She had forgotten her watch that morning and now wanted to make sure she would not come home too early and rouse anyone's suspicions about her skipping the last three classes of the day.

"It's nearly one," Louise said. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"Uh, I only go half days, I'm sort of on a trainee program," she offered freely, the lie emerging without even a trace of fallacy in her voice and when she looked at Louise, she could detect that the woman bought her story, hook, line, and sinker.

"Must be interesting," Louise said dryly. "So what kinds of things do teenagers do these days?"

Denise sighed. "Well, I sing in the choir, and my friend and I do volunteer work to prevent child abuse."

Louise looked at her angrily, but instead of speaking, the elderly woman got up and hastily hurried away. "What did I say?" Denise asked herself, but she looked up to see that her mother and Andrew were making their way in her direction and she took a deep breath and waited until they had reached her.

"What are you doing out here?" Christina demanded.

"I had…" Denise stammered and after a few moments, she looked at Christina. "Nothing," she said almost defiantly.

"Denise, what is going on with you?" Christina asked, her voice stern and without even looking at Andrew, she sat down and waited for an answer.

"Why does there always have to be something going on with me?" Denise snapped. "You think because you work with kids that you have all the answers, well you don't. You have no idea what I am going through, and you probably don't care."

"Denise," Andrew tried to speak, but one look from the teenager silenced him, and before he could intervene, Christina had started to speak to the teenager herself, her voice a depiction of the extent of the stress that she was under.

"Your sister isn't behaving this way, she's not copping an attitude and she's not skipping school either," Christina responded evenly.

"I'm not Dawn," she shouted. "When are you going to stop comparing me to her?"

With that, she ran away from them leaving Christina staring after her. "I don't know what I'm going to do with her. Every time I even try, she cops this attitude and rebels against me and all I want to do is talk to her."

"Christina, she's not going to call you 'Mom' like Dawn does, and she's not going to be easy to reach because she's Denise, and something is going on with her, something that maybe she hasn't gunned up the courage to tell you about, but she's an 18-year-old girl, and has to make her own decisions about things, and one of those decisions is about whether she goes to school," Andrew said softly.

"I don't know what bothers me more about this, Andrew, the fact that she's skipping school, or that she's sitting on a park bench talking to Louise Christianson," Christina whispered.

"Well, maybe Louise will be affected by teenagers, and maybe she's see something in Denise that she may aspire for her granddaughter. We don't know why it was that Denise was talking to her," Andrew said softly. "We also don't know what it was that could come out of this entire situation."

She nodded as she covered her face with her hands, the tears streaming down her face. "Do you know what's hard?"

"The pressure?"

"Yes," Christina nodded. "I have God counting on me to help Melanie, I have Louise's attitude hitting me like a bus, and I have a daughter who resents me. I don't know why, Andrew, but I get the impression that she hates the fact that her mother has died and I am still here."

"You know that God doesn't exchange one life for another," Andrew reached over and brushed the tears from beneath her eyes. "You know that that is not the Father's way, Christina."

She nodded. "I just don't know how I am going to reach her, or that she even wants to be reached." Sighing deeply, she looked into the eyes of the angel. "Maybe you should get back to Melanie," she offered weakly.

"She's awake now, so I am not really needed," Andrew said gently. "Come on, let's go to the coffee shop and I'll treat you to a cup of your favorite cocoa."

She nodded as she got to her feet and started to walk across the park with him. "I really appreciate you being here, Andrew. But, can't God send Denise someone, I think that she really could use a little help."

"Trust the Father, my little angel, He has everything under control," Andrew smiled gently at her and wrapped his arm around her as they walked.

*****

After running away from Christina and Andrew at the park, Denise had reached a small fairground where a rickety, broken down carousel stood along with various other abandoned wooden structures. She glanced skyward as she walked through this place. It was one of her favorite places because she remembered coming here as little girl with her parents. No one else knew about it, she had never spoken to anyone about it, thus it remained her special place.

She remembered how the place had seen a lot more activity, in fact, today, it looked to be condemned, and she wondered if she was wise to walk around there. The place really had a very strange and almost eerie sensation about it. After a few moments, she concluded that she was safe as long as she didn't climb onto the structures that she would probably not get hurt being in this place.

In the distance, the Father was standing and watching her. His eyes were filled with empathy as He observed her, but He knew that she was in danger being in this place, yet He could understand why it was that she was there. She seemed to be so caught up in this place, her eyes taking it in and finding memories. He concluded that others who were to look at it would not have the same impression of it that she did. He started to walk towards where she was sitting and before reaching her, a gang of boys approached her.

"Hey baby-cakes," one of them sneered as he looked down at where she sat on the ground. His eyes carried a drunken, heavy lidded, leering expression and she immediately got to her feet and backed away from them, all the while trying to keep her voice level.

"I am not your 'baby-cakes', please, just go away," Denise said, but the boys did not disperse, in fact, one of them reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him and looked at her through gleaming eyes as though she was his prized possession.

"Oh, I think you are, what do you guys think?" He asked, as his friends began to chortle and nod, two more of them, taking their calls from their apparent leader and they too got down on the ground next to her, each one of them grabbing her arms and forcing them behind her back. The other boys standing around and laughing as she began to struggle.

"Let me go," she screamed, but when the leader reached over and touched her face, she tried to jerk away all the while trying to keep her composure by not showing them how terrified she was. "Leave me alone…" Her words trailed off when she felt the mouth of the boy over hers, and the disgusting mixture of nicotine and beer could be tasted as she felt the extent of his onslaught.

She continued to struggle with all her might to get away, but when she could not get away, she could feel the breeze underneath her blouse and the hands of the boy touching her. Oh God, help me please, her silent prayer literally screamed out as she felt the extent of terror encompassing her. She had come here to sit and think about all the events in her life, and now she was left fighting against the gruff hold these boys had on her.

Eventually, she could feel herself being pushed back onto the ground, her head ramming against the earth, and growing dizzy, she started to feel as though she was going to pass out. Her eyes began to glaze over, and she started to drift out of consciousness, coming into the place of being between wakefulness and sleep. At this moment, she started to lose her conscious awareness of what it was these boys were doing to her.

Seconds slowly ticked by, but time seemed to have become motionless, as she believed somehow that hours had passed. She closed her eyes, but before these boys could completely violate her, the sounds of an approaching car could be heard in the distance, the sirens growing louder, thus causing the boys to abruptly stop their assault, their thoughts apparently turning to questions centering on what would happen if someone else were to witness what they were doing. As the sounds grew louder, they stopped what they were doing and ran away.

As they dispersed, the Father took on the form of her teacher and came closer to where she was lying there trembling on the ground. She had opened her eyes once again and was trying to pull her clothing back together, but as she did, she also tried to roll herself into a ball, her back now to him.

As soon as he had reached her, he could see that her eyes were fluttering and she was trembling from fright, as well as the cool breeze that now blew. He could tell just by looking at her, that her body was still feeling the extent of the adrenaline rush she seemed to be under, but he crouched down on the ground next to her and wrapped her in his arms.

Feeling this gentle touch, she began to scream, her voice piercing the stillness of the now quiet area. "Let's me go," she cried out, but her voice emerged more or less as a plea. "Please don't hurt me…" she whimpered but unconsciously collapsed into the embrace.

"Shhh, no one is going to hurt you, Denise. You're safe now," he spoke, his voice gentle and she opened her eyes and looked up and into the gentle eyes of the man who was now crouched down next to her.

"M-Mr. Gottlieb," she stammered as she collapsed in his arms. "I was so scared…"

"Shhh, I know sweetheart," he said gently as he pulled her into his arms and held her trembling body in the comfort of his embrace.

"H-how did you know I was here?" She eventually stammered.

Instead of responding, he loosened the embrace, took his jacket off, and wrapped it gently around her. "I'll explain everything to you later, but right now, we need to get you someplace safe, those boys will most likely come back, and if you're here, they will try to harm you again," he cajoled her gently as he got to his feet all the while holding her gently in his arms.

Denise nodded numbly as she buried her face against his shoulder. "I-I w-was so s-scared," she murmured softly, her voice emerging as a sob.

"I know, but it's all over now, and you're safe," he repeated gently. "As long as I'm here, no one is going to hurt you, Denise," he promised softly as he brushed a gentle hand through her hair.

She began to weep bitterly in his arms as he walked in the direction of where a police car was now parked. Seconds later, the door opened and when she heard the voice of one of the men in the car, she cringed unconsciously, but looked up to see that Jeremy was present and he had gotten out of the car. "T-that's m-my…"

"Your adopted father," came the gentle response.

She nodded as they reached the car, her lips trembling as her teacher put her back on her feet and she crumbled to the ground in a heap, all the while unable to meet the gaze of Jeremy. The shame literally encompassed her as she tried without success at making eye contact with him, "I-I…"

"We'll talk about why you were out here and not at school, later, Denise," Jeremy said softly and she nodded when she felt that he had reached over and brushed his hand gently against one side of her face and helped her into the car. At that moment, he looked into the compassionate eyes of the man who had been holding his adopted daughter gently in his arms. "Something tells me she knows you, but would you mind telling me who you are?"

"My name is I.A. Gottlieb, I'm Denise's teacher, Mr. Lowery," came the gentle answer. "I saw everything that happened and when I heard the siren from your car, the gang of boys dispersed."

"Yeah, I figured as much, and I would be willing to bet that it was the eastside gang, they have been terrorizing this neighborhood for months," Jeremy's colleague offered freely. "If it hadn't have been for you, Mr. Gottlieb, then she would probably been killed."

Jeremy nodded, but his face suddenly went pale and he took a deep breath. "Hey, dude, would you mind keeping that to yourself, she's terrified?" He could see the absolute horror that crossed Denise's face upon hearing these words, and once the substitute choir director had gotten into the car, he smiled gently at her. "You OK?"

Denise looked down at her lap. "I'm losing everything, one thing at a time," she whispered, but she looked at him. "I'm scared," she admitted weakly.

He nodded and smiled gently at her. "You're not alone, Denise, you're never alone."

"Yes, I am…" she whimpered as Jeremy got behind the wheel and his partner climbed into the passenger side seat.

"I don't know how to thank you for what you did," Jeremy began as he buckled the seatbelt and started the motor. "You saved the life of my daughter."

The teacher smiled as he stroked the hair of the teenager. "We should get her to the hospital," he said simply and Jeremy nodded as the four of them drove off in the direction of the university hospital.

*****

Ten minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot for the Emergency Room and Denise was immediately taken into an examination room. Jeremy remained outside and in the waiting room; his partner had left to speak with forensic scientists about this case. He concluded that he could do nothing except glance around the room with discomfort in his eyes. His daughter's teacher was still present and he took a deep breath before he started to address him. "You don't have to stay, Mr. Gottlieb, I mean, she will be OK."

"I really would rather stay," came the simple response.

Jeremy looked towards the chapel, but something prevented him from standing up, instead he remained seated where he was, his gaze constantly diverting to the small room. This did not go unnoticed, but instead of speaking of this, he shook his head. "You know, ever since I started working for the police, I knew that I would see this place probably more often than I really wanted to. I finally stopped counting how many times I had come in here, how many near misses I witnessed…" his voice trailed off.

"Like Denise?" The question emerged and Jeremy nodded.

"Yes and for all the times we had seen people survive the not so nice things that happened to them, I was always reminded of those who never came out. I think it was because we had put all our hope and faith into the idea that they might survive, only to witness then leaving us. Every time I would come in here, I would be reminded of all the people in my life who didn't survive, like Denise's brother," Jeremy said sadly as he shook his head. "I just cannot understand why God would make children terminally ill and then snatch them unmercifully from us."

"But, that's not quite accurate, God is mercy, Mr. Lowery, that's why He takes those who are ill Home where there's no pain or suffering, just happiness and joy," the teacher said.

"I try to remember that, but sometimes, like right now, I think it's very difficult to look at things logically. My reason is telling that you're right, but my emotions don't seem to care," he said honestly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not angry with God about what has happened in my life, I am actually grateful. I know that it may sound strange to you, but my sister and I did not have great childhoods, but we got through with each other, and then when I met my wife, I knew that she was the one who had the ability to instill in me faith and hope that I never had." He smiled weakly. "Tell me something, why in all the world am I telling you this?"

"Maybe because you know in your heart that I might understand," came the simple response. "And I do, I know that people have the amazing ability to inspire each other in ways that could only be described as being unexplainable, but to have each other, even if you have to wait a little while is a gift. Isn't that worth the wait?"

Jeremy nodded. "Yeah, it was. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Did Denise ever say anything to you about what has been going on with her? Anything at all?"

"Well, we spoke only once, this afternoon in the choir room," he said.

"What happened to Mr. Travers, I thought he was the choir director?" Jeremy asked.

"He's actually here, he's recovering from tonsillitis. He's going to be back in time for the concert though," he replied. "Now I think I should answer your question. Did Denise say anything to me? Yes, she mentioned her parents and an accident that happened when she was younger. We talked a little bit about families and she and I tried to make a little music, but she wasn't really in the mood to sing."

"She used to sing this one song, it was a really pretty piece, she said it gave her hope, but I haven't heard her sing it in months. She used to find so much solace in music, but now I haven't heard her sing in such a long time, I kind of miss that, it was something that I would hear when I would come home from work. She'd had her Whitney Houston CD playing full volume, she'd be alone in the house, and she would literally lose herself in the music and the lyrics. Sometimes, I'd just sit in the living room and listen to her sing, and I could hear the joy and hope emerging in her voice, and in the words to that song. 'The greatest love of all is happening to me, I found the greatest love of all inside of me'…it was as if the music had taken her to a place far away from here and where it enriched her life in a way that I couldn't."

"That explains why Denise didn't want to sing that song today, she has obviously lost her hope," he said softly nodding with understanding.

"You really do understand her, don't you?" Jeremy asked softly.

The teacher nodded. "Yes, I do, and I know now that she didn't want to think about how children are the hope or the future, because she seems to have too many memories and not very many happy ones."

"Yeah, she's had it hard, much harder than Paula and I did, but she used to love that song," Jeremy said sadly shaking his head. "She would sing it constantly, always wanting the relatives and other people to hear it, always hoping that the music would inspire them in the same way it inspired her. She found something with music, but I couldn’t really relate to it because I can't carry a tune in a bucket."

"Would you like for me to go and check and see how Denise is doing?" The teacher asked as he extended a cloth handkerchief to Jeremy and once the despondent man had accepted it and nodded, he wiped his eyes as the teacher stood up and left him alone.

A few moments later, he glanced up and could see that Christina was coming down the hall in his direction and when she recognized him, she left Andrew's side and practically broke into a run until she had reached the waiting room. "Jeremy, what are you doing here?"

"Denise was assaulted this afternoon, Christina, we got a 911 call this afternoon from a nearby resident. While she was walking around the old abandoned fairgrounds, some of the eastside gang members were hanging around and they found her. Why she was there, I don't really know, but they tried to rape her, and if it hadn't have been for one of her teachers…"

As she heard this, the color drained from Christina's face as a flood of memories seemed to encompass her. She glanced over at Andrew as she remembered a time that seemed so long ago, but a time in her life that she would never forget.

Christina's Flashback

“No, don’t do this. Steve, please leave me alone,” Christina was asleep three hours later, but her dreams had become too real to her, and she had screamed bringing Monica out of the kitchen. The angel could see the girl thrashing around on the sofa.

“Andrew, she’s delirious,” Monica called out and immediately went to the girl and wrapped her arms around Christina. “Oh my, she’s burning up.” Christina was still thrashing about on the sofa even after Monica tried unsuccessfully to hold her. She could see the tears falling from Christina’s eyes.

“Leave me alone,” she screamed as she tried to push Monica away. “Please don’t hurt me…” her voice was filled with what could only be described as raw emotion and Monica released her hold on Christina knowing that perhaps she was unable to help the girl.

“Andrew, could you come out here?” Monica called out to her friend once again. “I think she needs you, she’s frightened.”

Andrew came through the doorway and quickly made his way over to the sofa where she slept. He crouched down next to the sofa, making certain that she didn’t hit him as she was living the reality of her dreams. After a few seconds, he reached for one of her hands and once he caught it, he held it gently but firmly in his own.

“Christina,” he whispered softly. “Shhh it’s just a dream, come on honey, wake up. No one’s going to hurt you; I promise.”

The girl pulled on her hand, but Andrew refused to release it. He continued to whisper to her, his gentle voice starting to replace the nightmare she was immersed in.

“I know you’re afraid; something else happened to you last night, something you don’t want to speak of, that you would rather forget. I can almost sense how much that boy hurt you and the depth of your pain. It’s OK now, you’re safe here.”

Christina stopped thrashing about and slowly opened her eyes. When she saw Andrew looking down at her, she threw her arms around him and began to cry uncontrollably all the while holding tightly to him. “H-he raped me,” she cried hysterically, her voice barely comprehensible. “Andrew, he raped me.” The tears streamed down her face as she looked at him. “Why? Is it because I’m s-so ugly?”

“No Christina, you’re not ugly,” he said gently as he brushed his hand through her hair. “You’re a beautiful child of God, and no one has the right to do to you what he did.”

She buried her face against his chest, the tears falling freely. “I-I’m scared, Andrew, I’m so scared.”

Christina's Flashback End

She looked up at Andrew who was still standing next to her. "Andrew, do you remember?"

The angel nodded, "yes, I do remember. Jeremy what happened, tell us what you know?"

"What's there to tell, she had gone to this God forsaken place and…" his voice trailed off as he looked at his wife. "Christina?"

"I just remembered what happened to me…Oh God, what more should we have to deal with?" She asked weakly as she looked at her husband. "I thought she was going home, she was walking in that direction when she left the park."

"You didn't try to stop her from leaving?" He asked.

"No, what could I have done, chained her to a chair? Jeremy, I thought she was going home, not trolling around looking for trouble," Christina responded before she could stop herself.

Jeremy held his hands up in negation. "All I know is that we showed up there and Mr. Gottlieb had saved Denise from getting into even more trouble than she was already in."

"Gottlieb?" Christina looked at her husband, the color fading. "Jeremy, are you sure that his name was Gottlieb, because that sounds really strange to me?"

"Yes, he was here just a few minutes ago, we were talking before you and Andrew got here, but I was feeling kind of broken up about things, so he went to see how Denise is doing and should be back here in a little bit," he said.

"You're her father, Jeremy, you should be seeing how she's doing," Christina looked at her husband. "Not some crazy hero type who goes around saving people. Maybe you should go and ask the doctor how she is and take the responsibility."

"Wait Christina, you remember who was with you after you had been raped, don't you? It wasn't your parents who were there; it was Tess, Monica, and me. God had sent us to be with you that night," Andrew said gently.

She looked at him and nodded numbly as he rested his hands on both of their shoulders. "Now, maybe the three of us should go sit down and talk about this, but blaming each other is only going to make things worse."

"Butt out, Andrew," Jeremy snapped.

"Jeremy, I know you're upset about what happened, but I am too, and I guess you may have seen what had happened to Denise," when he shook his head, she found herself continuing. "You wanted to save her, didn't you?" She asked.

"Yeah, but I was too late," Jeremy said softly.

"You showed up at the right time, when you were supposed to be there. Seeing her after the attack was probably horrible for you, but Andrew's not at fault for it. Andrew, would God have sent an angel to Denise during this time when she was out there?"

"Yes, He would have, under this kind of circumstance, He would most certainly have done so, it was the same as when Olivia was assaulted and I had been sent to help her," Andrew said.

Christina cringed; she could not help but remember her adopted sister and all the events that had led up to her tragic death. Sighing sadly, she looked at Andrew. "Jeremy said that one of Denise's teachers was there, a guy named Gottlieb. Andrew, is there an angel with any such name?"

"No," he shook his head.

"Then who is this guy?" Christina asked.

"He's the substitute choir teacher, but he's also a hero," Jeremy responded.

"A hero with a strange sounding name," Christina looked at Andrew and then at her husband. "Can we go into the chapel, we really need to talk."

Jeremy shook his head. "I thought you wanted me to go and check on Denise."

"Well, you haven't yet, so I figure that you're still dragging your feet about going. Let's just go into the chapel, and see if we can rehash all of this. Andrew, would you please join us?"

The angel nodded and the three of them went down the hall some distance, stepped inside the small, darkened, room and went to the front where some chairs were located. Christina waited until the doors had closed behind them and once she had taken a seat, she looked at Andrew and then her husband. "Jeremy, I was hesitant about telling you about everything that happened last night, it was after we had talked in the living room about Melanie Christianson."

"Why?" He asked.

"It's nothing bad, in fact, it's wonderful, but you're probably going to think I'm insane when I tell you this, but I talked to God last night," Christina said.

"I don't think that's crazy, I talk to Him all the time, it's called praying," he said smiling weakly.

"No, what I'm trying to say is that I talked to God and He talked to me, like you and I are doing right now. I would say something and He would respond. He was in our guest room last night, in a physical body, and He was telling me that I was the chosen person to help Melanie Christianson."

"I don't know how much truth there is to that," he said shaking his head. "I mean; saying that you can see God, and that you talked to Him, well, that seems just a little bit far fetched for me. I know that we have friends who are angels, but this just doesn't seem possible."

"I know it sounds wacky, but Jeremy, I'm telling you the truth," Christina shook her head. "Do you remember how Andrew looked and carried himself when we had come into the house yesterday? He was a mere shadow of himself, he was so unhappy and it looked as though he had no hope left in the world."

Jeremy thought about this and then he nodded. "Yeah, then he was suddenly happy and everything was like it has always been. This was about an hour or two after you guys had gotten back to the house." Sighing deeply, he looked at Andrew. "Was it during that time, Andrew?"

The angel nodded. "The Father was present in your home, Jeremy, He spoke to me as well as to Christina."

Jeremy looked at Andrew. "OK, but that still doesn't explain what happened to Denise this afternoon, and why it is that she has to suffer in the hands of these lunatics. I'm sorry, but I don't know what to think about all of this. Why did it have to happen?"

"I don't know, but it wasn't God's will for these events to have taken place," Andrew said softly.

"Yes, well, be that as it may, I want to find out who this Gottlieb guy really is, and why it was that he was conveniently present when our daughter had been assaulted," Jeremy said.

Christina sighed deeply. "Jeremy, did it occur to you that the name Gottlieb, translated into German means 'God' and 'love'?

"So, you're willing to give the guy the benefit of the doubt based solely on his last name?" Jeremy asked.

"No, I'm simply willing to give this guy the benefit of the doubt because you said yourself that he is a hero, and no matter how strange or confusing this is for us accept, we cannot, in good conscience, do or say anything that could hurt him, especially since it was him, and not us, who saved Denise's life," Christina took a deep breath, the tears streaming down over her cheeks. She looked at Andrew. "He was like you once upon a time. You, Tess, and Monica came along and helped me when I needed it the most."

Andrew smiled gently at his friend and nodded, but after a few moments, he took a deep breath and looked at the two of them. "There is something else that we need to take into consideration, and that is, no matter how angry or upset you may be feeling towards Denise or what she did, she is still the victim here, and her frame of mind will probably be very, very fragile once everything is taken care of here and she is physically out of danger."

"Why did she go out there in the first place?" Jeremy asked.

"I would guess that she somehow connected herself to this place, and that it probably was her reason for having gone. Sometimes places or things draw people back simply because they provide a sense of comfort to them. Tell me, did you ever talk to the girls after their parents died? I mean; I know you were both completely consumed with what had been happening with Patrick and that is a perfectly understandable rationale, but right now, Denise may not feel as though she is important enough to speak about what is going on with her. There is also something that you both need to know, and that is, right now, in the wake of all of this, her best friend is dying."

"Jo?" Christina looked at him, her face draining of color.

"Yes," Andrew said softly as he nodded.

"I knew that she was sick, but I didn't know that things were reaching that point," Jeremy whispered. "I take it you'll be the one escorting her."

Andrew nodded. "Yes."

Christina looked at her long time friend. "Andrew, what should we do? I mean; between what has happened to Denise, and then Melanie, and now Jo, I think I'm stepping even closer to the brink."

"Well, I can't offer anything more than I already have, but look at where you are right now, maybe now is the time to say something to Him about all of this," the angel said gently.

*****

Denise was still crying when they brought her into the examination room, her eyes closed and she was trembling as she had been throughout the entire examination. As the doctor was nearing the completion of his task, she looked up for a moment, then her gaze returned to her lap.

"You're not in pain right now, are you?" The nurse smiled gently as her words emerged and she regarded the frightened teenager with empathy.

Denise shook her head, all the while her body tense, but eventually, she laid back down on the gurney, her petrified eyes filling with tears as someone tapped on the door and the doctor went and opened it. "There's someone here who wants to see how Ms. Wallace is doing," the orderly's voice emerged and Denise took a staggering breath and looked up to see that behind the man stood her teacher.

"We're all done here, and can probably go ahead and send her back home," the doctor said softly and he looked down at her. "Now, you take care of yourself, and if you need any help, you call the crisis hotline or you call the hospital, OK?"

Denise nodded meekly as the doctor squeezed her shoulder gently and left the room, the nurse following him. Seconds later, her teacher entered the room and she sat up all the while, looking at him. "Y-you're s-still here?"

"Yes, I am," he said softly. "Are you ready to go home now?"

Denise looked down at her makeshift hospital gown. "Mr. Gottlieb, what were you doing out there?"

"The truth is, after you had left the school, I had followed you, because I was worried, Denise. You have been through a great deal of struggles recently, and I thought maybe I could help," he said gently.

"Y-you saved my life," she whispered with shame in her eyes. "I thought this was God's way of punishing me for all the things I said and did…" she said her voice trailed off and she looked down at her lap.

"Punishing you?" He asked gently, his voice filled with compassion. "What ever for?"

"I-I don't know, it just feels that way," Denise said softly as she got to her feet to leave. "Why am I telling you this?"

"Maybe because deep in your heart, you know you can trust me," he smiled gently at her. "Denise, what happened today was not a punishment, it was just an experience, and you can choose to allow that experience to make you stronger."

"You sound like Andrew," she said softly.

"Then Andrew is speaking with wisdom," he said smiling gently at her.

"What does it matter? Everybody hates me now. Christina and Jeremy are probably ready to kick me to the curb for what I did today," she said softly.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Denise, you were the victim of a violent crime, you were hurt and afraid, and no one, not one single person should have the right to blame you for this event," he smiled gently at her. "If they do, then you just send them to me, and I'll tell them what happened, I'll tell them what I saw."

"What did you see?" She asked softly.

"I saw a young girl get assaulted, but I saw her display a great deal of courage," he said softly.

"I'm not brave," she whispered.

"You are, you just don't realize it yet, now then, are you ready to go?" He asked gently.

"I'm probably going to get into trouble, they'll probably all be mad at me, or they will go back to ignoring me again, just like always," she whispered.

"Why don't you give them a chance? You are convinced that they hate you, but what I saw of Jeremy was that he was completely concerned for you. Try and give them both a chance to make things right, you might be pleasantly surprised at how loving they can be," he smiled. "Are you ready?"

"You're going to come with me, but, why? I'm just kid like all the others, I'm nothing special, to anyone," she whispered.

"You are, you just don't know to what extent yet, but Denise, I can promise you that you will know in the coming days just how much concern and love other people have for you."

She nodded and when he handed her some clothing, she went into the adjoining room to change. Once she was dressed, she came back out and looked at him. "Thanks for helping me. I never had a teacher show me that they cared the way you have. I mean, I only met you today, and yet, I feel like I have known you forever."

"I'm not just a teacher, I want to be your friend too, if I may," he said gently.

"You do?" She asked softly.

"Mm-hum, a friendship is a gift," he said gently. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

She nodded and they walked out into the hallway. "Mr. Gottlieb, do you believe in God?"

"Believe hardly begins to describe what I feel," he said smiling gently down at her. "But, yes, I do."

"I used to think that God really cared for me," she whispered as she shook her head. "Now, I know that I'm hardly deserving of anyone's love, much less His."

"That's not true, Denise," came the soft answer.

She wrapped her arms around herself and looked up at him. "It must be, it has to be. Yesterday I said some really horrible things about Him, and now…now it's starting, the punishment is starting." She trembled as she spoke, the fear literally encasing her. "Pastor Stevens was right…he was right…about everything."

Instead of waiting for him to answer, she went to join Christina and Jeremy at the other end of the hallway. They were both waiting, the concern that marked their faces completely changing when they saw her coming towards them. None of them even noticed that the teacher had vanished, but the two adults did not seem to give it a second thought, they were just relieved to see that Denise was going to be all right.

"What happened to you?" Christina asked gently as soon as Denise had reached them and she threw her arms around the teenager, all the while holding her tightly in her arms. "Are you OK, honey?"

"It was stupid, I'm sorry," Denise whispered as Jeremy hugged her as well.

"No, it wasn't stupid, just tell us what happened, Denise," Andrew said gently.

"I went back to the old fairgrounds because it was where my parents took us right before the accident happened. I didn't know those guys were going to be there, I just wanted…" she began to weep bitterly.

"That's what you meant, isn't it?" Christina whispered to Andrew. "You said there was a reason, she was looking for a connection. Oh, Denise, I'm so sorry honey."

Andrew got down on his knees in front of Denise. "Are you OK now?" He asked softly.

She nodded. "I think so, but I'm still so scared."

"I know, you've been through something very frightening today, but you're not alone Denise, you never were," Andrew said softly as Jeremy and Christina nodded. "We all know that you were a victim of a crime, and though we don't know the whole story, we are blessed and happy to know that you are OK."

"Andrew, I'm sorry about what happened last night, I was just scared and I didn't know what to do," Denise said softly as she looked up and into the eyes of the angel.

Andrew responded by wrapping her in his arms. "It's alright, Denise, and I want you to know that I am your friend, I always have been, ever since the day we met."

"I love you guys," she whispered.

"We know, sweetheart," Jeremy said breaking his silence. "Why don't we get you home? Maybe order some pizzas and you can take a nice long shower, and we can start putting this behind us."

"You're not mad at me?" Denise asked, her voice small.

"Not at you, in fact, I think I understand you better than I ever have before," Jeremy said gently. "But, I want you to promise me something, OK?"

"What?" She asked softly.

"Promise me that until my colleagues and I get that band of hooligans off the streets, that you will stay away from the eastside fairgrounds," Jeremy said softly.

"I never want to see that place again," Denise said softly and Jeremy nodded.

"That's my girl," he smiled gently at her.

Christina smiled weakly as she put her arm around Denise's shoulder. "You ready to go?"

Denise nodded, "yeah, but wait a minute, where's Mr. Gottlieb? I mean; he was here a few minutes ago, and now he's gone."

"He probably had to get back to the school for a faculty meeting or something," Jeremy said. "Don't worry about him, chances are, you'll see him tomorrow at school, unless you decide to cut again," his eyes twinkled merrily as he ruffled her hair.

She shook her head sadly. "I won't, but I wanted to thank him."

The three adults nodded, but Andrew could see something in that still was inside of her that left him feeling unsettled. Instead of speaking of this, he followed them to the door that led outside.

Before they reached it, someone from the hospital staff came running up to them, her eyes seeking those of Christina. "Mrs. Lowery, I know that you had asked us to keep you informed on the condition of Melanie Christianson, and although it is not usually our practice to inform others outside of the family of things of this nature, but I wanted to inform you that Mrs. Christianson has just signed the consent forms and Melanie will be transported to our Psychiatric facility tonight. You're services will no longer be necessary for this family and there will be a letter explaining this sent your boss, Peter Harris."

"Excuse me?" Christina looked at the woman, the color draining from her cheeks. "I only had one session with the child. How could someone approve this and so quickly?"

"It was not hard," the woman said softly. "The doctor made a recommendation, and the child's legal guardian approved of it. This situation is out of our hands."

"Out of your hands, that's a fancy of saying, 'let's shove the responsibility onto someone else instead of dealing with it ourselves'," she said, her voice rising in pitch and intensity. "This can't be happening."

"Mrs. Lowery this is not a reflection on you?"

"Like hell it's not, and like I care even if it is," Christina said, the anger building up in her. "I cannot believe that after one single session, that Melanie would be taken out of my care, and then put into the psycho-ward." She looked at Andrew, the helplessness shadowing her face.

Sighing deeply she looked at her husband and covered her face with a trembling hand, but when she turned back around and watched the hospital employee walking away, she spoke, her words directed at Andrew. "What about the assignment? What about what I was supposed to do here? Andrew; that child will die in there, and you and I both know it."

Denise stood and listened, her eyes filling with tears as the realization dawned on her that something else had once again taken precedence over her, instead of speaking, she merely walked slowly away. "I'm destined to stay in the background," she whispered, as she made her way slowly outside.

Jeremy watched her go, his eyes filled with sadness as he looked at his wife and then back at his adopted daughter. Rather than follow Denise, he rested his hand on Christina's shoulder. "It will work out," he said softly. It has to, he added silently, but one look at his wife and he knew what was happening, through Melanie Christianson, she was reliving Ted Gordan's suicide all over again.

*****

Three days later, Jo Peterson looked inside the community center, her eyes filled with sadness. She had wanted to work there, but now she knew that the time for her was running out and she had a list of things to do before she would get that final visit from Andrew. As she sat there in front of the door, she pondered whether or not she should go in. She simply had no energy left, in fact, getting to the center had literally taken the wind out of her already overexerted body.

"Hello," a masculine voice spoke, and she looked up to see a handsome man standing in front of the door. "You're Jo Peterson, aren't you?" He asked softly, his eyes filled with kindness.

"Yeah, that's me," she offered him a tired smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, I read about you in the paper, and thought I would come by and see if I could talk to you," he said. "I'm actually a friend of Denise's, that's is, I'm the substitute choir director, and my name is Mr. Gottlieb."

"Nice to meet you," she said.

"Are you going inside?" He asked.

"I need to, but I have to sort of figure out how I'm going to deal with all of this. See, I have leave the center, my work is sort of being put to the side because I have other things going on. I have to go back into the hospital, and that's why I'm sort of hesitant about telling them. People are depending on me, my friends, family, everyone, and well, I have to quit and I know that that's really going to bum them out."

"You have to do what is right for you sometimes," he said.

"Yeah, that's what I think too," she said as the door to the center opened and Laura Jensen came outside.

"Hey, Jo," she offered softly as she looked at the man standing next to Jo's wheelchair. As she made eye contact with the man, a tremor cursed through her body as an uncanny familiarity overcame her "What's going on?" She asked, her question directed at the man, but he didn't answer, instead, Jo did, and her response catapulted Laura back into the realms of confusion.

"I have to quit my work here, Laura. I don't want to, but…" she sighed deeply, and glanced over in the direction of where Denise's teacher had been standing prior to Laura's inquiries. Much to both of their surprise, the teacher was now gone, and Jo was left pondering if Laura was as baffled by this man as she, herself now was.

"Who was that guy?" Laura eventually asked, the absolute confusion she carried now verbalized.

"He's Denise's substitute teacher, I've seen him around school, but today was the first time I really talked to him," Jo said shrugging her shoulders. "Why?"

"I don't know, I have this weird feeling I've seen him somewhere before," Laura said softly, but when she looked down at Jo, she could see that the teenager had more on her mind than just trying to place people. "So what's going on? I haven't seen you here since…" her voice trailed off and she looked at the girl in the wheelchair. "Well…since…"

"…I collapsed?" Jo asked, but eventually, she took a deep breath and looked at her best friend's older sister. "I have to tell Denise that I want her to take over from where I left off, but it's hard, even after all this time." She took a deep breath as she looked at Laura, her eyes literally imploring the older woman to understand her. "Laura, the truth is, I'm dying."

"Dying?" Laura repeated the word numbly.

"Yeah, I didn't mention this before, but after I collapsed last week, I saw Andrew here, and I asked him directly, no beating around the bush about it, 'tell me straight up, Andrew', I said. 'Am I on my way out?' He looked at me kind of confused, I guess he never heard that expression before. So I asked him if I was dying, and he had no choice, he said that I was and that it would happen very soon. There isn't much time for me, I feel tired all the time, I can't get over here without feeling winded." She shrugged her shoulders. "I know it sounds really bizarre, but I felt a strange sense of peace in knowing the truth."

"Jo, I-I don't know what to say?"

"Happy trails, maybe?" Jo cracked a weak smile.

"I'm not joking," Laura said softly, her voice intent.

"It doesn't phase me even if you are, but I know that it sounds really stupid, but I've been sick for years, and I know that this is just a part of it, but I hate being in pain, and I just want it to stop. The doctors say I have maybe a month, but I honestly don't think it's that much time. I don't even think I'll make it to the prom, much less to graduation," Jo said. "The funny thing is; I'm more afraid of leaving chaos behind than I am of actually dying."

"I wouldn't be afraid of dying," Laura said softly. "When I had my near death experience, I saw heaven, and I saw God."

"You did?" Jo asked.

"Yeah, it was really incredible, and seeing God, I wasn't afraid. In fact, when Patrick died, I asked him to give God a hug for me," Laura smiled weakly. "I think every time someone walks through the door, I wonder if they had experiences like mine, or they would understand how it feels to know God, to really, truly know Him."

Jo smiled weakly and nodded as she watched a solitary figure coming towards the building. This person, she immediately recognized it as being Denise. "I guess now is the time for me to tell her, I have dreaded this moment since I spoke to Andrew last week. Denise has been the best friend I ever had."

Laura nodded and smiled gently. "I know." As her adopted sister came over to where they were standing, she looked into Denise's troubled eyes. "Hey, how you doing, kiddo? Mom called me and told me about what happened, how are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"I guess everybody knows," Denise whispered softly.

"No, but think about it, Denise, we are family, even if we're not directly related by blood, we are related by love, and you're my little sister, and nothing will change that," Laura said gently. "No one else really knows what happened, but I think that it was good that Mom told me, it shows she cares for you and that she's concerned."

"Yeah, whatever," Denise said sourly. "I guess you know that Jeremy said that it was the eastside gang who did this, but it's no big deal, they didn't really rape me, they just scared me."

"What difference does it make? Denise, please, don't push me away, I want to help you, but I can't if you won't trust me," Laura said softly.

Denise sighed deeply. "Look, just stop trying to save me, no one can, it's hopeless," with that she turned and stalked away leaving Jo and Laura staring after her.

"Maybe I shouldn't tell her," Jo said looking at Laura.

"No, you have to, she needs to know the truth, and even though it may be hard for her to hear it, it would be better for you to tell her," Laura said softly. "You can't run away from the truth, Jo, remember what the angels always said?"

"Yeah, but it's hard," Jo said softly. Instead of waiting for Laura to say something, she started to go after Denise. "Hey, Denise, wait up," she called out, and Laura nodded as she went back into the glass-encased building.

"What?" Denise said softly, but stopped and waited for her best friend to reach her.

"I think you already know what all of this is about, but I think it's time for me to make things really official," Jo said softly. "Can we go to the park?"

Denise nodded, and grasped the handles of Jo's wheelchair and started wheeling her in the direction of adjacent park. When they reached the large open space, Denise stopped and sat down on a bench, as Jo began to speak. "I already told Laura that I was quitting at the community center, Denise. I told her that I wanted you to take over and keep the awareness group going. Can you do that for me?"

"But, you can do it, Jo," Denise objected.

The girl shook her head. "You know, I think you know what I'm going to tell you, Denise, I think you already know the truth, but you need to hear it from me, and the truth is, I am dying. I saw Andrew a week ago when I collapsed at the center and I asked him, directly. He said 'yes'. The more I think about it, the more I realize that it's really not an easy statement to make…"

"…I guess I sort of had that feeling last week, I just don't want to believe it," Denise said softly.

"I know, and it's weird, but I'm not scared anymore. I was, but that was a few years ago when I talked to Andrew about it. That conversation I don't think I'll ever forget, it was when he suddenly remembered who he was, right after he had suffered from amnesia," she said softly. "Denise, I don't want you to be sad for me. I don't want pity or anything, I just want to die in peace, no chaos, no struggles, and no fighting."

Denise looked down at her hands. "You're the only person here who understands me, Jo. How can I say good-bye to someone who has been there for me during everything? How can God do this to us? I really hate Him."

"No, you just hate the situation, but you don't hate God. Listen to me, you have friends who are angels, Denise, they spend time with you and your family…" Jo began.

"…That doesn't make them my friends, they are Christina's friends, not mine, they could care less about me," Denise said angrily.

"That's not true, and you know it. Listen to yourself, Denise; this is the chaos I was talking about. I don't want to die knowing that my best friend is in internal emotional chaos. I want you to be happy and to know that the time that we had together was a wonderful and precious gift from God. It was the gift of a friendship, of acceptance, and understanding."

"Why do you suddenly talk like Andrew? Every damn person around here is trying to talk like an angel. First I get into it with Andrew a few nights ago, and then three days ago I get attacked at the old fairgrounds, and the choir director shows up and starts in…"

"Mr. Gottlieb?" Jo asked.

"Yeah, he's nice, but kind of strange, he asks me questions that are hard to answer," she whispered.

"But you like him, and you trust him, don't you?" Jo asked.

"Yeah, he doesn't talk down to me or preach, he just accepts me, and is really nice to me. It kind of scares me, because I'm scared…"

"…Let me guess, you're scared that once Mr. Travers comes back, Mr. Gottlieb is just going to leave, and I am going to die and you're just going to all alone. Is that it?" Jo asked gently.

"I know I'm being selfish, Jo, but nobody seems to care anymore how upside down things are for me."

Jo took a deep breath. "Denise, I do know. I would have to be blind as well as stupid to not notice how this is tearing you apart. You know, I may be dying, but I'm not dead yet, and if there is anything that I have learned from your family, then I've learned about strength and how faith really works. I may not have that much strength to offer you right now and I may be too weak to do anything, but I can tell you that if you lose all hope, then everything that we worked for will be lost. Please, don't lose all hope."

"It's too late," Denise said softly. "I have none left. I don't think there is a way in the world that I could find my way back to God even if I wanted to. Pastor Stevens was right…and I didn't listen to him. Now he's rotting away behind bars and I know that I really should have listened to him."

Jo looked at her friend. "You can't mean that. If God is the depiction of fear and hostility that that man talked about, then when I think about dying, I would only have one thought going through my mind: 'What if all of his rhetoric had been the truth?' What if I died and fell into an abyss like he described so often in his sermons and his attitude towards you and Dawn? I need hope, Denise, not the false prophecies of a man who locked you in a basement, but the hope that emanates from loving God, a God that would send His angels to help me find my way back to Him."

She took a deep breath as she watched Denise get to her feet and walk slowly away. She looked around the park and when she saw that someone was approaching, she immediately recognized it as being Monica. She began to wheel herself over to the angel, her eyes filled with sadness. "Monica?"

"Hello Jo," the pretty auburn headed angel said smiling.

"W-what are you doing here?" Jo asked.

"I was sent here, to help you tie up those loose ends before Andrew takes you Home," the angel said softly.

"Then it's all true, just like he said, I am dying," Jo said softly.

"Yes, you are, but you still do have time," she said gently.

"I know it's probably not much, but now with Denise this way...Oh Monica, I thought I was doing the right thing by telling her the truth."

"Jo, you are doing the right thing. Telling the truth is always the right thing, but it is going to be up to Denise to determine how she deals with this truth. She has to come to her own sense of understanding about it, and in knowing that this will happen, it may help her find the courage to say 'good-bye'."

"I know that she's being selfish, but I can understand why, she's said good-bye to so many people already, her parents, her brother, now me," she shook her head sadly. "You know, ever since I started this project, people have been making a big deal about me, but everyone's overlooked her, they haven't noticed the dedication that she put into this. They probably do this because I'm sick or confined to a wheelchair. I know that she started out working with me on all of this for all the wrong reasons, but Denise made the reasons right through the dedication she had to the project, she started making choices to go through with this project, and as it grew on her, she became more sensitive about things like this then I was. She went through all of the nightmares and the other stuff and she could really relate to the children we worked with. I envied her because she gave the project a sense of understanding and empathy that I couldn't."

"Yes, this is because she lived with abuse, just like Laura and Dawn did," Monica said gently. "Jo, you are a wonderful example of a choice that was made in order to remind people of the plights of other human beings. You and Denise created a sense of goodness and positivity through your work here. This was no accident, Jo, all of these things did happen for a reason, and even though your friendship with Denise only lasted a few years, those few years will leave an impact on her for the rest of her life. Yes, this will be the hardest challenge that the two of you will face. You will have to reach her so that you can say 'good-bye' to her, so that she can find the courage to keep living and to continue the work you both started. Your mother has already agreed to help, but the other piece of this puzzle is going to be Denise."

"Are you going to try and help her?" Jo asked softly.

Monica shook her head. "No, but there is someone else who will help her. She doesn't know this yet, and it is very important that she not yet know."

"So, in other words, you're not telling me anything," Jo said smiling weakly.

"No, I cannot, but rest assured, Denise will eventually hear the message that she needs to," Monica said. "However, she's not yet ready to hear the message and since she knows who the angels are, chances are she's not going to listen to us anyway."

"Is she really so far out of reach?" Jo asked softly.

"Nothing or nobody is ever out of reach of the Father, Jo," Monica said gently. "Sometimes, it may seem hopeless, but believe me, before you go Home, Denise will know what it is she needs to know, then you will have to trust that God will help her make the choice."

"I'll take your word for it, then," Jo said smiling. "Thanks Monica, but can I ask you a favor? Can you help me get back home, my mom and Katie are at a recital and I am not in the mood to take this hunk of metal onto a public bus."

"Sure, Tess just so happened to have loaned me her car," Monica pulled out a key chain and Jo nodded with a smile.

*****

That same afternoon, Christina arrived back at home, the devastation of the days events clearly shadowing her face so much so that Denise's plight and healing had been unconsciously shoved to the back of her mind. As she sat down on the sofa, Dawn came down the stairs and looked at her, the teenager's eyes filled with concern. "What's going on?" She eventually asked.

"Nothing," Denise grumped as she came through the house and went up the stairs and the sound of her door slamming could be heard throughout the house.

"That doesn't sound like 'nothing'," Dawn mused as she looked from her parents to Andrew. "Would someone mind telling me what's going on?"

Christina sighed deeply and looked down at her hands. "I am not only experiencing a crisis at work, but also at home," she whispered as she went into the kitchen. Jeremy followed and Dawn was left alone with the angel.

"Andrew, what is going on?" Dawn asked after a few moments of silence had passed between them. When she didn't receive an immediate answer, she shook her head. "Why is it that this family has suddenly decided to take a vow of silence? I have an adopted mother who is a licensed psychologist, but yet no one is talking in this house. No one says anything, and I am as unhappy and confused as everyone else is, I just don't show it in the same way."

"Dawn, you do have a right to know what is happening," he said after a few moments had passed and he came over and sat down next to her.

"If you're sitting down, then it must be really bad, huh?" She asked softly.

Andrew looked at her, but instead of saying anything, he nodded. "Dawn, there's a lot of things happening around here, a lot of things that people are obviously not fully saying to one another. Let me ask you something, did you ever talk to Denise after your parents died?"

"Not really, we sort of were focused on Patrick, why?" She asked.

"I don't really know what is going on with Denise, but I can tell you this, she apparently has not fully recovered from your parents' deaths, and now she is facing another loss in her life, which is pretty much bringing the past back to her," he said softly.

"Jo, right?" Dawn asked.

Andrew nodded. "Yes, Jo Peterson is dying, she knows it, and now Denise must accept it, but she hasn't yet. Denise is coping with something that is very, very difficult for her and that's probably why it is that she's shoving everyone away. It's not necessarily that she wants to, but I think that it is because she's been hurt so many times, she thinks being alone is probably the best alternative to preventing herself from getting hurt again."

"She's shoved you away too, huh?" She asked.

"She sees in me the finality of everything that has happened to her. I am, in some ways, the symbol of what both of you have lost, and to her, it has become the reality," he said sadly. "She sees me as the Angel of Death first, and then as a friend. It is, for all practical purposes the truth, but this doesn't change that I care, that I want to be a friend."

"You're more to me than just an Angel of Death, Andrew, there is something special about you, something wonderful and beautiful," she said softly. "But, I'll always see you as a friend first."

Andrew smiled as he regarded her. "Thank you," he smiled. "You don't know what that means to me."

"I think I do," she smiled weakly. "It means that you don't have to worry about me getting angry with you, or that you'll have to do something that could hurt me. I know that you wouldn't want to hurt me."

"No, I wouldn't," Andrew said softly. "That is one of the things that makes your family so special to me, you do accept what I am."

Dawn looked at him. "Are you going to help Denise?"

"No, as strange as it sounds, I have been told that someone else is going to help her," he said softly.

"Another angel?" Dawn asked.

"I can't say, but I can tell you this, the individual who will get through to Denise will be someone she trusts, someone who has been helping her but all the while is someone she has no idea that she is receiving help from. She won't know this until it is too late and she has already received it," Andrew said gently.

"I take it that it's someone who is not directly involved in all of this," Dawn asked.

"Well, they are but they aren't, but that's all I'm really able to tell you, so don't ask me anything else, I could get into trouble for spilling the beans," he said, his voice a dramatic whisper.

"How much time does Jo have?" Dawn asked.

"She has enough time to get herself ready for the journey," he said.

"OK, you can't tell me that either, but I just want to know because Denise is my sister, and I need her," Dawn said softly. "I know that I'm not always around, but she's my twin, and we've only got each other. After our parents died, and then Patrick, she and I held onto each other, we only really had each other."

"You have Christina and Jeremy," Andrew said softly.

"I know, but, they can't connect me to my past the way Denise can. I know that probably sounds stupid, but I'm so scared that I'm going to lose my sister in all of this, and after she and I have held so tightly to one another these past years."

Andrew nodded. "Dawn, the Father knows of your fears, that's why He sent us back."

"Us?" Dawn asked.

"Well, yes, there are more than just one or two angels here," he said gently.

She looked down at her hands and nodded. "What's going to happen, Andrew?"

"I don't know, but God does, just trust Him," he said gently.

She nodded as she wrapped her arms around him and held him. "Thank you for being here."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he smiled gently as Christina came out of the kitchen and saw Dawn on the sofa wrapped in Andrew's arms.

"Dawn, I'm really sorry if we've been neglecting you," she offered weakly. "There have been a lot of things happening these past few days, and I guess you and Denise are probably feeling ignored in this.

"No, it's OK, Mom, but what is happening," Dawn asked.

"I lost a patient a few days ago, her name is Melanie Christianson and she was sent to a psychiatric hospital, and, well…it's taken its toll on me emotionally," she offered weakly.

"I guess, but Mom, we have a crisis here, and we need you too," Dawn said softly. "Denise is in some kind of trouble. No one has to say so; I can sense it. She's my twin, and I have to know what has happened to her."

"She was attacked, Dawn," Jeremy said as he came over and sat down next to her. "She was nearly raped by a gang of boys a few days ago, and if not for Mr. Gottlieb from your school, she would have possibly been killed."

"And you waited until now to tell me this?" Dawn shook her head. "I don't believe it. I have been walking around here on pins and needles for days wanting to ask about what has happened, and not daring to say a word because I didn't want to hurt you in any way. Now that I do find out the truth, it's to discover that some kid I never met before in my life takes precedence because she was sent to the cracker factory and it makes you look bad?" She looked at Christina with disbelief shadowing her face. "What had to happen to Denise to make you take notice that she's going through something horrible? Did she have to die or something?"

"Dawn, that will do," Jeremy snapped as he looked at her with anger in his usually gentle eyes.

Instead of listening to him, she looked at the angel. "You see what talking around here does, Andrew? I don't find out that my sister was hurt or is sitting in the middle of a crisis except when she's being used as an afterthought. Its no wonder Denise feels so lousy; the two people who promised to love us both are ignoring her. Do you not remember the pledge you made to us after our parents died, or was your sympathy for Patrick the only thing that kept you connected to us at all?"

With that, she got up and left the room quickly, her eyes filled with pain filled tears of frustration.

Andrew looked at the two of them. "You both have a crisis to contend with, and it is not one that is going to go away by ignoring it."

Christina nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she realized that Dawn had been right, she had forgotten what was important, her family. After a few minutes, she looked at Jeremy and shook her head. "I don't know what to do," she whispered as she shook her head. "For the first time in years, I'm completely at a loss."

*****

Dawn ran into her room and slammed the door her eyes filling with tears as she stared at the wall. She got to her feet and after a few moments she went over to a second door that connected her room to that of her sister. "Denise?" She tapped on the door as her single word emerged.

After a second, the door opened and Denise looked into a matching pair of unhappy eyes. "What is it?"

"Can we talk?" Dawn asked softly.

"Sure, come on in," came the unenthusiastic response.

Once Dawn had come into the room, the door was closed and the two girls sat down on the bed. "I'm sorry I haven't been around, Denise. I guess you think I'm a pretty lousy sister. It's taken me awhile to realize that this arrangement isn't the world's greatest."

"What are you talking about?" Denise asked. "I mean; we do have something good, we have a roof over our heads."

"Yeah, and the world's greatest adoptive parents, two people who think they are the epitome of wisdom because they have angels hanging around, but also two people who think that we are not important enough to tell us what is going on," Dawn said angrily. "Doesn't it get your goat to hear how perfect they are? Do you ever get sick of angels popping into our lives and telling us what to do?"

"They never told us what to do," Denise began.

"No, they didn't, but…" Dawn's voice trailed off. "I just wish I could just run away from here sometimes, forget everything. Don't you wish sometimes that Mom and Dad were here?"

"All the time," Denise said softly. "I went back to the fairgrounds a few days ago. I couldn't help it; I was just drawn to this place. It's like a compulsion. When I tried to tell Christina and Jeremy about it, they were more concerned with the fact that I had gone there instead of trying to understand the connection I had. The place was dark and dismal, and I remembered the bright colors and the carousel and that corny music. Every time I hear the sounds of a circus or fair, and all that doodle-like music, I remember Mom and Dad. I remember how they used to hold us."

"Yeah, then we started going to the Stevens' church and everything changed," Dawn said.

"Did you ever think that maybe Pastor Stevens was right?" Denise asked softly. "I get these ideas that he was and they feel like they are constantly beating me down."

"Sometimes, but I don't think he was," Dawn said softly. "I'm angry, but still, I love Andrew so much, even if he's an angel. I can't get it out of my mind that if an angel is as nice as he is, then maybe God is just as nice, caring and loving, too."

"You know what's funny?" Denise asked. "I used to talk to Andrew about this stuff, and I would ask him questions, but now I don't because I think that he probably is tired of answering them, and he's been kind of avoiding me."

"Has he, or have you been avoiding us?" Dawn asked softly. "I know that you hate me for saying this, but part of the reason you haven't seem me around is because you didn't want to be seen by me."

"I thought you were too busy," Denise said defensively.

"No, I wasn't, I was scared and worried," Dawn said softly, but when she saw anger in her sister's eyes, something told her that she had gone too far.

"You know what I think? I think that it doesn't matter to you; you're trying to be here for me now that you're angry with Christina and Jeremy. Well, I don't have to take it," Denise said softly. "If you really were concerned for me, you would have come before now. Just leave me alone."

Dawn nodded and crawled off the bed to leave the room. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she left the room. Once she had left the room, she went down the stairs and crept from the house. Once she was out on the sidewalk, she walked slowly in the direction of the local deli. She had decided that she would buy a sandwich and sit down and think about what had just transpired at the house.

Sighing deeply, she made her way down the street, her eyes downcast. She had no idea what to do, she had tried to understand all sides of this issue and now she was left with more confusion than ever.

In the distance, Tess and the Father stood. "She's dealing with more than she ever thought was possible," Tess said softly.

"Yes, she is," the Father said gently. "This whole family has been through so much, but the key is going to be Denise. She has a connection to Jo, but she also has a connection to Louise Christianson that may help everyone."

"How, if Louise is intent on distancing herself from everything?" Tess asked.

"It's the same as what Denise is doing, trying to keep herself from getting hurt," the Father said gently. "They have something in common with each other."

"When will You tell Denise the truth?" Tess asked.

"Very soon," He responded. "I will tell her the truth the next time the opportunity arises."

Tess nodded as she continued to watch Dawn. "She's the strongest of the lot, isn't she?"

"She's coming to a crossroads too, My angel," the Father said. "Strength is not entirely defined with how much a person can take, sometimes strength comes from facing events in one's life.

"Are You going to go to her?" Tess asked.

"Soon," He said softly, His eyes still on the forlorn teenager. "Very soon."

*****

The following afternoon, Denise came into the choir room for the rehearsal, her eyes downcast the entire time the rehearsal had taken place. The rehearsal with Mr. Gottlieb had gone over very well, but once the bell rang, she realized that the room was now empty and she was once again alone with him.

He walked over to her and sat down next to her. "Are you alright?"

"I keep thinking about what happened a few days ago," she whispered. "How you were there for me when I needed someone to talk to. I know it sounds really weird, but you were the only person I know of who has been there for me. Everyone else seems to have something else that is more important. I guess, at first, I figured that you would do the same thing everyone else has done."

"No, I suppose I am different because that's not the case," he smiled gently at her. "There are probably others who would listen to and understand you as well. Sometimes in the midst of all these events that are going on in people's lives, they tend to get caught up in their own worries, but I'm sure that they were thinking of you too."

"No, they weren't. Even after I was attacked, suddenly someone else took precedence, and they forgot all about me. Then yesterday, I met my best friend at the park," Denise whispered as she sighed deeply. "She's dying, Mr. Gottlieb, and I don't know what I'm going to do without her."

"Maybe you will need to find the strength to carry on," he said gently.

"But I can't, I don't know how. I'm eighteen and I don't know how," she whispered.

"No, you do know, you've just been constantly reminded of the past. This is absolutely not a sign that you don't know how. You just need to know and understand that, every single person experiences weak moments, and these moments help to make a person stronger. You're strong, Denise, I witnessed that four days ago when you got up off that bed and went out into the world. I knew you were afraid, I could tell, but you need to know that it takes an incredible amount of strength to be able to do that. This isn't just about being strong in the face of diversity and defending yourself when something happens. It goes much deeper because it's about realizing what it is you have always had," he smiled gently at her as he continued. "Being able to express how you feel, when you feel it is also a sign of strength. Being able cry because you're afraid or uncertain is just as much of a sign of strength as standing up to diversity." He noticed at that moment that her head was down, her locks of strawberry blonde hair hanging down over her face. "Look at me, Denise."

Once she looked up, she could see the earnest eyes of her teacher. "You are strong, much stronger than you give yourself credit for being. You are not just someone who sits in the background waiting for the sun to come out, you are the embodiment of something much more prolific, something so beautiful that you don't even realize what your full potential is. But, above all else, I'm going to tell you that God does know."

"I hate Him," Denise whispered.

"No, you don't, for as much as you wish the pain to stop, God's love for you could double, triple, and even quadruple that desire. This expression of God's love is absolutely monumental, Denise. The words you have been told much of your life about God being angry, jealous, and conditional are simply untrue."

"H-how do you know that?" She asked softly.

"Well, tell me, do you believe that a God who created such a beautiful girl as yourself would be angry or jealous? He put a lot of beauty into this creation, and you are that creation, Denise. You don't have to compare yourself to anyone else, not with the other girls in your section, siblings, or friends, just look at you, look at who you are." He smiled gently at her. "You have a lot of special gifts, you can sing, you are kind, giving, thoughtful, and endearing."

"No, I'm not," she whispered.

"Oh yes, you are all those things," he smiled gently as he reached over and touched the side of her face, but instead of it easing her tension, this action caused her to back abruptly and self-consciously away.

"Is that what this is about, you want to take advantage of me like those boys did?" She cried out her hands beginning to tremble.

"No, I would never, ever do anything to hurt you, Denise," he said gently. "That was not done to frighten you."

She looked around the room and after a few minutes, she nodded. "I'm sorry, it's just…" her voice trailed off and she looked down at her lap.

"…You're used to people hurting you, so you thought that you would cut yourself off from them to protect yourself," he whispered.

"Yeah," she admitted weakly. "I used to go to church and the pastor would stand in the pulpit and he would preach about God. We should repent or we would face the wrath of God, that we were terrible sinners and that…" her voice trailed and she lowered her head sadly.

"You heard many untruths about God, didn't you? Letting go of those untruths has been very difficult for you, hasn't it?" He asked gently.

"Anymore, I can't help but think that maybe Pastor Stevens was right, I must be a horrible person in God's eyes," she whispered. "Mr. Gottlieb, how can I become a better person? I don't know how."

"You don't need to know how to do anything, and I want you to listen to me for a minute, Denise. I want you to understand something that is absolutely inaccurate. Pastor Stevens said many things that influenced your life, but when he said that you must earn God's love, or that you were a terrible sinner, he was false. There is absolutely no truth in a sermon that says that God is angry or would hang everlasting damnation over you, all the while affixing these impossible conditions." He looked earnestly at the girl before he continued. "He used God as a means to control, intimidate, invalidate, and hurt those who chose to follow his way of thinking. They chose to follow this path, but that does not take away from what he did to your family as well as to you. The truth is, sweetheart, he was misguided, he thought he knew God, he professed to know God, but he didn't. God is love, Denise, and that love shines in everything the great I AM has created. You are a part of that, little one," he said softly. "You are a part of His divine and glorious creation."

"H-How do you know about all of that? How could you have known this?" She asked softly. "Did you even go to our church?"

He shook his head. "No, I never attended Pastor Stevens' church, but I did know that he used the name of God to instill fear, doubt, anxiety, and insecurity in people, as well as in children like you," as he spoke, he reached over and touched her face with the side of his hand, this time, she did not back away. "You see, God is not one to fear, nor is He the one that will bring you pain. God doesn't thrive on creating pain or unhappiness; people use their free will and choose these things. God is all the love and joy that you wish for in your heart. God is the giver of life, but He does not demand of you more than what you are able to give."

Denise shook her head. "I'm scared to believe that." She looked down at her lap as the tears streamed relentlessly down her cheeks. "God t-took my parents, my brother and now after everything that has happened, I'm convinced that He has abandoned me." As she spoke, she could feel her voice beginning to crack, the emotions starting to get the better of her. "But n-now, H-He's going to punish me by taking my best friend away."

"God isn't taking Jo away from you, Denise, He is offering her a release from the pain of her illness. Yes, I do know about her, she's a very brave young woman," he smiled gently at her.

"Y-you know her?" She asked.

"Yes, I do," he smiled gently. "I know that you are hurting because she's dying, and I know that you have experienced a great deal of death in your life. You have seen far more than most."

"How could you know so much about me?" She whispered. "I mean; this is really starting to scare me."

"I'm not trying to scare you," he said gently as he reached over and took her hands in his. "I can honestly tell you that I know you're hurting. I also know that this place you had gone to a few days ago, was the last place you had visited before your parents had been in that accident." As he looked at her, he could tell that his words were frightening her. "You wanted to go back to that place that marked or signified the life you had before the accident happened, but what happened only succeeded in scaring you and making you feel less secure."

She nodded. "I thought I would be OK out there, it was abandoned, or so I thought, and I spent the last four nights unable to sleep. I was so scared, and every time I would open my eyes, I would be completely and totally alone. I tried anything to make the images go away, but they didn't, they were like a movie that just kept playing back and forth in my mind. Why did this happen to me? Why did everything have to change?"

"Your life is made up of change, Denise, and God knows this. That's why He was present when you were being hurt. It was known that you had found that place to remember and reflect on your parents, on your past, and God did not want to take away the good memories you had of that place. You see, God doesn't take everything and everyone away without leaving something very special behind."

"Yeah," she whispered. "Like nearly being raped."

"No, what was left for you cannot be fully realized by going to an old abandoned fairground. What remains for you is a memory and no matter what happens, that special time and experience will not be taken away from you. A memory secures and enhances, but it doesn't make up the entirety of someone's life. The memories you carry of your parents will always be a part of you until the day God calls you Home. You will see them again, Denise, just as you will one day see all the people that you miss in deepest recesses of your heart. They are not gone, these people are watching over you. More than that, God is always with you because He loves you completely and wholly, just as you are."

"It's so weird that every time we talk, we end up talking about something that is horrible or sad," she tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. "All I know is if God really is out there somewhere, then chances are He must hate me as much as I hate myself."

"He doesn't hate you, Denise, and more than anything, He wishes that you didn't hate yourself," he said softly.

"How do you know?" She asked weakly. "Are you an angel or something? Is that why you are talking to me about these things? Is that why you know so much about me?"

"No, Denise, I am not an angel," he smiled gently at her, "but you can believe me, I wouldn't lie to you."

"I don't know why it is, but I do trust you. Somehow, I don't think you would ever do or say anything that would hurt me," she whispered.

"No, I wouldn't," he said, his words earnest.

"Do you know what is really hard?"

"No, what's that?" He asked gently, his hand now resting on her shoulder and he looked into her eyes. "What is it you want to say? You know that you can talk to me about whatever you want, don't you?"

"I don't know, I just keep thinking about all of this stuff we've spent the last few days talking about. I was thinking about what you said to me about God," she whispered.

"And?"

"I think I would be too scared to actually look Him in the eyes, to actually face Him," she whispered looking down at her lap, her hands unconsciously trembling. "He must be so angry with me."

"Why would He be?" Emerged the soft question.

"I don't know why I just think that He probably sees as big a disappointment in me as I see in myself," she whispered. "He let those boys hurt me, and Pastor Stevens, and…" Her voice trailed off.

"He didn't let this happen, He prevented it from happening," came the gentle response.

"I wish I could believe that, Mr. Gottlieb, but the truth is, I'm scared to. Somewhere deep inside of me, I think that He hates me, either that, or He would just shove me to the side like everyone else has done," she whispered all the while shaking her head. "I know it sounds utterly stupid coming from an eighteen-year-old girl, but I have never been accepted and now because of Jo and the fact that she's going to die, I'm frightened of what will happen next. I feel like I'm falling and no one is there to lift me up, encourage, or hold me." As she spoke, she found herself beginning to sink to the ground, her emotions finally getting the better of her.

He responded by taking her from under her arms so that she could not slide completely to the floor. Within seconds, He could feel her face coming to rest against His chest. Seconds slowly ticked by and He spoke, His voice soothing. "I Am holding you, Denise, I won't ever let you fall, baby girl," He whispered all the while smiling gently. He pressed His lips against her forehead as He held her, these loving words emerging much differently than the cadences of speech she had grown accustomed to hearing.

When she did not look up even after hearing those words, He spoke again, the words encouraging her to make eye contact with Him. "Look at Me, Denise." He brushed a gentle hand through her hair as the walls of the classroom disappeared. When she could feel the gentle breeze blowing in her hair, she looked up and realized that she was now back at the small fairground that she had visited only four days ago. This time the place was filled with life, a new sense with vibrant colors and joyful sounds resonating around her.

Denise eventually managed to look into His eyes, but within seconds, she backed insecurely away from Him, her body once more sinking to the ground, her hands covering her face, the fear completely overwhelming her. "Oh God please don't hurt me, I'm so sorry…" her words emerged in a rush as her body began to tremble uncontrollably, her hands moving to cover the back of her neck, her face now resting in her lap.

"I would never hurt you, Denise, and there is absolutely no reason for you to apologize to Me, sweetheart, you have done nothing wrong," He said softly as He got down next to her, His hand touching the top of her head, the fingers brushing through her strawberry blonde locks of hair. When she did not look up, He spoke gently, His voice cajoling her. "Look up My child and fear not."

"Y-you're…" her voice trailed off and she eventually managed to look up, her eyes filling with tears as somewhere from the deep recesses of her spirit, she suddenly recognized who was now before her. "F-Father, oh please, forgive me…oh God, please forgive me…" Her words emerged in a rush of fear and she shook her head as though in denial of what was now transpiring.

"Shhh, now I want you to look at Me, and don't be afraid," He said softly as He took her face in His gentle hands and tipped it up so that He could look deeply into her eyes. Unconsciously, she closed them, but He spoke, His voice making her open them again. "No, don't close your eyes, sweetheart, you have nothing to be afraid of."

Trembling, she shook her head. "I-I'm scared, please don't hurt me."

"I wouldn't, little one, now come, look at Me, you really have nothing to be afraid of," He said and smiled gently at her.

Denise did as He said, her eyes filled with tears, but she eventually found the courage to make eye contact with Him. "W-why me?"

"Well, the reasons will come to you in time, but let's just say that right now, at this moment, you could really use a friend, and you really need to know just how special and beautiful you are, just by being you. And you are, Denise, the only trouble is, you've stopped believing it," He said gently.

"Y-You saved my life, in t-this place," she whispered looking up at Him, her tears still falling shamefully down her cheeks. "I was so scared…" her voice trailed off and she felt His arms wrapping around her.

"Yes, I did, but life doesn't end when a person dies, My child, life on Earth may end, but the life of that spirit continues forever. This means, there is no real death, because I Am life itself, and if you want to know the truth, so are you." He smiled gently at her, but He could still see the fear in her eyes, and He continued speaking, His voice soft. "I will never turn away from you, and you will never have any reason to fear Me, because life will never end simply because there is no end, it's like a circle, it never ends, simply changes. Your mother, your father, Patrick, they all know this today, because they are Home, and they continue to live on."

"Y-You make it sound nice, but I miss them and it just isn't fair," Denise whimpered softly, her head down.

"They live in your heart, Denise. You see, a memory is My gift to you, when someone is no longer physically with you, all you have to do is remember that person, and then they are not so far away. It's the same with Me, you will remember Me even after I have left."

Denise nodded numbly, but all the while, she could feel the tears streaming down her face. "You're being s-so kind, and I said some really awful things about You. I'm so s-sorry..."

The Father smiled gently as He pressed a gentle finger against her lips. "You know that everyone has, at one time or another, said things that may not have been the nicest or the most kind thing to have said, but I want you to listen to Me for a minute, OK?"

She nodded, but tried to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Sometimes, probably most times, you judge yourself much harsher than I ever could, Denise," the Father continued to hold her tightly in His arms as He spoke. "You see, I love you very much, My child, and I won't ever, ever judge, be angry with, or jealous of you. I will just love you with all that I Am."

Denise kept her head down, all the while, her eyes filling with tears as she tried without much success at finding the words to speak. Eventually, she did, but her words emerged filled with self-incrimination "But, I s-said I hated You, but I really don't, I-I was just scared."

"I know," He smiled gently at her. "I also know that you still are afraid of Me, but we're going to get through this together and by the time I go back Home, you won't be afraid anymore. OK? I'll only physically leave you when you are able to make eye contact with Me for more than just a few seconds."

"Y-You mean, You're not leaving me?" She asked softly.

"I never really do leave, Denise, but there is still something that I need to do, for you," He smiled gently.

"W-what?"

"You'll know when the time is right, trust Me," He smiled gently at her as they returned to the choir room. "Now, we have work to do, don't we?"

"Work?" She looked up at Him. "I-I don't understand."

"Well, I still need to explain a few more things to you," He smiled at her. "You do have questions, do you not?"

"I-I guess so," she said as she shrugged her shoulders unconsciously.

"Denise, don't be afraid of Me, OK? Remember, you can talk to Me about the same things you talked about when you thought you were speaking to a teacher," He smiled gently at her. "I still Am your teacher, just not only in music." She smiled despite herself, and He continued. "Now, that's what I like to see, I gave you such a beautiful smile."

"I-I just can't believe that You'd come here to see me, I mean; Y-You're God, and I thought…" her voice trailed.

"…You thought you'd only be connected to Me through My angels?" He asked gently.

"Yeah, my sister and I thought that they were only around because of Christina," Denise said softly. "We thought that they didn't care about us, that we are just the consolation prizes for Patrick."

The Father shook His head. "No, you're just as important as Patrick, Denise, and just because you are shyer and quieter than your sister doesn't make you any less significant in My eyes. You're still My child."

"'God don't make no junk'?" She asked meekly using an old saying she had often heard growing up.

He chuckled softly. "No, I don't, every creation is like an invaluable gift," He smiled gently at her, His hand brushing the strawberry blonde locks of hair out from in front of her face. "Do you feel any better now?"

"A little, I mean, I'm still overwhelmed, I have a lot of questions, but no answers," she whispered.

"Well, then, we should get started, we have about thirty minutes left of the period, so go ahead and ask Me whatever you want," He smiled gently at her.

"Where did You come up with that strange name?" She asked.

"Well, the name Gottlieb translated back from German into English is 'God' and 'love'. Seems fitting, doesn't it?" He asked gently.

Denise thought about it and nodded. "I guess so, but what are You really doing here? I mean; teaching a rowdy choir of high school kids seems beneath You somehow."

He smiled but shook His head. "There is nothing beneath Me, My child, but this was a means in which I could reach you, through that which you love dearly, music."

"You mean, You really did all this for me?" She whispered. "Substitute teacher," she shook her head. "If the others knew then they would freak out…that or have me committed. I guess this is going to have to be a secret huh?"

"Mm-hum, between you and Me," He nodded smiling, but His face suddenly grew earnest. "Denise, you are very special to Me, not just because you are needed and important here, but because of who you are in here," He pointed to her heart. "That is where the value and the gift is, but I also need to ask you to do something for Me."

"M-me? B-but, what can I do?" She asked weakly.

"You have come into contact with a number of people here who need My help," He said gently.

"Who?"

"Your friend, Jo, is one of them, your sister, and Louise Christianson. She was the lady you spoke to a few days ago on the bench in the park. You will be in touch with others in the coming days, but remember, no one is to know who I Am, OK?" He whispered. "Once this starts, you will see how much of an affect you will leave on people here."

Denise could unconsciously feel the tears in her eyes. "Jo's really going to die, isn't she?"

The Father nodded and when he saw the girl begin to sob uncontrollably, He wrapped her in His arms. "She's in a lot of pain, baby girl, she needs to rest, but she also needs to know that you and her family are all going to be OK after she comes Home."

"But I won't be…" Denise managed to whisper, her voice filled with sadness, her voice trembling unconsciously as she spoke.

"You will, that's part of the reason why I'm here, Denise, I'm going to help you find the courage to let go," He smiled gently and with one arm still holding her, and she could feel His gentle hand brushing the tears away. Yet the more His fingers brushed the signs of her sadness away, the more dampness seemed to appear in its place, the drops of moisture streaming now over His hand.

"You're going to leave me too, just like everyone else," she said trying to break out of His embrace, but when He didn't release her, she buried her tearstained face against His shoulder. "I don't want to be alone, Father, I don't want to be alone…" her words repeating in rapid succession until He moved His other hand and touched her cheek gently with the side of it, the tears now streaming down over both of His hands.

"Shhh, I'm not going to leave you, Denise. You may not always see Me, and you may think that I have gone away, but I'm always with you, My darling girl. Believe Me, what Pastor Stevens said to you and Dawn was an untruth, it was the most damaging words that could have possibly been said, and these words eventually hurt you in the most profound way possible, because they separated you from Me. But, I've always been here, Denise, and I won't ever stop loving and caring for you."

She looked up, her eyes puffy from the crying she had done, but she reached a hand out and touched His face. "Father, please forgive me…" She whimpered, her voice still trembling.

"There's nothing to forgive, Denise," He said gently. "That would mean that I only put conditions on things, but that is not the case."

"I…" she whispered, her voice cracking.

The Father merely took her in His arms and pulled her into His embrace, her tearstained face now pressed against His shoulder, His hand brushing through her hair.

*****

At that moment, Christina was sitting in her office in a large chair looking over a group of files. She stared for some moments in silence down at the paperwork that she had before her, her fingers drumming almost incessantly but also unenthusiastically on the mahogany surface of the large desk. It had been established that over the course of the past four days, she had lost some of her deeply embedded passion about her work. A few moments later, she could hear the sounds of footsteps and she realized that someone had come unannounced into the office. Instead of raising her head, she stared down at the files, in the hopes that the unexpected visitor would see that she was busy and leave back the way they had come.

"Christina?" The deep voice emerged from her visitor and she looked up.

"Adam, what are you doing here?" She whispered, her voice literally catching in her throat.

"Andrew asked me to come," Adam began, his voice soft. "May I sit down?"

"Sure, but why didn't he come himself?" She asked.

"He's been on assignment and I dare say that he couldn't face you right now even if he wanted to," Adam's response was soft, but she watched as he pulled a cloth handkerchief from his pocket and looked at her almost anticipating giving it to her. "Christina, I don't know how to tell you this."

"It's about Melanie, isn't it?" Christina asked weakly, her voice unconsciously cracking, the tears catching in her eyes before the angel could tell her what he knew.

"Andrew went to see her this morning, and I'm afraid that he had no choice but to take her Home around noon," Adam said softly. "I'm sorry, Christina, but Melanie's dead."

Christina looked at him all the while shaking her head, the denial evident in her eyes, and she took a deep breath, her voice full of denial. "No, that can't be, No, Adam, tell me it's not true, please tell me its not true." She repeated these words as she got up from the desk and came around it, her body literally stumbling into the arms of the angel. "I just don't believe it, I can't," she whispered as the tears began to once again stream down her cheeks. "Please Adam."

He shook his head. "You know that I cannot lie to you, because it did happen. Melanie was in so much pain near the end, but there was something wrong with her, she had an allergic reaction to some of the medications that she had been given. I was told to come see you once Andrew had gone to her, he was with her when she stopped breathing."

"How did this happen?" Christina asked weakly. "When Andrew told me that Melanie would not survive in an institution, but I didn't want to believe it. I wanted to have a chance to help her, to make some sort of difference to her."

"I know you did, and the Father knows as well, but what happened was completely out of your hands. Christina, I have to tell you that there's more to this story than just what you may have heard from Melanie or Louise Christianson, there are more people involved, and there is another life at stake."

"Another life?" She looked at him as if he was kidding, but when his gaze didn't falter, she continued. "Adam, I tried so hard, I told Mrs. Christianson not to send that child away, I would have taken her in myself…" her voice cracked. "What does God want me to do now."

"Heal," Adam said simply. "That and help the other lives that Melanie's abuse affected."

"That's it, if He knew I was going to fail with Melanie, then who's to say that I won't fail with someone else? I have already let that child down, and now you're telling me that He wants me to 'heal' as if that's such an easy thing to do. This isn't like going and picking a dress out for a cocktail party, this is like finding my way again, because I've lost it, Adam, I have honestly lost it," Christina shook her head, her words emerging filled with contempt.

"I know this sounds like He's asking a lot of you," Adam began.

"…No, of course not, He is only showing me the extent of His warped sense of humor," Christina said softly. "First He tells me that I have to take on this case and help a child out, only to snatch this child away before I could even begin to help her, and then He decides to send someone else to me. Well, I don't want it, I have already failed Him once, and I am not keen on going through that emotional hell again. Just tell God that I can't take anymore, that if He wants to find someone to help, then He damn well better ask someone else, because I can't take anymore."

"Christina, He did help, He took her pain away," Adam said gently. "I know that this doesn't help you, but it's the truth."

"Why didn't Andrew come and tell me all of this?" Christina asked softly.

"Because although he may not be willing to admit it, he's just as broken up about all of this as you are," came the simple response. "He wanted me to come see you and tell you what happened. He knew that this would be hard for you to take."

"Did he tell you about the Father paying me a visit?" Christina asked softly.

Adam shook his head. "No, he didn't, but it could be that I wasn't meant to know about all of these things."

"He was there, bigger than life, seated in my guest room at home, and He told me that I was to help this little girl, but now…now she's dead." She took a deep and staggering breath as she continued to speak. "I know it's not my fault, and I know that she's in a better place, but I hardly got a chance to even try to help her. I didn't even get one single solitary chance to try. I just want to know what kind of malicious and sick joke is this?" Christina looked at him. "Tell me, damn it; just tell me, I really want to know." As her voice increased in pitch and fervor, she looked at the angel. "How could a loving God allow this to happen?"

"I wish I could answer that in the manner in which you wish to hear, but I can't tell you anything else than what I have already tried to tell you, Christina, that will have to suffice," Adam said softly as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Well, if you can't then what good is it doing that you are even here?" When he didn't answer, she looked at him, her eyes filled with anger and hostility. "Then just get the hell out of here and leave me alone," she shouted. She closed her eyes, but after a few moments, she opened them and looked around the now empty office. The tears were still streaming down her face, her eyes now swollen and puffy. Ignoring them, she went over to the desk and began arranging the papers, her back now to the door.

"Excuse me?" A soft voice emerged, thus causing her to look up and eventually turn around. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and saw a soft-spoken young girl who looked to be no older than fifteen or sixteen-years-old standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in? Can I help you?" She asked softly all the while trying without much success at getting her emotions in check.

"I'm not sure," the girl answered. "My name is Hope Christianson, I'm Melanie's cousin."

"Why are you here?" Christina asked weakly as she dabbed the corner of her handkerchief against her eyes.

"I heard that my cousin had talked to you before my grandmother had sent her away, but I wanted to come talk to you. You see, even though my parents know where I am, and they approve of me being here, they don't know everything."

"I see," Christina said as she continued to wipe the last of the tears from her face and regarded the young girl with empathy. There was no denying that Hope was telling her the truth, she had some striking similarities with Melanie. She had the same long blonde hair and doe-like brown eyes. Her mannerisms were the same as Melanie's, Hope would fidget from one foot to the other in the exact same way that Melanie had done during her one brief session with the girl.

Swallowing the unconscious lump that formed in her throat, Christina motioned towards the leather sofa that was against one wall of the office. "Come on in, sweetheart," she offered softly. "I only hope that I didn't frighten you just now."

"No, I've seen grown ups cry before," Hope responded as she sat down on the leather sofa next to her. "My dad is the older brother of Melanie's dad. I need your help because I'm kind of in trouble, and I don't know where else to go."

"Why my help?" Christina asked weakly. "I'm not sure I'm capable of helping anyone at the moment. I'm curious though, where did you hear that I was the best person to help you?"

"This is going to sound really weird to you, but someone who identified themselves as Tess called my parents' apartment this morning and she told me that I should come here today and try to talk to you," Hope offered meekly.

"Tess is a very good friend of my family," Christina confirmed. "Yet, I still don't know if I am the best person to help you, but why don't you go ahead and tell me what is happening with you and I'll see what it is I can do."

"It all started about a week ago. Melanie had left me this letter at my house a week or so before her parents had been arrested and she had been sent to live with our grandmother, she told me about everything that happened," Hope whispered shrugging her shoulders. "When I read the letter, I was really scared, not just because of how my parents would have reacted, but that my grandmother had found out about it, and I think she thinks she could get into trouble if the wrong person finds out about it. I'm scared to tell anyone about it, but I'm also afraid that the wrong person could get their hands on it." With trembling hands, Hope handed her the three sheets of notebook paper.

Christina carefully unfolded them and as she began to read, the color quickly faded from her cheeks as absolute horror replaced the hopelessness that she had earlier carried.

Dear Hope,

You are the only person who knows about what has happened to me, you are the only one I trust enough to tell what is happening. My parents got involved in this new group on the internet about three years ago…

As she read one horrifying paragraph after another, Christina suddenly realized that this letter contained a very vivid account of the abuse that Melanie had endured over the course of the time she had lived with her parents, but also how Louise had knowingly enabled the abuse to have actually happened. By the time Christina had finished reading, her face was streaked with tears. "She said that your grandmother allowed this to happen in her own home."

Hope nodded with obvious sadness in her eyes. "Yes, see that's why my parents and I broke all contact with her as well as my uncle and aunt. I was still in contact with Melanie, through letters and Tess said that she knew about us exchanging letters and she convinced me that if I wasn't going to tell my parents about it, that I should give it to you and ask you to take it to the police. She said that you were connected to them, and that they would listen to you…"

"That's true, my husband has worked for the police as a sketch artist for years now," Christina said softly. "What else did Tess tell you?"

"She said that you were nice, and that you wouldn't hurt anyone, that you really care for other people," Hope said softly as tears caught in her eyes. "She knew that I was scared, but she said that if I really loved my cousin, than the best way I could help her would be to tell someone about this letter."

Christina smiled and nodded, her eyes filled with sadness. "Yes, she's right. It would be a shame for Melanie's death to have been in vain."

Hope nodded as she began to cry softly. "I loved my cousin, Mrs. Lowery, but I was scared to show anyone the letter. Now I think that if I had done that, them Melanie wouldn't have died, and that…" her voice trailed as the tears continued to stream from beneath her eyes. "It was just that I was afraid that I would get into a lot of trouble. Now, my cousin's dead, and it's all my fault." As she finished speaking, Christina noticed the extreme amount of guilt the teenager carried. She reached for some tissues that were on the nearby table and pulled some from the carton and pressed them into Hope's now trembling hand.

"No, sweetheart, you're not at fault for what happened," Christina said softly. "What does a teenage girl do about things like this anyway? You, like Melanie, both needed someone to protect you, not live with this kind of guilt." As she spoke, she could feel her own emotions getting the better of her and she reached for some more tissues. She noticed that instead of wiping her eyes, Hope was wringing the tissues in her hand without speaking. "Look at me now, that's it," she said gently as she took one of the tissues she now held and wiped it gently over the girl's tearstained cheeks. "Now, tell me, where are your parents?"

"At home," Hope whispered.

"I see," Christina mused more to herself than to the girl. "Do they have a cell phone, I think it might be a good idea to let them know what has been happening."

"I told them where I am," she whispered as she pulled a small card out of her pocket. "I promised them that I would take the bus back home after I finished and that I was coming to see you. Even though they don't really know why, they seemed cool with the idea after talking with Tess. Mrs. Lowery, I know I should tell them what this is all about, but I'm afraid to."

"I understand, but I'm going to have to call them, and then I think it would be best for us to take your letter and go to the police," Christina said gently. She dialed the number, but when she discovered that the line rang without being answered, she sighed deeply. "I think the only option left open to us is to call the police."

"I'm scared," Hope whispered.

"I know, but I won't let anyone hurt you," she promised. "You see, Tess, the lady that called you and your parents is a very dear friend of mine, she can be trusted. She would never have sent you to see me alone, especially if she thought that I may have posed some sort of danger."

Hope nodded. "Can't we just ask the police to come here?"

Christina thought about this and nodded. "That's actually not a bad idea." She picked up the phone and dialed. When the line was picked up, she spoke. "I need to speak to Jeremy Lowery please," a pause, "yes, this is his wife. OK, I'll hold, but please tell him it's important."

Within seconds Christina had her husband on the line. "Yes, Jeremy, Hope Christianson is here. Yes, she's Melanie's cousin, and I think you should get down here as quickly as possible, she has shown me something that could be very important regarding the child's death and could also cast a great deal of light onto this entire situation."

"You know about that?" Jeremy practically shouted. "I thought I would have to tell you tonight when I got home. How did you find out?"

"Adam came by earlier this afternoon and told me about it. He told me that it happened at the hospital and that Andrew had been there."

"Yeah, but nothing is going to be established until the autopsy and the coroner has established the real cause of death," Jeremy said.

"They don't know yet?" Christina asked.

"No, but according to sources, there were traces of poison on and around Melanie's pillow, so if it's murder, we may have a very hard time proving it," Jeremy said. "I just have this strange feeling that this case isn't going to be over for a long time."

"Jeremy, I think that maybe you should come down to my office and pick up this letter as soon as you are able," Christina said softly. "I know this sounds crazy, but after you get this letter and Hope goes home, I desperately need to go and find Andrew."

"OK, but where do you suppose he could be?" Jeremy asked softly.

"I have no idea," Christina said, but within minutes, she had made certain that her husband would be coming there and that he would bring her and Hope something to eat for lunch. Once she hung the phone up, she took a deep breath and looked at Hope and noticed that the teenager was now looking down at a small notebook that was on the table, her pale hands reaching out and taking the object.

Eventually, Christina looked back over at the girl, who had, by this time glanced up and smiled weakly at Christina. "You write stories about angels?"

"Yes, I have been writing these kinds of stories since I was probably about your age," she offered. "I started thinking about angels and God when I was seven years old." Sighing deeply she continued speaking, this time, she completely changed the subject. "Hope, my husband is going to be here in a little bit, he will take the letter to the police, and they will verify that it is in fact in Melanie's handwriting. I know that this sounds very strange to you, but if they establish that Melanie wrote this letter, then your grandmother could face criminal charges."

"She did write it, Mrs. Lowery, I wouldn't lie to you about it," Hope whispered. As she spoke, she looked down at her lap as the shame was literally encasing her. "When I went to visit them two years ago, they abused me too, I was fourteen at the time."

"They abused you too?" Christina asked, not hiding her shock.

Hope nodded sadly. "While I was at my grandmother's house two years ago, so were my aunt and uncle. I'm scared of my grandmother, Mrs. Lowery, the last time I saw her, she had forced us to take these pills that I didn't want to take. After I woke up later, I found an old pill bottle on the floor, smuggled it into my backpack, took it home, and showed it to my mom. She's a pediatrician by trade, so I figured that she would know what that was. Anyway, she looked at the bottle and asked me where I had gotten it as it was a highly potent sleeping pill. Of course, she wanted to know where specifically I had gotten the bottle, and I told her that my grandmother had forced me to take two of them."

"What happened then?" Christina asked softly.

Hope began to cry softly, but after a few moments, she looked at Christina. "She got really mad, at first I thought with me, but then she said that she would have to talk to my dad about it and she basically said that there was no way in hell that she would allow me to come in contact with my grandmother again."

Christina rested her hand gently on Hope's shoulder. "I wouldn't blame them for their concern, sweetheart, people can die from sleeping pill overdoses. I do have a question though, how on earth did your grandmother get prescription medication in the first place? Most doctors would not give out high strength sleeping pills willingly, in fact, most of them are rather good at dragging their feet about such things."

The teenager shrugged her shoulders. "She was a nurse at the time, and she would force us to take pills and stuff, she said it helped us to sleep better, but I still didn't want to, it was the middle of the afternoon when it happened. I remember feeling dizzy some time afterwards, but that when I would wake up, I remember being in so much pain."

"I'm so sorry," Christina whispered.

"Now that my aunt and uncle are behind bars, my parents finally made the decision to stop home schooling me. I missed not being in touch with other kids, and so they talked with me last week and decided it was time for me to go back to public school. I'll be starting in a day or two, but I have to admit that I'm scared, because bad news does travel fast and people here will probably hate me," Hope whispered.

"Not everyone, Hope," Christina said softly. "People are just afraid, they don't know how to deal with the questions they have and they tend to respond to others through their own internalized fears."

"You really tried to help Melanie?" Hope asked.

"Yes, I did, and my friend Andrew tried to as well," Christina smiled weakly.

"Andrew?"

"Yes, he's a very good friend of mine," Christina offered softly. "He and I actually met back when I was seven-years-old and since then, we've been through thick and thin together."

The young girl looked around the small office and then back at Christina as she fiddled the small book in her hands. Eventually, she spoke. "Mrs. Lowery, do you believe in angels? Like the ones you wrote about in your stories?"

"Yes, I do," she smiled weakly.

"Would you believe me if I told you I saw one?" Hope asked softly.

"When?" Christina asked softly.

"Two years ago, it was when everything happened," Hope whispered. "There was an angel next to me, and as strange as it may sound to you; he was crying. I don't know if he was an angel, he seemed not wanting to hurt me, but he looked like an angel. He was tall, had really nice eyes, and his hair was very pretty." She suddenly shook her head, her eyes downcast. "I wondered later why he left so suddenly and I had been alone."

Christina swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, but eventually she looked at the girl and spoke, her voice soft. "How was he dressed when you saw your angel?"

"He had white shirt and a beige jacket, and there was this light all around him, it was beautiful," she whispered.

"Then I am certain that who it was you had seen was an angel," Christina nodded.

"How can you be so certain that angels exist?" Hope asked softly.

"I can't give you solid proof, but let me ask you a question. How did you feel when you saw this man?"

Hope shook her head. "I don't know, I felt calm, but still scared. Then when I was fully awake, I realized that he was gone. He was so beautiful, and I couldn't help but figure that he was gone because I felt so ugly." She took a deep breath, her voice wavering. "I sometimes wonder where he is now because I really need him."

"I know, and something tells me that your angel really is going to need you too, and very soon," Christina said gently.

Seconds later, the door to the office opened and Jeremy came inside. "Hi," he said smiling with a couple of bags of food. "I'm here."

Hope, upon seeing him unconsciously cringed, but relaxed somewhat when Christina looked up and smiled, as she extended her hand to him and watched as Jeremy walked over and accepted it.

"Jeremy this is Hope Christianson, and I think you need to talk to her. I have to do something very quickly, but I'll be right back," she smiled at the teenager. "Hope, this is my husband, Jeremy, and he's going to talk to you for a few minutes while I go down the hall, OK? Go ahead and help yourself to the food."

"OK," the girl responded and Christina left the office and closed the door behind her.

Once Christina was alone in the hallway, she began to speak, her voice filled with remorse. "Adam, please come back, I need your help. I'm sorry I got so angry with you, it wasn't intentional and I know that you're not at fault, I was just so unhappy because of what you told me, but now that little girl needs an angel, and I can't deal with all of this alone."

"Baby, you have been doing everything that you've needed to do, don't give up now," Tess' voice emerged and Christina turned around practically stumbling straight into the angel's arms.

"Tess, please, I need Andrew's help, I really do; can't you tell me where he is? If he sees Hope then maybe this whole thing will become easier for him to bear," Christina cried.

"Baby, Andrew wasn't with Hope two years ago, in fact, he's never met this little girl. The angel you need to see is Adam, he was the angel assigned to Hope back when she was abused," Tess said gently.

"Adam?"

"Yes, both of my angel boys have been in touch with this family for a number of years, and sadly, this is not something that will end anytime soon," Tess said gently. "Christina, I want you to trust in God's plan, OK, baby. The next few hours are going to be very, very difficult for all of you."

"Yeah, and like a moron, I threw Adam out, I didn't mean to, I was just…it's just…" Christina's voice trailed off. "Tess, what should I do?"

"Shhh," the wise angel cajoled her gently. "Now, I'm going to get Adam because he needs to be here and very soon, so you can bet that I'm going to send his happy little angel butt back here. Once that happens, I'm going to go and find my other angel boy and send him to you, but you should know that he's still very unhappy about what has taken place with Melanie."

"I am too," Christina whispered.

"I know, and Andrew and you both need each other, just like Hope needs Adam. Now don't you worry, you leave everything to old Tess." With that the angel disappeared and Christina wiped her face with her hand and returned to the small office.

Once she came inside, she could see that Hope was devouring one of the cheeseburgers that Jeremy had brought. For his part, Jeremy had taken the letter and put it in a plastic bag. "I brought you something to eat as well," he offered gently, but Christina shook her head, her appetite completely gone and she watched as he stood up. "I know that I would be sounding too much like your mother for saying this, but you need to eat."

Reluctantly, Christina sat down on the sofa and unwrapped the second of the burgers and bit into it as though she was eating a piece of cardboard. "I'll run this back to the station," he eventually offered and she nodded. "You will need to arrange with Hope and her parents to come by the station and leave a statement about everything they know. Now, I know that's kind of scary for you, Hope, but it will be the only way to insure that those who have hurt you will not be given the opportunity to hurt another child, OK?"

Hope nodded warily, but said nothing, instead, she kept her attention on the burger that was quickly disappearing.

Once Jeremy had left, Christina looked at her. "I guess you are like me, sometimes you go without breakfast." She handed a napkin to the girl and watched as she wiped it over her face.

Christina continued to pick at her food and eventually cast it aside. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, but I wish…" Hope's voice trailed.

"You're thinking about the angel again, aren't you?" Christina said softly. "Sometimes it's a comfort to have someone take you in their arms and hold you."

Hope nodded. "He didn't hold me, he just looked as though he wanted to…I wish he had."

Before any more words could be exchanged, Louise Christianson stormed into the office. "What do you think you're doing?" The elderly woman shouted her eyes not really on one or the other of them, but her eyes were literally bulging, and one didn't have to be a trained professional to know that nothing that was happening was going over well with the woman.

Hope's eyes immediately went wild and she got to her feet, backed away, but all the while she looked into the angry bulging eyes of her grandmother with fear and mistrust evidently showing. "Stay away from me…" She extended both of her hands towards the older woman with the intention of keeping her distance. "S-Stay away from me…" her words repeated, she backed against the bookshelf of the office as Louise started to walk closer.

"I want that letter you little wench," Louise seethed and Christina reached for the phone and pressed the secret code numbers that would indicate to their answering service that something was not right.

As she discreetly replaced the receiver, Christina intervened, her eyes locking with those of the woman. "Our service has been notified, and I think you should go," she said calmly. "Hope is waiting for her parents to come get her."

"Her parents are dead," Louise snapped. "She's now in my care."

"Just like Melanie ended up in your care?" Christina challenged, all the while shaking her head. "I don't believe you."

"It makes no difference if you believe me or not, I don't need that to take my granddaughter out of your hands," Louise shouted.

"I know what happened Mrs. Christianson, I know that Melanie's death was not an accident, and when the coroner gets finished with the autopsy, they're going to know too. Now, you can either leave this office, or I will call the police."

Louise looked at her. "Mrs. Lowery, do you even know what kind of lying wench you have in your office?"

"I have a frightened child in my office, Mrs. Christianson, now if her parents are deceased, then I will find out, and I will file a petition with the city to become a foster parent. I've done it before, and I'll do it again," Christina said evenly. "Now, I think you'd better go."

Louise said nothing, instead, she dug in her purse and pulled a gun out. This she cocked and aimed at Christina's chest, "And this says, I'm staying."

Christina took a deep breath and backed up, but instead of speaking, she offered a slight nod. Behind Louise, standing in the doorway, was Adam, he was dressed formally and glowing. He shook his head at her and although Christina could see him, Louise could not. The angel came over to where Christina stood, his hands coming to rest gently on her now trembling shoulders. For a moment, he said nothing, instead he regarded the angry woman with the gun and shook his head sadly.

"Don't say anything, Christina, just listen to me," Adam said softly. "Louise is serious about this, she will kill you if you don't do as she says. You and Hope are both in terrible danger, and you should know that the young girl was telling you the truth."

Christina nodded, but instead of waiting for Adam to continue, Louise spoke. "Sit down."

Christina did, and she looked at Adam, the angel coming over and sitting down next to her. As Louise started to look around the room for the teenager, Christina leaned over towards Adam and spoke, her voice a barely audible whisper. "Forgive me?"

Adam nodded but rested a finger against his lips. "Don't say anything, Christina, just listen. I know that Hope is under the desk, she's hiding from her grandmother. I'm going to go stay with her through this. Andrew is on his way to you, but don't be afraid when you see him, OK?" Once she nodded, he reached over and took her hand in his. "I know this is scary for you both."

Seconds later, Louise turned away from the window and came over to where Christina was sitting, all the while waving the gun.

As she tried to conceal her extreme fear, Christina watched as Adam, went over to the desk and crouched down and looked underneath it to see a pair of petrified brown eyes staring back out at him. "Shhh, don't say anything, little one, I'm here to help." Without another word, he crawled into the small enclosure and extended his hand towards her.

Hope nodded when she recognized the angel and hesitantly reached her own back out towards him and when she felt his warm fingers curling around her cold and sweaty hand, she could fell the sobs catching in her throat. As she felt the tears stinging her eyes, she bit down on her lip and looked at him, the fear overwhelming.

"Shhh, it's OK my friend, just come over to me, quietly," he said gently and once she was next to him, he pulled her onto his lap and she buried her face against his chest, all the while trying to keep her sobs from attracting Louise's attention.

Adam remained seated, all the while his soft voice offering the frightened girl some sort of reassurance that he was present and that no matter what would happen, she would not be alone.

*****

As he stepped outside the building and was walking across the courtyard, Jeremy's thoughts were a jumble, but he was relieved. Maybe this letter would be just what the police would need to have in order to end the whole sorted mess with the Christianson family. As he walked, he started to hum, but seconds later, he looked up to see that someone was now coming towards him, and when the woman got closer to him, he recognized her. It was Tess, but instead of looking happy, the angel appeared to be consumed with her own bunch of worries. "Jeremy, hold up there baby," she eventually called out to him.

He abruptly stopped and waited for her to reach where he was now standing. "Hey, Tess, what are you doing out here? I figured that you and your friends would be hanging out on a beach somewhere." He smiled at her, but was not surprised when she did not return the gesture. "Is something wrong?" He eventually asked all the while waiting for her to speak, all the while hoping that contrary to her mannerisms, that she was bringing some good news to him.

"Jeremy, something terrible is happening right as we speak, and I was instructed to leave my assignment and come find you," she said softly, her dark eyes filled with sadness. "I know you and your family have a lot of things happening at the moment, and you probably don't need anything more on your plate, but right now I need you to listen to me."

"Something about my family?" He asked weakly. "What is it? Is one of my daughters in trouble again? Has Denise gotten into trouble again?" He asked, but instead of responding to her request of listening, he, as if motivated by impulses, started to walk towards the car, his expression earnest.

Tess reached out and touched his shoulder. "No, baby, the two girls are just fine, Denise is still at school, and has been spending time talking with her choir director. Dawn is alone at the library working on her history project. Laura, as you know is at the community center and working with Sebastian on an art class. The one who needs help is Christina. Jeremy, she's in trouble," she said softly.

"You must be mistaken, Tess, I just left her less than ten minutes ago and she was fine, in fact, she gave this letter that Melanie Christianson had supposedly written to her cousin, Hope. If we get the handwriting verified, then this could very easily be the break in the case that we have been waiting for," Jeremy said softly.

"Either that, or this letter will ultimately be your only bargaining tool to insure Christina and Hope's release," Tess said and looked at him. "Right now, it is important that you remain calm, Jeremy, because Louise Christianson is up there, baby, she's oppressing Christina and Hope with a gun, and she's not afraid to use it."

"Are you saying that my wife is presently being held at gunpoint in a hostage crisis?" Jeremy asked softly the color draining from his face, but when he suddenly saw Andrew walking towards the building, he suddenly felt a new wave of determination overwhelming him and he started to walk towards the glass building.

"Wait," Tess called out. "You can't go up there right now, Jeremy, not in your current frame of mind. Louise wants that letter, and she knows that this could very easily put her behind bars with her son and daughter-in-law."

"Then what should I do?" He asked. "I can't stand the idea of seeing Andrew dressed like that, and going to see my wife." When his voice cracked, he suddenly realized that it would probably be best for him to stop speaking and listen to whatever it was that Tess had to say about the current situation.

"I cannot tell you what to do, baby, but I can tell you that you will not be able to deal with any of this if you lose your sense of perspective," Tess said gravely. "Right now, Adam's up there with Hope, and Andrew is on his way up there to be with Christina."

Sighing, Jeremy could now clearly see that Andrew was going inside, and something in the angel's demeanor struck him. "Tess, is it just me or does he look a little bit sluggish today?"

"Andrew doesn't want to have to take Christina Home any more than you would want it, but he's going to be there to help make sure that she doesn't lose her perspective on things," Tess began. "The other thing is, he is very sad about having to take Melanie Home this morning."

"I can believe that, because he doesn't look at all confident, and it is really weird for me to see him like this," Jeremy said softly as he studied the angel's movements. On the surface the angel looked like Andrew, but there was something in his stance that not only startled him, but also worried him. "Tess, what can I do?" He asked, but when no answer emerged, he looked around and realized that she was once again gone. Glancing back in the direction of the glass building, he suddenly realized what it was he needed to do first. "OK," he mused sadly to himself. "I'm going to get through this, somehow…"

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, turned it on, and dialed the station. When one of the officers on duty answered, he conveyed the information that he had received and was informed that a call had already been processed some five minutes ago from the security desk of the same building regarding a disturbance at the very same group of offices.

Sighing deeply, Jeremy told the officer about taking his wife some lunch and picking up the three pages of the letter that Melanie presumably had written. Once the officer had agreed to send some back up to the area, Jeremy started to walk towards the building, but then as if by impulse, he suddenly stopped and shook his head. For the first time in years, he was completely at a loss as to what to do.

Retrieving his cell phone once again, he called Peter Harris' private number.

When a woman answered the call he began to speak, his voice emerging through a pent up sigh. "Hello? I hope I have reached the right number, but I am trying to reach Doctor Peter Harris, is he at home?" He said.

"You've reached the right number, but he's having lunch at the moment," the woman said. "This is his wife, Dana, is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, actually I really need to speak to Dr. Harris," Jeremy said.

"If this is an emergency, tell me who this is and I'll convey a message to him," Dana said, her voice friendly, but Jeremy could detect a sense of confusion on the line and he eventually concluded that it would be best to tell her what this is about.

"Mrs. Harris, my name is Jeremy Lowery, I'm Christina's husband, but I also work for the police department, and I think something may be wrong at the office building where your husband works," Jeremy said, his words almost emerging in a rush. "I can't say specifically what is happening, but I need to talk to him and even though this sounds like an overused cliché, it could be a matter of life and death. Could you please get your husband? This is very important,"

Dana complied and within minutes Peter's voice was heard on the other end of the line. "This is Peter Harris, can I help you?"

"Dr. Harris, this is Christina's husband, Jeremy Lowery, I'm sorry to disturb your lunch, but right now, I have reason to believe that my wife is somehow involved in a hostage crisis at the office building where you work."

"A hostage crisis?" Peter sighed deeply, the impatience evident in his voice. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, do you honestly believe that a husband would call you up and be joking about his wife in such a manner?" Jeremy asked, his voice somewhat edgy.

"No, I suppose not," Peter said sadly. "Listen, just give me ten minutes and I'll get down there as soon as I can. You might try the emergency number to the office building. That is you might try calling the security desk and ask them to go and check our offices," Peter suggested.

"I'm not taking any chances," Jeremy said matter-of-factly. "I happen to know that security guards don't have guns, and if there is a problem taking place up there, my wife and a teenage girl could be in serious trouble. Also, according to the officer at the precinct house, a call has already been dispatched from the security desk, and back up is on their way over. I think that this entire situation is now riding on a piece of evidence that I had been given when just before the suspect had come onto the scene. It may very well change the entire situation surrounding the Christianson family."

"The Christianson family?" Peter released a deep groan. "I had no idea that anything else could happen with them, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked Christina to take the case."

"I know, and frankly, I don't believe anyone really knew what was happening, but Dr. Harris, something is happening, and from what I have been told, Louise Christianson has a gun up there, and she is not afraid to use it." Jeremy repeated the words Tess had only said moments before disappearing.

Peter took a deep breath, "OK, I'll be down there as soon as I am able to get away." With that, he hung up the phone and Jeremy stuck his cell phone back into his pocket. "Oh please, God, if You really are around here somewhere in physical form, we really could use some help, and soon."

His eyes still on the glass doors leading into the building, Jeremy shook his head, now all he could do was wait.

*****

Denise was, at this moment, walking through the halls at school. The final bell had sounded, and thus the student body had been dismissed from their last class. As she walked in the direction of the choir room, she could see that Jo was at her locker not too far away from the door leading into the rehearsal hall. Jo appeared to be cleaning the last of her things out of it and unhappily Denise approached her.

"Jo, what are you doing?" She asked.

"I was told that I have to clean this out, today was my last day and I'm going home for good," Jo said softly, but when she saw the expressionless look on her friend's face, she knew that her dying was still a painful topic for Denise. "Denise, my mother and I talked about it last night, and I decided that I wanted to spend my last days with my family and friends. School is hardly the last place I want to be stuck in for the last days of my life."

Denise, instead of speaking, swallowed the persistent lump that had formed in her throat, but she offered her friend a brave, almost automatic nod.

"I know this is hard for you," Jo said softly.

"Yeah," Denise whispered. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Jo said. "I know that you want to say 'fight for every day', but I can't really do that, I'm too tired to fight."

"You're my best friend," Denise whispered. "If I didn't say fight, then I wouldn't know what to say at all. I mean…what more is there left to say?"

Jo shook her head. "I don't know, maybe we should just play this whole business by ear. You know, have fun before that day comes, and just make as many great memories as we can."

Denise took a deep breath and nodded, trying all the while to keep her tears at bay. "What do you want me to do?"

"You already know, just keep our project going, Denise," Jo said smiling weakly.

"The project, you're the strength behind that, not me, I was just going along for the ride," Denise said weakly.

"No, that's not true, Denise, you made as big of an impact on this as I did, and I'll tell you something, you and Dawn were the reasons I got involved in this in the first place. Sure there was that boy I wanted to help some years ago, but it was also about people like you and Dawn who really inspired me to do something. It was what you went through with the Stevens people that made me realize that abuses happen without us fully knowing or being aware of it and if a couple of kids can come out and try to make a difference, then we owe it to ourselves to give it a try."

"You did this for me?" She asked weakly.

"Not just for you, but you did help inspire it," Jo said smiling weakly as she looked up and saw the Father coming down the hall in their direction. Once He had reached then, she looked up "Hello, Mr. Gottlieb," she said and looked at Denise. "Listen, we'll see each other before…well, you know, but I've got to get going, my mom and Katie are waiting for me and I need to get something to eat before I go home."

Denise nodded, but when she recognized Jennifer at the other end of the hallway, she watched as her best friend began to roll her wheelchair in the direction of her mother. Once Jo had reached Jennifer, she looked up to see that her friend's mother was waving at her, and she raised her hand and waved, all the while trying to offer them both a brave smile.

Once Jennifer had taken the handles of Jo's wheelchair, and they rounded a corner, Denise slid to the floor and allowed the tears to fall. After a few seconds had passed, she could suddenly feel a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to see that the Father was next to her.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Denise, I know this is hard for you," He said gently.

She said nothing, instead she just shook her head, and looked back down at the ground.

"Denise, I know that you have a lot on your mind, but there is something wrong, and I need you to come with Me," the Father began. "I will tell you what I Am able to on the way, but we need to go."

Hearing the severity in His voice, she quickly get to her feet, and once she was standing, she looked at him. "What is it?"

"Christina is in trouble," He said softly, and Denise looked at Him, all the while trying to conceal the grief she still seemed to carry about the situation with Jo, but these words made her blood literally run cold.

"What do You mean?" She asked weakly. "What kind of trouble?"

"Do you remember when I told you earlier about the situation with Louise Christianson, about you having met her in the park a few days ago?" He asked.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with Christina?" Denise asked.

"Louise is currently in your adopted mother's workplace, holding her hostage with a gun," the Father said softly, but as these words emerged, Denise's face lost all its color and she looked at Him for any sign that He was joking, but when she saw the earnest look in His eyes, she knew that He wasn't joking.

"What can I do?" she whispered. "I'm just a kid."

"We need to go and find your sister, and then we need to get to the office building where Christina works," the Father said gently. "I know that you think that you are not capable of helping, but you are, you just need to trust Me."

Denise nodded reluctantly and once the Father took her hand, they ran down the hall in the direction of the library. "Father?" Denise suddenly stopped, and once He had done the same, He turned and looked at her as if waiting for her to speak. "Does Dawn need to know who You are?"

He shook His head. "Not just yet, to her I'm still Mr. Gottlieb, the choir director."

She nodded but looked at him. "How did you know all this stuff then?"

"Tess, she's been helping Me," He said, but looked at her. "What would Dawn say if you or I were to have told her that I was who I Am?"

"She would say we're both completely mad," Denise whispered. "OK, Mr. Gottlieb, You're right, but please don't expect me to lie to her about this because even if I tried, she can almost sense when I'm lying."

"It will not happen," He smiled as they reached the door leading into the library. In one corner, Dawn was hunched over some books, one hand was holding the book open, the other was writing swiftly.

Before approaching, Denise looked at the Father and shrugged her shoulders. "Dawn?" She spoke her sister's name as though it were a question and the pencil practically flew from Dawn's hand as she turned around.

"Don't scare me like that," she snapped, but when she saw the unhappy look on her sister's face, and a stranger next to her, she tried to calm herself down. "I'm sorry," she rested her hand over her heart as she addressed the Father. "But, she just about scared the living daylights out of me." The Father nodded as the teenager continued. "I think I'm too involved in my work to know what is really going on in the outside world." She began to arrange her papers. "I guess a break is in order."

"Dawn, there's something that we have to tell you," Denise began before the Father could speak.

"What?" She closed the books closed and got up from the table. As she began to stuff the books into her backpack, she looked at her sister and realizing that Denise was still hesitating, she sighed deeply. "Well, aren't you going to tell me?"

"Christina is in trouble, and I think we should get downtown and see what is going on," Denise said softly. "Something about Louise Christianson and that whole mess with their family."

"Wait a minute, now hold the phone. How do you know all this stuff?" Dawn asked.

"Tess told Me," the Father said.

"You know Tess?" Dawn asked.

"She's been working here in the counseling offices, Dawn," Denise whispered.

"OK, that part's cleared up, now tell me, who is Louise Christianson and what does she have to do with Christina?" Dawn looked at her sister with demanding eyes.

"There really is no time left to explain all of this," the Father broke His silence, His voice gentle. "You, Denise and I need to get downtown."

"Why You?" Dawn asked. "You're not even involved in this. What do You care?"

"Mr. Gottlieb is my friend, Dawn, and He's also the one with the car. Without Him, we'd have to take the bus downtown, and you know how bad it is with public transportation at this time of day."

Dawn nodded. "Yeah, OK, fair enough." She followed the two of them towards the door leading out of the library and to a long hallway. Once they were walking towards lobby and out into the school's courtyard, Dawn looked up at Him. "Excuse the goofball question, but haven't I seen you somewhere before?" She eventually asked.

"You may have, I pop in every now and again," came the almost automatic response and Denise nearly choked. He patted her back and once she nodded, He smiled. "I sometimes help out over at the community center, too."

Dawn seemed to accept that answer, but she looked at Him. "I don't mean to sound so pushy, I just thought that maybe I had seen you around, not just here or the center, but in other places around town."

The Father stopped walking. "Dawn, right now, who I Am or why I'm here is not important, you need to know that your adoptive mother is in trouble and we need to get downtown. Any questions you may have can and will be addressed later."

She nodded dejectedly, but followed them, all the while remembering the last time she had really spoken to Christina. She took a deep breath as she thought about how angry she had been, and it was because Christina and Jeremy had paid so much attention to Melanie Christianson's plight rather than that of her twin sister. Instead of speaking about this to Denise, she simply followed them to the doors that would lead them outside.

The Father noticed this and He glanced back towards Dawn, but did not say anything, instead, He led them to His car, unlocked it, and watched as Dawn climbed in the back while Denise crawled into the passenger seat.

As He drove them in the direction of the downtown, He eventually spoke. "Dawn, is everything OK?"

"Sure, it's fine," she whispered, her words soft and Denise turned around, but when she made eye contact with her sister, Dawn had a look on her face that clearly said 'don't even start on me', and Denise eventually turned back around and the rest of the drive passed in silence.

As they reached the downtown complex and the Father pulled into a parking lot, Dawn looked out the window and could see the numbers of police cars lined along the large courtyard. When Dawn saw that Jeremy was standing amidst die cars, she quickly climbed out of the car and ran over to him, thus leaving Denise and the Father alone. Once Dawn was standing next to Jeremy, Denise looked at Him.

"Now what?" She asked weakly as she looked up at the building.

*****

Upstairs, Christina was still seated on the sofa, and Louise was literally pacing through the office, her steely eyes regarding her every so often. Christina knew what the woman wanted, she had demanded it three times since this had started, but when she had offered a response to her inquiry, Louise was anything but satisfied. "Where's the letter, Mrs. Lowery?" She asked for the third or fourth time.

Christina sighed deeply, "I've already told you, my husband has it, and he's taken it to the police."

"I don't believe you," Louise looked at her, the eyes of the woman gleaming, and Christina closed her eyes for a moment, all the while trying to keep her composure during this nightmare. Her thoughts shifted, and she thought about her husband who was downstairs, but she was also remembering Tess' words when she had seen the angel earlier that day.

Hope was still hidden with Adam under the desk and the angel pressed a gentle finger against her lips to keep her from speaking. "I know that you know that Christina is telling the truth, Hope, but you know that Louise won't listen, and if you come out, you could be in even more danger."

The teenager nodded, her tearstained face still buried against Adam's chest, her arms wound around the angel, her body trembling.

Adam continued to brush his hand gently through her hair, but at the same time, he was watching for a chance to help Hope get out of her grandmother's line of fire. The angel continued to listen to the conversation taking place between Christina and Louise, all the while, his arms holding the teenager who did not dare come out from under the desk, but also knowing that there was no way that Louise could have physically gotten her granddaughter out from under it.

It had been over an hour since Louise had come in, and oddly enough, instead of focusing on Hope, the woman's object of rage seemed to be on Christina. In fact, it struck her that Louise seemed oblivious to the sobbing of Hope, who was still hidden and out of reach underneath the large desk.

"Adam is with her," Christina heard the voice of her long time friend and she looked up to see that Andrew was now next to her. "I know I should explain some things to you, and I will, but right now we have to see how this whole thing is going to play out. I think you know that Louise cannot see me, Christina," he said softly.

She wanted to respond to him, but he covered his lips with a single finger and shook his head. Seconds later, and she was jarred back to reality when the telephone began to ring and she got up with the intention of going to answer it.

"What are you doing?" Louise snapped, the gun once more waving in Christina's face.

"If I don't answer it, then the caller may assume that something is wrong," she said softly.

"Who would be calling you?" Louise asked, her voice still on edge, but the obvious nervousness starting to show.

"It could be my boss, it could be a new appointment, or it could be my husband or one of my daughters. The point is, if I don't answer, then chances are, they're going to know that something is wrong," Christina said calmly.

Louise nodded, but what she didn't see was that Hope was listening to this from behind the desk. Adam had stood up in order to get a better look, and his eyes widened when he saw Louise had completely turned her back to her. He stooped down and whispered to her. "Now's your chance to get out of here, Hope. You're not too far from the door, and Louise would have to get around the couch and end-table in order to reach you."

The teenager nodded, and with her angel now following her, she crawled out from under the table and bolted towards the door as Christina reached over and picked up the phone.

"Christina Lowery," she said into the phone, but before she could hear the person calling, Louise had snapped out of her surprise and started towards the door with the intention of going after the teenager. "No," she screamed, and threw the phone across the desk, the object falling towards the floor and she running towards Louise's back.

The old woman, at that instant, turned around and grabbed Christina's arm, the uneven nails digging through her lightweight blazer and through to her flesh. Using all of her weight, she shoved Christina back over to the sofa, her knee hitting the hard table in front of the sofa before falling back against the leather surface of the sofa. Grasping her knee, Christina looked up to see Louise was now towering over her, the gun cocked ready to fire.

"If you kill me, Mrs. Christianson, then you will not only join your son and daughter-in-law in jail, you would be charged with murder, and never see the light of day, much less have the power to help them, and I happen to know that that is what you want to do." As she spoke, she watched as Andrew closed his eyes momentarily as both he and she awaited the response of the woman with the gun.

Louise lowered the gun slowly. "You're right," she offered.

Christina released a pent up sigh as she tried to sit up on the sofa, her eyes filling with tears of agony as her knee continued to throb. Eventually, she covered it with her hand and looked at the other woman. "Hope should be protected, Mrs. Christianson, but the people you have been trying to protect have been those who have caused nothing but mental and emotional anguish for not only Hope, but also for Melanie. You and I share one thing in common, we are mothers, we have raised children, but what you have brought up has been nothing more than a cycle of abuse. Through trying to work with Melanie and now with Hope, I have tried with everything in me to help these girls break that cycle. Hope may one day need her grandmother but it will be up to her if she comes to you, or if she turns and walks away. Right now, you have seen her run away."

"What does it matter, she will never see me as her grandmother?" Louise responded.

Christina took a deep breath. "If you continue to enable people who harm her, no she won't, but if you put her welfare first, ahead of secrets, lies, pain, abuse, and those who have harmed her, then you might find your way back to your granddaughter, as well as to Hope's parents."

"Why should I believe you?" Louise asked bitingly. "Hope showed you that letter."

"Yes she did and it was the hardest thing I have ever had to read," Christina looked at the woman. "I won't lie to you, that gun is the only thing that is keeping you and I in this room together. However, there is one thing that I do believe, regardless of what happens today; if we both walk out of here, or if you are the only one left standing, I think that what you have to lose if you shoot me, far outweighs what you could lose if you allow violence to be your answer," Christina regarded the gun warily. "Do you think taking me as a hostage is going to ultimately help your children, or restore your family?"

Louise looked at her, the eyes of the woman filled with bitterness, "what do you care?"

Christina took a deep breath, "maybe I shouldn't, and maybe I have no reason to care about you or your family. However, when I saw Hope earlier today, I realized that I do have a choice, I could respond to her in the way you wish for me to, the way that half of society has already reacted to her, or I could swallow the fear and stand by her while she faces whatever it is she has endured. I know that I cannot ignore the deep pain she harbors, it would be next to impossible for me to take no notice of her."

Andrew sat listening to this and as Christina finished speaking, he smiled gently at her, she was doing what she needed to. However, Louise didn't take long to think about it and she looked at the psychologist and shook her head.

"You think I was born last night, don't you?" She snapped, her hand still holding the gun. "Well, if that kid doesn't come back by tonight with that letter, you're not leaving this office alive."

Christina took a gasping breath and looked at Andrew. The angel sighed deeply, but rested a gentle hand on her now trembling shoulder.

*****

Outside the building, the police continued their surveillance of the building. As Denise and the Father watched what was happening, the teenager saw some movement at the door and she tugged on the arm of His jacket.

He looked down at her. "What is it?"

"Look over there, someone is coming out, and from the looks of it, none of those cops are paying any attention to her and she looks really scared," Denise pointed to the girl, who had shakily emerged from the building and had collapsed to her knees onto the pavement some twenty five feet from the glass doors leading inside.

The Father looked at her, His eyes intent. "Come with Me," He said and once she nodded, the two of them ran towards the girl who was now sobbing on the ground still unobserved by the police who were staring at the building.

What a bunch of idiots, Denise thought, but once the Father had reached the girl, she looked up to see that Adam was standing behind Hope and Denise looked at him. "I don't understand, what are you doing here?" She whispered to the angel, who had, by then reached where she was standing.

"She's my friend, Denise," Adam said and she nodded as he crouched down beside Hope, who was still weeping hysterically.

When the angel's eyes met those of his Father, he nodded as the teenager looked up and her tear-filled gaze met the sympathetic eyes of her Creator, who had, by this time, gotten down on the ground, and had placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

However, before the Father could speak, Jeremy approached, his expression darkening when he saw the same man who had apparently helped Denise when she had been assaulted some days ago when they had been at the fairgrounds.

"What are you doing here?" He eventually demanded as the Father touched the head of the weeping teenager who was still on the ground.

"He's with me," Denise said softly, but Jeremy seemed not to have heard her and he crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the Father angrily.

"Listen, Mr. Gottlieb, I really appreciate you helping my daughter out like you did, but right now I think it is not very appropriate for you to be hanging around teenage girls, one might very easily get the wrong idea, especially with a case like this going down," He looked at Denise, who stood next to her teacher with a hurt, almost shocked look on her face. "And what may I ask are you doing here, young lady?"

Denise looked as if she had been struck. "Tess said that there was a problem," she managed to speak, but looked at Jeremy, who was still eyeing her teacher with disapproval. "Why are you mad at Mr. Gottlieb, He wouldn't hurt a fly, He saved my life," Denise began, but once again, Jeremy seemed not to have paid attention to what it was she was saying. He continued to stare down at Hope and seemed completely unaware of the words his adopted daughter had spoken.

Eventually, instead of speaking further, Denise nodded as she turned and walked slowly away, her eyes downcast, and the Father was left staring after her. Finally, He looked at Jeremy. "You hurt her, Mr. Lowery, and deeply."

"I don't have time for this," Jeremy said angrily as he got down next to Hope, who was still on the ground weeping. "I don't want or need to be preached at by a choir teacher about how to raise my kids, nor do I need to be told how to do my job. Now, Hope, we need to talk about what happened and how you got away," Jeremy said softly as two officers approached and led the distraught girl away. Adam followed without a word.

Once they were alone, the Father looked at Jeremy. "Didn't you see Denise's face or were you too caught up in worries about everyone else to see the devastation that was in your daughter's eyes?" The gentle questions emerged.

"My wife is being held hostage by some gun-crazed old woman, I don't have time to concentrate on the problems of a teenage girl," Jeremy spat out, his words out before he could stop them. "Now, if you don't mind, I have an interview to conduct."

"I understand, well, seeing as you have no intention of going after your daughter, I think someone must, so I will," He said as He got to His feet and started walking away.

"Stay away from her," Jeremy called out, but the Father did not heed this warning, instead, He walked in the direction where He knew Denise had gone.

When He found her, she was sitting on a bench crying. He pulled a handkerchief from His pocket and sat down next to her, all the while pressing the small piece of cloth into her now trembling hand.

"It is not easy to feel forgotten in all of this, is it?" He whispered gently.

Denise kept her eyes on the ground. "He wants You to stay away from me. Right now, You and Jo are my only friends, and…"

"Shhh," He cajoled her gently, His finger covering her mouth and stopping the flow of words. "Now, do you honestly think that I will stay away from you because someone has told Me to?" He asked softly as He took a deep breath and smiled at her. "I think you know by now that I will not heed those words any more than you would wish Me to. Jeremy may be a good father, but even the best of fathers go through times where they are weak, and right now, because of his weak moments, he may believe that he is looking out for your best interests. This is a blind assumption on his part, but it is by no means, a tactic one would use to look out for or protect another. Denise, right now he may very well be thinking about what it is that Hope has endured, but what he may not fully realize or accept is that these actions, although made with the best of intentions, are hurting you."

She nodded as she felt the tears streaming down over her cheeks. He reached over and took the handkerchief out of her hand and brushed those tears away. "I'm eighteen, Father, I should be old enough to decide for myself who my friends are," she whispered more to herself than to Him.

"You are old enough, and you know that no one can keep Me out of your life. The only one who can do that, is you, and that would only be if you were to choose this as your option, but even in that case, I Am still present, just not acknowledged," He said gently as He wrapped her gently in His arms. "At the same time, I know you, Denise, and I know that you are afraid that Jeremy or Christina would cease to love you if you chose something that were to go against either of their wishes."

She nodded with unhidden shame still present in her eyes. "It's because I've lost so much already. If I lose them too, then all the connections I have to my brother and sister will be gone."

He shook His head and reached for her hand. Once He held it, he began to speak once again. "This is where you're wrong, Denise. You could not lose your brother or sister because like your parents, they are forever engraved in your heart. No one can take away the memories you have of your parents or Patrick, and no one can take your sister out of your life unless you and she were to chose this, and quite honestly, I do not see that happening."

"It won't?" She asked weakly as she wiped her eyes with the corner of His handkerchief.

"No, it won't happen any more than you losing Me would happen," He smiled gently at her.

"I don't want to lose You, Father," she whispered.

"Then you won't, it is really as simple as that," He said smiling.

"But, if Jeremy won't let us meet, then how…" Her voice trailed off and she looked at Him, but after He made eye contact with her, she looked away.

The Father chuckled. "You are dealing with one of the greatest false impressions human beings have about Me, My child. People have been told for centuries that I will always look the same, but you see, I can take on many different forms, and I don't always have to be in the form of a choir teacher. This is a good thing, because I happen to know that Mr. Travers will be back tomorrow."

"If he's coming back then that means…You're leaving?" She asked softly.

He shook his head. "No, as I told you, I won't leave until you can look Me in the eyes when you speak to Me, and you have not yet accomplished that." Smiling, He reached for her hand. "What I'm trying to say is that one of mankind's favorite images of Me is the old man with the white beard. But, one thing that you need to understand is that I Am all that is, that means, there is nothing that I Am not. That means, as long as I so choose, I can physically appear as young, old, black, white, male, or female. God cannot be limited in any way, even if human beings decide to put their limitations on Me. I will not be limited because someone has decided to limit Me, I can only try to show them that it is wise for you to broaden your perspective or idea of what I Am."

"You mean you could come here as a girl?" Denise looked at Him.

"I could be anything, I could even be a dog, but that would not be very effective when it comes to reaching one of My children. Licking one's face is hardly a way for Me to tell someone I love him or her," He smiled as He chuckled softly. "What I'm trying to say is that often people will overlook Me because they are living with this perception of Me, and then are seeking out one of their specific images."

"Is that like the story with the butterfly?" Denise asked softly. "There was this story where a man began to pray, and he said 'God, talk to me,' and when the wind blew, he ignored it. Then he got angry, and he said 'God, talk to me.' At that moment, he heard the sounds of a baby crying. Finally he said 'God, if you're there, touch me,' and then as soon as the words were out, he brushed the butterfly away that had landed on his arm."

The Father smiled and nodded. "Yes, and that is a very basic truth. I Am encompassed in everything. The angels call Me 'Father', which makes for easier description when they tell humans about Me, but I could just as easily be called 'Mother'," He said gently.

"That seems weird to me…" she whispered.

"Some of your planet's religions praise the Goddess, and to them it may be just as odd to hear one to speak of many gods or of one God," He said softly.

Denise shrugged her shoulders. "What can we do, I don't want to stop seeing You, and I'm scared that Jeremy is going to get angry with me about us being around each other."

"Then tell him tonight that Mr. Gottlieb is gone," the Father said softly.

"But, I don't want You to go," Denise whispered. "I need You."

"Look at Me then, even if just for a moment," came the gentle answer and Denise looked up to see that seated next to her was not the individual she had come to know, instead there was someone who appeared to be closer to her own age. As she regarded Him, she took in His attributes, shoulder length brown hair, crystal clear blue eyes and He was dressed casually in jeans and a black T-shirt with the words 'Holy Rollers' and a small picture of a pair of roller blades between the two words.

Denise shook her head. "This is amazing, now You look like a teenager, like someone my age. I mean; this is just too weird."

"Maybe not, but it will help, and maybe when you see that I appear to be close to your age, then you'll relax. By the way, now I'm just Al," He smiled impishly at her, His blue eyes shining brightly.

"Al, like short for Albert?" She asked still trying to deal with what had just transpired.

"No, actually it's short for Alpha, one of My many names," He smiled at her.

She nodded but looked down at her hands. "This is totally weird for me," she repeated the same words she had spoken only moments ago.

He smiled as He ran His hand through His shoulder-length hair. "It makes sense, but it will get easier for you to accept after a little time has passed. Now, do you happen to have a rubber band?"

"Why?"

"My hair keeps blowing in My face and I thought it might be a good idea to pull it back," He smiled, but she nodded and began to dig around in her purse.

"Here, these are better than rubber bands, they don't pull on Your hair as much," she handed Him a light blue band and watched as He wound it through His hair. Once it was pulled back, He looked at her and could clearly see that she still looked worried.

"Denise, try not to worry, as far as Jeremy knows all I Am is one of your friends from school," He offered gently as He rested a hand on her shoulder.

She nodded and smiled weakly, her thoughts continually drifting.

"What is it?" He eventually asked. "I know something is wrong, why don't you go ahead and tell Me?"

"I don't know, I was just thinking that it's really too bad You're God, because I thought how…" Her voice drifted off and she shrugged her shoulders. "…Oh just forget it, I'm OK."

"Oh come on," He nudged her, his eyes twinkling merrily, but she remained quiet, her thoughts literally encompassing her.

Sighing deeply, she glanced over at Him and took a deep breath, thus releasing it slowly. Now, His mannerisms seemed reminiscent of the boys in her class, and when she noticed that He had leaned over and was retying His shoes, she looked away as He sat back up on the bench and inhaled deeply as He wound His arms behind His head.

Denise continued to sneak looks at Him, all the while she could not help but reach the conclusion that the more time she spent with Him as a teenager, the more prone she was to forget that He was the Father, and not the boy next door. "Come on, you can tell Me anything," He eventually offered, thus breaking the uncomfortable silence that seemed to encase both of them.

"It's nothing, I was just thinking about the prom again," She whispered.

"What about it?" He looked at her. "Come on Denise, I already know what you're thinking about, so you might as well tell me. I won't judge you for it, they are feelings and I did essentially give them to you."

She shrugged her shoulders. "What's there to tell? Jo can't go, and I don't have a date. I wonder what the point of going is, it will only be humiliating for me to sit alone at a table while everyone is out on the dance floor having fun. I'm going to be there alone, and the more I think about it, the more I hate the idea of going."

"Do you think that to go with someone will make it a lot more fun?" He asked her simply.

"What do You mean?" She asked softly.

"Just what I asked. Is what you're saying in all this is that you're sad because you have no one to share that night with?" He asked, but taking a deep breath, He continued. "You feel that it would be much more fun for you if you were to share it with someone else, correct?"

"Yeah, but Jo isn't going to be able to come," she shrugged her shoulders as she stared down at her lap all the while shaking her head. "I know it's stupid…" she whispered, her voice trailing off.

"It's not stupid, no one wants to be alone, and no one wants to watch longingly as everyone around them is having fun, but Denise you're not an outsider, you have as much a right to be there as everyone else," He said.

"I know, but still, Dawn has a date, she's going with Adam Joshua, and me…I guess I'll probably just stay at home. I mean; I just can't fathom the idea of going there alone and sitting and watching everyone as they're having fun."

"Then don't go alone," He said simply.

Denise's face flushed crimson and her gaze returned to her lap as she nodded without looking up. "Yeah, right, 'don't go alone'. Do You see how many people who would actually want to go anywhere with me, much less the senior prom? I know You make miracles happen, but if I had someone to go with, well, that would be more than a miracle, this would be absolutely phenomenal."

He looked at her. "OK, here's your miracle, I'll go with you."

"You?" She looked at Him. "B-but why? I mean don't You have more important things to do than to go to a prom with me?"

"No," He shook His head. "Denise, you're very important to Me, now answer this question, would you like to go with Me to your prom?" He asked, but when she did not respond, the next words emerged from Him. "Listen, I'm here as a teenager, that makes Me rather impulsive, but seriously, the prom really sounds like a lot of fun, but only if you would really like that and I promise I won't skip town that night."

Denise nodded numbly. "I don't think anyone else would ask me, but the truth is, it doesn't matter to me, because it is nice to be with You, so yes, that is if You're really serious about going with me."

He nodded and smiled as He rested His hand on top of her head. "I knew from the start that you have been worried about the situation with the upcoming prom, especially with Jo being sick and that she will not be able to go, so now you have your date."

"You're really serious about this, aren't You?" She looked at Him.

"Of course, I may have to brush up on My dancing though," He smiled and His eyes twinkled merrily, but His facial expression suddenly became serious. "I think that we probably should be getting back, though. Christina is still in trouble, but I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?" She asked looking at Him somewhat warily.

"As I said earlier, I'm an impulsive teenager, so let's sneak into the back of the building," He said.

"Why? If that woman has a gun, then…" Denise looked at Him. "Jeremy would kill us both if we went into that building."

"Perhaps, but if you could save Christina's life, wouldn't you?" He challenged.

"You really are sounding like a kid my age now," Denise said softly. "It's kind of scary. Do You always take these kinds of risks when You're down here, or is this something that I'm going to have to get used to?"

He chuckled, but reached for her hand. "Come on, we've got to hurry. If we wait five minutes, Louise will shoot Christina. Andrew is already there and things are official. Trust Me, Denise, if there was another, not so scary way to deal with this, I would tell you about it. I guess I should ask you before this goes any further; do you want to try and help Christina?"

"Yes, You know I do, especially after all that she did for me, and for Dawn these past nine years, but I'm scared," she whispered.

"I know, but you're not going to die, and neither will Christina if you trust Me," He said gently. "I will not let you get hurt."

Denise offered a weak nod. "I trust You, Al," she whispered. "Sorry, but it seems so weird for me to call You 'Father' right now, especially when You really don't look all that much older than me."

"That's perfectly OK, come on, we'll talk about everything later," He said smiling and together, they ran through the small open area of the park and into the back courtyard of the large glass building. On the opposite side, Denise could hear the megaphone of the police trying to cajole Louise to release Christina, but Denise, feeling panicky, tried to ignore that and she followed Al to the door that led inside.

Once they had reached the door, Denise turned the knob with the intention of going inside, but when she discovered it locked, she looked at Him. "What can we do, it's locked?" She whispered frantically. "Can you blast it with a lightening bolt or something?"

"Too extreme," He smiled as He turned the knob Himself and the door opened. Once they were inside, He looked around the area before closing the door. "No one saw us, but we need to stay in the stairwell until we get up to the floor where Christina works."

Denise nodded and they raced up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, she looked at Him. "I guess this is it," she whispered. "You got any advice for me before I go in there?"

"Just play it as if you are not aware of the theatrics going on outside," He said. "If you go in there nervously, then it will do more harm than good." He leaned over and whispered something in her ear, she giggled and nodded as He took her hand and they ran down the hall towards the office where her adopted mother worked.

*****

Inside the office, Louise was eying the events outside warily all the while looking back at Christina. Andrew was still seated next to her, but he carried a much calmer expression on his face.

Seconds passed, and someone could be heard out in the waiting room and Louise looked at Christina. "Who is that?"

Andrew looked at Christina. "It's Denise, and a friend of hers, I think they came here to tell you some news," he said softly.

When Christina did not respond to Louise, the older woman came over to her, all the while waving the gun in her face as a means of forcing the answer out of her. "Tell me who it is out there, Mrs. Lowery."

Christina took a deep breath. "I think it's my daughter, and obviously she has no idea what is happening in here."

"I don't believe you," Louise snapped, but before the old woman could do anything else, the door was thrown open and Denise came bursting into the room with Al a few steps behind her.

"Hey, Christina, you're not going to believe it, but Al just asked me to go to the prom with Him," Denise said literally bubbling over, but when she looked at her adopted mother and then at the other woman, her feigned excitement died. "What's going on here?"

"Denise, I want you and your friend to leave this place," Christina said softly. "Mrs. Christianson and I are discussing the situation with her granddaughter."

Denise shook her head. "Then if that's it, then why does she have a gun?" She asked and looked at the Father. "Al, does this look like a normal discussion to You?"

"No, it looks like she has every intention in mind of harming someone if she doesn't get her way. If you ask Me, instead of finding a peaceful way to resolve whatever it is that is going on in her life, she is using a gun to impose her will," He said simply but honestly.

"Please you two, go, you're in danger here, and I couldn't bear it if one of you got hurt because of this," Christina implored them softly.

Denise, as if propelled by adrenaline went over to the sofa and sat down on the arm of the sofa, her hands coming to rest in her lap. All the while, she tried to ignore the pleading look that Christina was giving her. "I remember you from the park. We talked a little bit, I told you that I worked with my friend, Jo, on a program dealing with child abuse prevention."

"I remember," Louise whispered.

"Yeah, well, we've got this really cool idea where we can use this program to not only help people see the signs of child abuse, but where we can try means of prevention." She looked at Al and noticed that He was nodding and smiling encouragingly at her. She continued to speak, her voice firm. "Did you know that a lot of people who were abused as children grow up and become abusers themselves. Either that, or they help enable the real abusers to keep doing this kind of thing. It's terrible what some people will do to protect abusers, some would sell their soul to keep an abuser out of jail."

"Denise," Christina looked at her daughter all the while shaking her head. "You need to get out of here, right now."

Denise ignored the words and continued to sit there, her steady gaze locking with Louise's. "I met Hope downstairs. She really was a mess, crying hysterically, not really caring who saw, but just crying as though her heart was breaking. I knew the feeling, my best friend is dying, and from my observations of her, she looked as though she had lost hers, too."

After a few minutes, Christina's gaze suddenly shifted and she was left staring at Louise. The older woman was staring down at the gun as Denise's words somehow jolted her back to reality. "I tried baby," she was mumbling as she stared down at the gun and closed her eyes for a moment. As she laid the gun on the table, it did not occur to her what had happened until Christina had grabbed the weapon, opened the hammer of it and allowed the six bullets to fall and land on the floor.

Louise stood up with the intention of leaving the room, but Christina stood up and blocked her exit. "Before the police get here, I think you need to sit down, Mrs. Christianson." She turned to her daughter. "Denise, would you and your friend please go downstairs and let Jeremy and his colleagues know that this stand off is over."

Denise nodded and she and Al raced out of the room, her adrenaline rush coming to an end and Christina could see the utter fear that encased the face of her heroic daughter.

Out in the hallway, Denise was breathing heavily as she collapsed in a chair in the waiting room, the emotions quickly getting the better of her. Tears began to stream from beneath her eyes and she shook her head as she buried her face in her hands. "Oh God, I was so scared…" she whispered.

"I know you were, I could tell, but you were really wonderful," He said gently, but reached for her hand. "Come on, we need to get downstairs and tell Jeremy that this standoff is now over. Christina is safe, Andrew is with her, and she won't let go of that gun until the police have reached the room, but I would suggest that we not keep her waiting too terribly long for that to happen."

Denise nodded and the two of them made it downstairs in record time. When they came out of the office building, a couple of the police officers raced over to them. Jeremy was the last to approach them, his eyes registering shock when he saw the familiar face of his daughter. "Denise, what in God's name do you think you're doing? I want to know how and why you saw fit to going in there. You could have put Christina's life at a terrible risk." As these words emerged, the teenager sighed deeply.

"It's over," she managed to gasp, "Christina's got the gun and it's over."

"What?" Jeremy looked at her, his eyes literally bulging, but when he heard the radio crackle to life in the nearby squad car, the color drained from his face. "Do you even realize what could have happened to you? You could have been killed." He yelled at her.

"I could have gotten killed about a week ago too, but neither of you nor Christina seemed to bother with it once everything was taken care of on the physical front," she shot back, her eyes filled with pain. "Now that another bit of chaos is behind us, you're mad at me again, and I'm nothing more than the object to be shoved back into the background where I belong. What does it matter what I did? I'm old enough to make up my own mind," she said sarcastically, her hurt laced in her bitter words.

When Jeremy didn't respond to this, she continued, the anger coming to head. "I can't win for losing anyway, I'm not Patrick and I'm not Dawn." With that, she walked quickly away, and Jeremy turned around.

"Wait young lady, we need to have a talk," he called out, the anger still shadowing his handsome face, but when she stopped and turned around, he was struck by the softness of her voice.

"Just go upstairs, there no point in talking to me about this, you have to see how Christina is doing and I honestly don't feel like talking anymore about this stuff," Denise whispered as she looked around and when she saw the Father standing nearby, she took a deep breath. Seconds passed and she watched as Jeremy heeded her words and walked towards the office building. Dawn watched the events taking place before her, but followed him at a safe distance, her eyes following the movements of the boy who had been with her sister throughout the confrontation.

Sighing deeply, she shook her head and walked into the building, but her thoughts were literally raking havoc on her nerves. Through this situation, she knew that she was one step closer to a nervous breakdown and worst of all, the entire emotional turmoil she was under, seemed to be centered on the concerns she had carried for months about her twin sister.

The Father watched Dawn as she went inside the building, but eventually He turned and followed Denise to the bench where she had been seated before they had gone up to help Christina. He approached her slowly all the while seeing her sobbing as though her heart was shattering into millions of pieces. For some moments, He merely stared at her before slowly approaching.

Once He had reached her, He rested his hand on her shoulder and she hesitantly looked up at Him, her face now streaked with the tears that were still falling from her sorrow-filled eyes. He lowered Himself onto the bench beside her, and after a few moments, she could feel Him pulling her into a comforting embrace, her head now coming to rest against His shoulder, His gentle hand brushing the tears away.

No words were exchanged, they just sat there, the early spring sunshine beating down on them and Denise realized at that moment that there was no place on the world that she would rather be than wrapped snugly in the arms of God.

*****

Several minutes after her adopted daughter and her friend had left the office where she had been held hostage, Christina looked at her tormenter. "I don't know what to say," she eventually spoke, her voice soft, but her fist holding tightly to the gun for fear that the other woman would once again obtain access to it and the nightmare would start all over again. "You not only threatened my life, but the life of a child, and as weird as it may actually sound, I think I understand why." Louise looked up dejectedly as Christina continued. "You loved your son enough to try to protect him, but Mrs. Christianson, your grandchildren were the ones who needed to be protected."

Louise shook her head. "I don't know what came over me, but when I found out about that letter, I thought…"

"That letter was a memory for Hope, a very tragic one, but one that somehow gave her the courage to come and talk about what she had been through. Yet through it all, I have to admit that the contents of that letter made my skin crawl, things that you condoned, and I can't help but wonder what kind of sick person would condone these sorts of things? Why would you do this, allow this to happen?" When Louise did not offer any sort of answer, Christina sighed deeply as the door to the office opened and the police officers came into the room like a group of commandos.

"Mrs. Lowery, are you OK?" One of them asked softly.

"Yes, I think so," she whispered but sighing deeply, she looked at Louise, who was, by this time being taken into custody. Before the police officers led the woman from the room, Christina could feel the tears in her eyes. "I-I just don't know why it was you protected those who sexually abused children. I will pray for you, though, I will ask God to love you, because quite frankly, it is very hard for me to offer any sort of understanding to someone who has done the things you have done."

As she turned the gun over to the officers, she watched as they led Louise from the room. Once she was alone, she looked at Andrew as she sank to the floor and began to weep softly. "It's over, Oh thank God it's finally over."

"Denise saved your life," Andrew said softly.

"I know she did, Andrew, but why?"

"She got inspired, I would guess," he said gently.

"I have spent the last weeks overlooking her, even after she had nearly been raped, I couldn't even look at her without remembering what I had been through. Oh Andrew, how will I ever be able to look her in the eyes without feeling so much guilt about what I had done?" Christina asked uncomfortably. "I know I made so many mistakes, but she risked her own life to come up here and help me."

Andrew rested his hand on her shoulders. "Christina you had the best of intentions in mind when you were looking out for Melanie."

"Why didn't you come and see me today, why did Adam come here?" Christina looked at him, the agony in her eyes. "It was heartbreaking when he told me that she had died. Oh Andrew, why did she have to die?"

"She won't ever hurt again, Christina, and even though you and I are terribly saddened by this course of events, you and I both know that Melanie is going to be much happier now that she is no longer bounded by the pain of her life here."

She nodded helplessly but looked into his gentle green eyes and could see that the angel had sat down on the sofa next to her and wrapped her gently in his arms. "Everything will be OK now," he whispered as he brushed his hand through her hair. Seconds later, he stopped and helped her up onto the sofa. There, she leaned up against him, the tears that she had spend the majority of the afternoon concealing, were now freely streaming down over her face.

Seconds later, she looked up to see that Jeremy had come running into the office, his eyes filled with relief when he saw that his wife was being comforted by the angel. "Christina?" He spoke, but his eyes met those of Andrew.

The angel stood up and Jeremy took his place on the sofa, his arms wrapping around her. Andrew remained where he was as Dawn came into the room some seconds later.

"Jeremy," Christina continued to weep softly as she felt the arms of her husband wrapping around her and holding her tightly. In his arms, she literally melted in the embrace, her words becoming a mixture between hysterical and relieved. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"I know, me too," he whispered softly, his voice now cracking as he brushed his hands across her now tearstained face.

Dawn watched them and instead of speaking, she looked at Andrew, who now stood next to her, and she spoke, her words emerging barely above a whisper. "Andrew?" As she said his name, she started to sink to her knees.

The angel responded by wrapping her in his arms, thus helping her to stay on her feet. "It's OK I've got you, Dawn, and everything is going to be fine."

She shook her head guiltily as she looked up at him. "I didn't want to say 'good-bye' to another mother," the teenager whispered as she threw herself into the arms of the angel. "I was so scared that something terrible was going to happen and I would have to go through everything all alone."

"Shhh," Andrew whispered gently. "God wouldn't let you go through anything alone, sweetheart."

Dawn nodded numbly. "I deserve to be alone, just because I made so many mistakes; I got angry at Christina and Jeremy because of all the stuff going on with Denise."

"Tell them that, sweetheart, not me," the angel said gently. "Christina and Jeremy are both ready to really listen to you, now you need to find the courage to tell them what it is that you are feeling about everything that has happened."

Dawn nodded as she allowed the embrace with the angel to loosen and she walked silently over to where her adoptive parents were both seated, her knees trembling and she looked at Christina. "I d-didn't want to have to say 'good-bye' to you…" she stammered.

Christina smiled gently. "I know Dawn, and I didn't want you to have to either."

The teenager took a deep breath. "Please, forgive me for what happened a few days ago, I didn't mean it, I was just scared for Denise, I didn't know what to do. I thought that she and I were on our own again and that hurt me," she began to sob when she felt Christina's arms around her.

"It's OK, Dawn, I suppose in retrospect you were right in many ways, I didn't want to acknowledge it, but I realized this afternoon when all this was happening how much I had pushed Denise to one side. I guess it really started happening when you both started looking at prom dresses. I didn't want to be a part of that because I had been raped at the prom I had attended. I was fifteen years old, and if it hadn't been for Andrew and his friends, I would have died that night."

"Really?" Dawn looked up at Andrew who now was kneeling on the floor next to the sofa. The angel had reached over and touched the strawberry blonde locks of hair that hung down over Dawn's shoulders.

"Yes, Christina had a terrible experience that night, but she survived it, and seeing your sister go through something similar to it has been very hard for her to endure."

Christina nodded. "I didn't want to acknowledge that I had been raped when I was fifteen, and I wouldn't have been able to deal with it if something else were to have happened to her, so I figured that the best thing for me to do with regard to all of this was to distance myself from it." As she spoke, she could feel the tears as they streamed down her face. "It is so much easier to acknowledge things like what Hope and Melanie were going through then it was for me to acknowledge what Denise had experienced." She took a deep breath as she looked at Dawn. "Forgive me, please."

Dawn nodded. "But, it was my fault."

"No, it wasn't, Dawn, someone once said that children are just as capable of teaching their parents as their parents are capable of teaching them. It's true," Jeremy said softly. "We both have been guilty of that, we both made mistakes and those hurt you as well as Denise."

The teenager looked at Christina. "Why didn't you tell us any of this? I thought we were your family."

"You are, Dawn, you and Denise are our family," Christina said sadly. "I wanted to say something, but I was just so frightened. Oh God, I was so scared and ashamed of myself. I thought that if I showed Denise how torn up this whole incident had made me, then I would probably start crying and never stop."

Dawn looked at Christina. "Really?"

The woman nodded, "It's true, I wouldn't lie to you about that, I just thank God that Mr. Gottlieb was there when he was and that he did whatever he did to help your sister when she needed that the most."

"I told him downstairs that I didn't want him hanging around Denise," Jeremy said softly. "There's something hidden about him that made me uneasy, maybe it was the element of truth that seemed to encase him. I don't know what it was, but I got angry with him."

Andrew looked at Jeremy all the while shaking his head. "That won't very easily happen, Jeremy. This individual you speak of will not heed such demands."

"What do you mean, Andrew?" Christina asked softly rubbing the last of the tears from her eyes.

"It's not easy to explain, but it might help if Jeremy were to draw a quick picture of this person, based on Dawn's description. Why don't you go ahead and describe the man you saw today with your sister?" Andrew said softly as he handed Jeremy a piece of blank paper.

Jeremy and Dawn went over to the desk and she began to describe the teacher she had met that afternoon. As he drew the composite, Andrew looked at Christina. "Do you feel any better about what has happened?" He asked gently.

"I don't know, I thought Louise was going to kill me," Christina looked at him. "I can never fully get over how it is when you start to glow and I see that light."

Andrew smiled gently. "I'm glad that I didn't have to fulfill my promise to you yet, there are still so many people here who need you, Christina."

She nodded as she glanced over to where her husband and daughter were hunched over the piece of paper. "He had gray eyes, graying hair and was really nice," Dawn whispered. "He had a really gentle voice, and Denise seemed to hang on His every word."

"I can't draw nice, Dawn, give me some physical attributes," Jeremy smiled weakly as Dawn continued to describe the man she had seen and Jeremy continued to draw.

A few moments later, Jeremy came over with a hand sketched composite of the man they had both met. He handed this to Christina and watched as his wife regarded the picture.

"Christina, does this person look familiar to you?" Andrew asked softly.

The woman shook her head with disbelief as she looked up from the sketch and into the eyes of the angel. "The man who saved Denise was God," she whispered. "God and love, oh Jeremy, you told the Father that He should stay away from Denise."

Jeremy's face paled. "No way, there is no way that that joker could have been God."

The angel looked at him. "It's true, I. A. Gottlieb was the name that He gave you when Denise was attacked."

"I.A.?" Christina looked at Andrew. "I Am, that's what people call God, the great I Am. Oh my, it's a good thing I'm sitting down."

"Yes, and Gottlieb translates from the German as 'God' and 'love'," Andrew said gently. "Your family has not only been visited by angels, but you have also been visited by the Father."

"Does Denise know?" Christina asked.

"Yes, I believe she does, but sadly, now He's gone, Christina, the teacher that Denise knows to be the Father is now gone," Andrew said softly.

"I don't believe it, she saw God, and I didn't," Dawn looked at Andrew. "If Pastor Stevens knew about this, he'd freak out completely." She looked at her adoptive father. "So, Dad, what are you going to do about having told God that he's not to have anything to do with my sister?"

Jeremy sighed, his face flushing. "I had no idea that this man was God, that He had saved our daughter's life. That alone should have been enough to connect her to Him in the most profound way. It's like what happened with Erina some years ago," he said remembering how he had taken a bullet for the teenager after she had witnessed a robbery.

Christina looked at Jeremy. "Strangely enough, I didn't even get to see Him after His unexpected visit at the house. All I do know is that He appeared in the same way He did at the house, so if I did see Him, then I probably would have recognized him."

"So, I guess that means you really did see God and this was not a made up story?" Dawn asked weakly as she looked at Andrew. "I don't know if I am ready to run into the street screaming or if this is supposed to comfort me somehow." She shook her head sadly after a few minutes. "I think this whole business is really starting to creep me out."

"There is really no reason, Dawn," Andrew smiled gently. "The Father doesn't show up here to creep you out, He comes here to help you."

"Why would He want to help me?" Dawn asked weakly. "I mean; Denise and I aren't even important enough to have angels come and look out for us."

"That's not true," Christina objected.

"Yes it is," Dawn said before she could stop the words from emerging. "Denise and I are as forgotten by the angels as we have been feeling by you guys. I mean…oh never mind. It's completely pointless of me to even try and resolve this. Especially when all I feel in all of this is abandoned anyway."

"Dawn, just because the Father had been with me and Andrew the night when Andrew arrived, doesn't mean that He would ignore you and Denise."

"Well, He obviously wasn't ignoring her, but He is ignoring me, but no big deal, I'm doing just fine without His help," she got up and started to walk towards the door.

Christina looked at Andrew, but before she could speak, he nodded and followed her towards the door as Jeremy and she got up from the sofa and were about to leave the room.

As Dawn walked through the hallway, Andrew came out of the office, reached out, and touched her shoulder, his touch gentle and his words emerging in the same soft cadences that she had grown used to hearing over the years. "You don't really believe that I would only be here for Christina and not for you, do you, sweetheart?" He asked gently, thus causing her to stop. "Do you remember how much we have been through together, Dawn? How we used to talk to and trusted each other."

The teenager turned around and nodded as she closed her eyes and her thoughts returned to the first time she had spoken to Andrew one on one.

It was the night that she had snuck out of the house of the Stevens' couple, and had walked down the road to the cemetery where she would run the risk of getting into serious trouble with her foster parents. This all could have happened because she wanted to visit the grave of her father. The event she remembered had happened before her mother and Patrick had died, but it was, for the teenager one of the most meaningful recollections that she carried deep in the recesses of her heart.

Andrew and Dawn's Flashback

Dawn crawled out of bed late that night, she had been lying there tossing and turning all night long, and right now, she was scared. She could see the shadows across the wall, but her tears blurred them as she sat up in bed.

She glanced over and could see that Denise was still asleep, and instead of waking her sister, she crawled out of bed and crept silently from the room. She could hear the sounds of the television downstairs, and she wondered if Mrs. Stevens was back yet. When she peeked around the corner and could see that the room was empty, she walked with padded steps towards the front door and when she saw that no car was parked in the driveway, she opened the door and snuck outside into the darkness.

She made her way down the street and in the direction of the cemetery, and the entire neighborhood took on an eerie feeling simply because she was so dark, and she was unable to even see the usual shadows embodied by the light from the moon. It was the night of the new moon and the overcast sky hid any light away that the stars might have provided.

The little girl continued to run, and when she reached the iron gate for the cemetery, she realized that it was locked. Rather than trying to open the gate, she squeezed herself between the bars and ran towards the middle of the large graveyard.

Once she sat down in front of one of the graves, she closed her eyes, the tears spilling down over her frightened face. "Hello Daddy," she whispered as she crawled right up next to the large marble stone and rested her small hand against it. After some time had passed she leaned up against the stone, and as the time ticked slowly by, she fell asleep.

Not far away, Andrew stood and watched the little girl. He sighed sadly when he saw the sadness that seemed to emanate from her, and although he knew that Tess was watching out for her, he somehow felt that leaving her alone was not something he wanted to do.

"Angel Boy?" Tess' voice interrupted his train of thought.

"I just walked Christina home, and as soon as I left, I was sent here," he explained softly glancing over at the sleeping child. "One of the Wallace children is in trouble."

"They're all in trouble," Tess said softly, as she felt the tears in her eyes and could hear the thunder beginning to rumble in the distance. "This breaks my heart, Andrew."

"I know, it does mine too," the Angel of Death said softly. "This family has had more than its share of tragedy this year, but I won't leave this little girl out here alone, Tess."

"The Father wants you to go to be with her," Tess said simply. "He somehow thinks that right now you would be better able to reach her than I would."

Andrew nodded, embraced his friend, and once she was gone, he walked slowly towards the sleeping child as the first drops of rain started to fall. He pulled the trench coat off that he was wearing and wrapped it gently around the girl as he pulled her onto his lap. There he sat with her until the wetness of the falling rain woke her up.

When she finally managed to open her eyes, she could feel the wetness of the clothing on her skin, but now she was shivering, and she looked around and at last, she realized that she was sitting on someone's lap. "W-who are you?"

"My name is Andrew, Dawn," he said gently.

"You know my name?" She asked softly, her eyes wide with fright as she struggled to get off his lap and to make distance between herself and him.

"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you," Andrew said softly as she tried to move away from him, but upon hearing his words, she turned slowly around and looked up at him. "I'm a friend of your brother."

"Are you his angel?" Her words emerged; they were weak, but filled with sadness.

"Yes, sweetheart I am," Andrew said softly as he brushed his hand gently through her tangled hair. "But, I'm also here to help you and Denise."

"How can you even want to be with me if I don't want to believe in God?" she whispered.

Andrew looked at the little girl, a mixture of surprise and sadness in his green eyes. "You don't want to believe in God?"

The little girl shook her head, and sneezed. "I'm afraid to."

"Why is that, sweetheart?" He asked gently.

She shook her head. "My mommy and daddy used to take us to church every Sunday. The preacher talked all the time about how awful we are, that we were all terrible sinners, and we should always beg God to forgive us."

Andrew nodded slowly as the little girl continued to speak. "Then after the car accident, he t-told my sister and I that God took vengeance on us…" She looked at Andrew. "What does vengeance mean?"

"It means 'revenge', Dawn," Andrew said softly, the sadness enveloping him as he continued to hear the child's heart wrenching words.

"Yeah, h-he said that God was mad at us, and so He took my daddy away from us as punishment because we were so awful. Then he said that my daddy died because he was a bad man," she looked at him, her eyes filled with the utmost sadness. "I don't want to be awful."

"Oh sweetheart, you're not awful, believe me, the only thing that is awful, are the words that that pastor said to you, but you're not bad or awful, you're one of God's beautiful children," Andrew said gently.

"But, now He's going to take my mommy and brother away from us, too, and we'll be all alone." The little girl began to cry, her hands covering her face and she was unable to even look him in the eyes.

"It's no wonder you are so sad," Andrew said softly as he inched closer to her and enfolded the frightened child in his arms. "You hear all these stories about God being like an angry parent, and you can't help but be afraid, but Dawn, these stories just aren't true."

"But Pastor Stevens said they are," Dawn objected.

"Stevens," Andrew muttered. "Isn't that the name of the woman you were with yesterday in the hospital?"

She nodded. "No one else wanted us, Andrew, so Pastor Stevens and his wife took us. They said they were doing us a favor, but living with them is no fun, they are strict and they won't let us come here and visit Daddy. That's why I sneak out, so I can come here and visit him and tell him that I wish I had died too so I could be with him and not here."

Andrew looked sadly at the little girl, but he gently stroked the frightened girl's hair. "God wasn't ready for you to go to Heaven just yet. Dawn, He wanted you to have a chance to grow up and experience life."

"What life?" Dawn asked sadly. "Mrs. Stevens says only mean things to me, she says that I always run away because I'm a brat. She wants Denise and me to sit in the waiting room at the hospital and wait for her without anything to read, or anything to do. It's boring there, and we have no one to talk to, no one who cares for us."

Andrew sighed deeply, but he continued to hold her in his arms. Now, he understood the necessity of getting these children out of this situation. If they didn't their spirits might be even more misguided and lost than they already were. "Dawn, you know now that God sent you an angel, and I will do whatever I can to help, you just don't give up, OK?"

Dawn nodded weakly in response to Andrew's words and after some moments, he could see that she was trying to wipe the tears from her eyes. Her nightgown was completely drenched, but in the distance, she could see the first light of the new day beginning to illuminate the sky. She continued to shiver, and he was not sure if it was entirely because she was cold, or because she was afraid.

Smiling gently, Andrew took the little girl's face in his hands and wiped the tears from beneath her eyes, but when he saw her involuntarily shivering, he decided that it was best for him to get her somewhere warm and dry. Standing up, he offered her his hand, and as she took it, he pulled her firmly but gently to her feet.

"A-are you going to take me back there?" She stammered.

"I have to," Andrew said gently.

"They're going to be really angry at me," She whispered. "They'll probably lock me in the basement again just like they did the last time I went to visit my daddy. I had to stay there for three days and think about what I had done."

Andrew closed his eyes, and when he heard the words of the Father in his soul, he looked down at the little girl. "I'm not going to take you back there, instead we're going to see a friend of mine, and see if she can help you and your brother and sister out of this present situation."

"B-but, I'm afraid," Dawn said softly.

"I know you are honey, but unlike the God you have heard about in the sermons of Pastor Stevens, I will promise you that our Heavenly Father is the most loving and caring friend that you could ever wish for. He will always love you, Dawn, and He weeps when He hears of the pain you have endured," Andrew paused as he took a deep breath. "Believe me when I tell you this, sweetheart, there is nothing horrible or terrible about you. You are so special because you are God's beautiful child and no matter what anyone says, the Father knows you better than anyone, because He created you."

Dawn looked at him. "You mean it?"

Andrew smiled weakly and nodded. "Of that you can be certain."

Andrew and Dawn's Flashback End

Dawn had tears streaming down her cheeks as she recalled the event that had established her friendship with Andrew. "You didn't come to me that night because of Christina?"

"No, I came because I care for you, and I won't ever stop. As Tess sometimes says, 'love is like air, there is plenty to go around for everyone', and Dawn, I will always have love in my heart for you, and that will have nothing to do with Christina, it will only have to do with you," he smiled gently.

The young girl nodded. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I seemed to have done everything wrong. I just thought…"

"I know," Andrew said softly. "But, Dawn, don't ever believe that God would not think of you. Maybe He's just waiting for the right moment, but don't wait for Him to show up, just know that He loves you, and chances are, you may see Him again when you least expect it."

The teenager nodded. "At least I didn't say anything stupid to Him earlier," she mused as she glanced back and could see that Jeremy was walking with Christina towards the elevators and the look on his face was not overly happy. In fact, he looked rather apprehensive.

Andrew rested a hand on her shoulder. "Do you feel any better?" He asked.

"I'm exhausted, I probably haven't been this tired in ages. Thankfully it's Friday, because I am at the end of my rope," she whispered.

"Then, we can head for the house," he said smiling.

"You're not leaving?" She asked. "I figured that you would take off now that everyone is OK and that nothing catastrophic has happened here."

"Well, there is still a few things that I need to tend to, but the Father has said that as long as Christina and Jeremy haven't any objections, that I could stay with your family."

"I think I'd like that," she said smiling weakly at him. "There are a few things I want to do to make this past week up to you."

"You mustn't do anything, Dawn, I do understand," he said, "but if you want to do something for someone, maybe you should concentrate on doing something for Christina."

She nodded, but looked at him, her eyes filled with sadness. "I want to do for you, too though. Would you really deny me the chance to show you what a special friend you are?"

The angel smiled weakly, but shook his head. "OK."

*****

Back at the park, the Father was still consoling Denise, the teenager had cried herself dry, her face now covered with red blotches, her eyes sore from having shed so many tears. Yet, she remained wrapped comfortingly in His arms, her body literally limp from the emotional strain she was under. The Father was left literally holding her up so that she would not slide to the ground. She remained in His arms as He brushed His hand through her now tangled hair.

"I need to take you home, soon," He eventually said.

She shook her head and buried her face against Him. "I don't want to go back there," she whispered stubbornly. "What would I say to them anyway? They all think it's my fault and won't listen to anything I say."

He brushed a gentle hand through her hair. "You don't know that yet, and you are scared to find out, but I can assure you that no one blames you for what has happened."

"I do," she said sadly.

"I know you do, look at Me, sweetheart," He said gently. "Come on, that's it, now listen. You are afraid that they will get angry, but you don't know what happened upstairs after you and I left and came here, but I do, and I can tell you that both Christina and Jeremy have a lot to think about, but they can't resolve things with you unless you give them a chance."

"You want me to go back?" She mused.

"What you do makes no difference to Me, but it can make all the difference in the world to you," He said. "Most people cannot accept that I Am impartial as to what they do, but it's true, that's why you have free will. It is My gift to you, Denise."

The teenager nodded as though she understood, but He could tell that she was having a very hard time grasping all the things they had been talking about. What she did know was the more she was around Him, the more everything seemed to make sense. Instead of speaking of this, she kept her head down.

"Denise, is everything OK?" He asked gently.

She shrugged her shoulders, but no words emerged.

He smiled gently at her. "I know that all the things I have told you are hard to understand, and that it seems so strange to you, but the truth is sometimes the most complex concept are, also the simplest to deal with."

Denise nodded. "I was just thinking about how much sense everything makes when I am with You. It's as though I have no reason to be scared."

"You don't," He said. "Are you ready to go home?"

"I guess I should have gone with my parents and Dawn," she mused.

"Your parents?" He smiled. "Denise did you notice that this is the first time you have ever referred to Christina and Jeremy as your parents since you came to live with them?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's stupid for me to call them Christina and Jeremy anymore, my real parents have been dead for nine years. I mean, they probably don't care if I call someone else 'Mom' and 'Dad', so I guess it's not really a big deal."

"It is to Christina and Jeremy, Denise," He said gently.

"I'll believe that when I see it," Denise mused.

"Then I'll drive you home, and you can see for yourself. But, once you get out of the car, it will be up to you to go inside, sit down, and talk to them about what happened. I know you're strong, but Andrew will be there with you when you talk to Christina, and he is your friend, too. I don't just send angels to be with Christina and Jeremy, when I send them to this town, there is always a reason and although Andrew may come in contact with Christina, it doesn't mean that she is the primary reason for his coming. Nine years ago, I sent them to be with you, your sister, and brother."

"Dawn thought it was because of Christina," she whispered.

"I know, I heard that conversation a few days ago, and I will talk to Dawn about it, and before I leave, she will know who I Am, but as much as you may want to tell them who Al is, please don't, it might make things harder."

"I won't, I mean who would believe me if I say that God is a teenage boy with a 'Holy Rollers' t-shirt?" She asked weakly.

"I would." He smiled impishly at her.

Denise returned the gesture, but after a few seconds, she looked away. "What's the point to all of this? Why do I have to go through all of this stuff with them?"

"The point or the reason behind it is forgiveness. Denise, if you want to resolve things with your family, then you need to give them a chance to seek that forgiveness from you. Are you willing to listen to them as they try to rectify things with you?" He asked.

"It's hard to," she whispered.

"I know, but it will make you feel better if you give them a chance to tell you how they feel," He smiled gently at her. "It's your decision. I won't try to pressure you into anything, but I do know that after you talk to them, you will feel better."

Denise thought for some time and then nodded. "OK, You win, I'll go back."

"I'm not in this to win, you know?" He asked gently as she nodded but got to her feet. The Father stood up as well and He put His hand on her shoulder and led her in the direction of a car that was parked in the adjacent parking lot.

Denise shook her head as they reached the car. "I don't know what to think anymore, sometimes I think You're doing my thinking for me."

He chuckled softly but shook His head. "No, you have free will, Denise, and I would never force My will on you. I do make observations and suggestions, but I only ask that you think about what it is you want to do with regards to this situation. I know that you are angry and hurt because of what has been happening, and I Am just here to give you some ideas of what options you have."

The girl nodded. "OK, I'll try, but if everyone starts yelling at me, then I've decided that I would just leave, and it would be tonight."

"Leave?" He looked at her.

"Yeah, skip town, head for the hills. I'm not going to stay here if they decide to go off on me again," she said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

The Father sighed, but nodded. "OK, but promise Me one thing, if you decide that you really want to leave, then you let Me come with you."

"Why would You want to do this if You think it's wrong?" She asked weakly.

"Because first of all, there is nothing wrong, and secondly, because I love you, and I don't want to see you get hurt again," He said gently. "I happen to know that when a person is hurting, that they become more susceptible to this, and I don't want to see you get hurt again."

Denise sighed, but eventually, she nodded. Once He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, she looked down at her lap, but once they were on the road, she looked over at Him. "Why am I so important to You?" She eventually found the courage to ask.

"Shall I reel off the list?" He asked softly, but instead of trying to keep driving, He pulled the car off the road and turned to face her, His eyes the epitome of gentility. "Denise, I chose to come to you because I know how you have been feeling. I know that feeling forgotten is really hard and I wanted you to know that you're so important to Me that I would come all this way to let you know. Now, Christina and Jeremy both know that I Am, or in this case, was, Mr. Gottlieb, but they don't know who Al is. I will tell you that regardless of what Jeremy or Christina say about Al, you won't be alone, I won't take off if Jeremy decides my hair is too long or I shouldn’t have led you into danger today. Whatever argument he may have about Me, you're not going to lose Me or My presence in your life, and when I go back Home, I will still be with you, and I won't ever leave you, OK?"

"I was scared that I would lose You, just like so many others," she whispered.

"I know, but you won't, I promise," He smiled at her as He brushed a gentle hand against her cheek. "Now, do you feel any better?"

"A little, but what if Jeremy does it again? Will You just keep changing your appearance just so that I can be with You?" She asked weakly.

"If that is what needs to be done, then yes, I will," He smiled.

Denise looked at Him as He pulled back on the street. "You really would?"

The Father nodded. "Yes, and did you notice that you're getting better about looking at Me?"

She looked away, her face flushing crimson, but instead of comment on this, He merely chuckled softly.

*****

Ten minutes later, He pulled the car up to the curb and Denise looked over at the driveway and could see that both Christina and Jeremy's cars were parked in the driveway. "I guess this is it, huh?" She eventually spoke, her voice catching in her throat.

"You're going to be OK," He said gently as He reached over and brushed a lock of her hair from her face. "You know that no matter what happens, you won't be alone, and once you have taken care of this, you'll probably sleep much better tonight."

She nodded as she got out of the car. "I'll see You tomorrow, won't I?" She asked softly, her voice trembling with nervousness.

"Yeah, just keep your eyes open for the new kid in town," He smiled winking at her. "I'll be in your algebra class and I'm the new tenor in the choir."

"You already know about that?" She asked.

"Hey I know everything, kind of goes with the territory," He said smiling impishly, and she giggled despite herself. "You should do that more often, I hear it extends your life."

"Sometimes You're really funny," she whispered.

"Yeah well, I don't do the somber rooms and the candles all the time," He winked at her as he gunned the motor and started to pull away from the curb. "See you tomorrow, sweetie." He called out as He waved. She returned the gesture and watched until He rounded a corner at the end of the block and disappeared in the distance.

Once He was gone, she reached into her pocket, pulled out her key, and made her way up to the front door. She unlocked and opened it before going inside all the while, her thoughts a jumble. She closed the door behind her and began to look around the loving room, the silence of the room causing her to sigh with relief. I wonder where everyone is, she thought to herself as she realized that no one appeared to be home, contrary to the cars being in the driveway outside. Sighing deeply, she concluded that she would have to spend the evening alone all the while stewing about all of this.

She started to walk towards the stairs with the intention of going up to her room. As she reached the landing, her mind was literally consumed with troubled thoughts. As she grasped the railing, she could hear Christina's voice emerging throughout the house. "Denise, is that you?"

The teenager stopped walking and turned around, all the while intending on speaking. "Yes," she eventually managed to speak, her voice somewhere between a whisper and an utterance.

Seconds later and Christina came out into the living room, her eyes scanning the room and she smiled weakly when her gaze locked with that of her daughter. "Denise, can we talk?" She whispered, the nervousness evidently showing, but it was obvious to the teenager that this was as hard for Christina as it was for her.

"OK," the teenager whispered. "B-but where is everyone?"

"Jeremy and Dawn went with Tess to the grocery store. Andrew's upstairs resting, I guess today took a lot out of him," Christina said.

"How can an angel need rest?" Denise asked.

"I don't know, but I suppose when they are among us, they need to have the same sorts of things we need," she shrugged her shoulders. "Anyway, I thought while we were alone that you and I could sit down and talk. It's been awhile since we really talked about anything of significance and I thought that if you wanted to, we could," She said somewhat nervously.

"Yeah, I guess so," Denise nodded, but her eyes were still on the ground.

"I guess we could sit down in here, or would you rather go up to your room?" Christina offered weakly, but was relieved when Denise nodded and the two of them went up the stairs. When they got to Denise's room, they went inside and Denise plopped down on the bed and Christina reached for the beanbag chair that was in front of the desk.

"I love these things," she said smiling as she sank down on it. Denise smiled weakly, and once they were seated, Christina looked over at her. "I wanted to talk to you about that crazy stunt you pulled this afternoon…" her voice trailed.

Denise sighed, here it comes, she thought sadly to herself, but something inside of her could almost detect that Christina wasn't angry, she was simply worried. "I…" she began to speak, but when she saw Christina's eyes, her voice trailed off.

"Denise…I'm not mad at you. What happened today wasn't because I was angry with you, the truth is I was afraid, no I was terrified, and…" Her voice trailed again.

"You were frightened, I thought I was going to have a heart attack or something, but Al…" her voice trailed.

"Al?" Christina looked at her. "Is that the boy who was with you this afternoon? Was He the one who convinced you to go up there?"

"It's not His fault," Denise objected.

"I wasn't implying that," Christina offered weakly. "The truth is, I know that you and He saved my life today. It was a crazy thing to do, but it was very brave, Denise. Ironically, if you were to talk to my mother, she would tell you that I was capable of the same kind of insanity myself."

"Really?" Denise asked.

"Oh yes, I've had my heyday and I've done things that people would think were crazy, but I have to ask you why did you do this if you knew that it would have been dangerous?" Christina asked. "Was Al the reason? If so then He's a very brave young man."

"He encouraged me, but He didn't convince me," Denise said softly as Andrew tapped on the door and both of them looked over at him. His eyes were filled with sincerity, but he still looked tired. Denise crawled over to one side of the bed and Andrew came in and sat down not too far away from her.

"Andrew, do you know anything about this friend of hers?" Christina suddenly asked.

The angel looked at Denise and then at Christina. "All I know is that He and Denise saved your life today, Christina, if they hadn't have come into the room when they did, you would have died today."

Christina looked at him. "I know that. I already told Denise about that, well everything except the light show and the handsome angel who was by my side the entire afternoon."

Denise looked at him. "You were there the whole time?"

"Yes I was, and Christina was very brave, Denise," Andrew said and looked at Denise, whose head was now down and she was staring at her lap. The angel reached over and touched her head. "What is it Denise?"

"I was just thinking is all," she whispered.

"What about?" Christina asked from her place on the beanbag chair.

"I wish I could tell you, Mom," Denise whispered.

Christina, despite her worries for her daughter, smiled weakly. "Andrew, did you hear that, she just called me 'Mom'?" She shook her head, the tears suddenly brimming from beneath her eyes as she looked at her daughter. "Why did you decide this after all this time?"

Denise shook her head. "I don't know, I guess I wanted to before but I was scared to, I have always been shoved to the back and people don't notice me, so I figured that if I started that, then people would probably think it was a ploy for attention."

"No, it wouldn't have been, sweetheart," Christina said softly as she tried to get up from the beanbag chair and with Andrew's help, she managed and came over and sat down on the other side of her daughter. "I know that you feel as though you are always in the background, but it's not true. I love you, Denise, and you and Dawn are so special to me. I don't expect you to be like your brother or your sister, I just want you to be you."

"You didn't?" Denise asked weakly.

"No, I didn't, in fact, I know that I was too distracted to recognize what was happening, but I love you, I always have and always will," she whispered.

"I guess after I was attacked last week, I thought…" Her voice trailed as the flow of words abruptly stopped, and she suddenly felt that Andrew had reached over and touched her shoulder once again, his soft hand moving up and touching one side of her face.

"Just tell her, Denise," Andrew whispered.

"I thought that…that you were mad at me," Denise said softly, her voice cracking with nervousness. "I-I was scared to say anything. After I was attacked, I felt ignored, so when I would go to school, I would start talking to talking to Mr. Gottlieb. He was so nice, I mean, we would sit during the free period and would talk about everything. He would listen to me when I talked about Jo, and then about what was happening here. He never judged me, He just talked to me as though I was important and special. It was strange, but every time we spoke, He would mention God, and I remembered Patrick or Pastor Stevens, and those were the things that I just wanted to forget."

"I can understand that," Christina said.

"How do you deal with things like that?" Denise asked softly. "I mean; you don't seem to have any problems at all."

"Oh I do, I guess I was just good at covering them up. The truth is, I'm more angry with myself then I ever could be with you," Christina said softly as she looked at her daughter. "I made a lot of mistakes these past weeks, but the biggest one was ignoring you and making you go through all these ordeals alone. The truth is, I held off telling you something that I should have told you and Dawn about years ago."

"What are you talking about?" Denise asked softly. She looked at Andrew, but knew that the angel would not provide the answers she was looking for.

Christina looked at her. "This happened back when I was fifteen. It was around this time of year. A boy named Steve had invited me to the prom. He was every girl's dream, but he became my nightmare because the night of the prom, he raped me and I came down with pneumonia after he left me alone out in the middle of nowhere some ten miles out of town."

"How did you get back?" Denise asked softly, her voice soft, but all the while, she was still curious as to how Christina had managed to survive this situation, especially since God hadn't been physically present to help her.

Christina took a deep breath as she began to tell her daughter what had happened that night and how she had ended up stranded in the middle of nowhere on what was supposed to have been the happiest night of her life.

Christina's Flashback

Christina was angry, never in her life had she been as angry as she was at that moment. Her blue ball gown was torn, and it barely offered her the warmth she needed from the cool spring breeze. It had started out to be fun, but now, she had been dumped on the side of the road after her date had taken advantage of her and she had tried desperately to push him away. He had left her there, just like that, now she was stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Shaking her head, she pulled the strap of her purse up to her shoulder and continued the long trek back into town. “God,” she began to pray. “I know this isn’t the safest place for me to be right now, but I didn’t end up here willingly, so please protect me and help me get back home safely. Thank you, I love you.”

Moments later, and she could feel the first drops of rain falling on her. Gee, what next, she thought bitterly. Suddenly she could see a car coming up the road and she tried to move closer to the side of the road with the hope that the person driving would see her and offer to take her along.

At the very least, they could drive her to the next gas station so she could call her parents and ask them to come get her. When the car approached and passed not even slowing down, she sighed deeply and continued walking in the direction of the city. The rain was now falling much stronger than before and she could feel the skirt of her dress beginning to stick to her skin. If I don’t get in out of this weather I’ll catch my death. Sighing deeply, she continued walking towards town, the rain getting heavier by the second. She could feel the water falling on her skin and now it was coming down in sheets.

I’ve got to find some sort of shelter, she thought to herself, but where? She began to sneeze, and instead of trying to pull a tissue from her purse, she wiped her wet hand across her nose. It was getting harder, she was cold, and with the rainwater penetrating her skin, she could feel herself starting to shiver. I have to find something or I will freeze out here, but where? I’m at least ten miles from town, and in the middle of nowhere. What am I going to do, she asked herself. She finally got down on her knees and folded her hands. “God, please send me some help,” she pleaded, her voice drifting up to the heavens.

She shook her head as she sneezed once again. Her body was getting colder, she rested her face in her lap and began to cry softly all the while trying desperately to maintain the warmth only her body could provide.

The rain continued to pour down on her, but moments later, Christina felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and she looked up. All she could see was a tall man standing in front of her. He was looking down at her, but because of the darkness, she could not see his face. “Christina, don’t be afraid honey, I’m here to help you. But, right now we need to get you to some place warm and dry. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright.”

She immediately recognized the voice, but still could not see his face. “Andrew?”

“Yes,” he reached for her hands and when she offered them to him, he helped her off the ground.

“But how? I mean what happened?” she whispered.

“Shhh, I’ll answer all your questions later, but right now, you need to get warm and dry or you’ll catch your death out here,” he said gently and put his arm around her trembling shoulders and led her to Tess’ red convertible.

Christina's Flashback End

"You came to her rescue?" Denise looked at the angel. "But why did this even happen?"

"He was afraid," Andrew said gently. "His mother had died, and he knew that I was an Angel of Death. He used this knowledge as a means to get revenge on Christina, and he did so by robbing her of her innocence. After we had been sent to her, we took her to the apartment where we were living and I stayed with her as the story came out. Monica had been sent to Steve, and I remained with Christina, but she was getting sicker from her misadventures in the rain. I will never forget that Christina told me after we had gotten her to the hospital that she would go through it again for me."

Denise looked at her adoptive mother, who simply nodded her head. "Our friendship started on Halloween, Denise, I was seven-years-old."

Andrew nodded. "Yes, and Christina was such a sweet, loving, little girl. She had actually taken it upon herself to be there for me when I had been sad."

"What happened though, why were you sad?" She asked.

"It was Halloween, and Andrew's not the biggest attraction for Halloween parties," Christina said softly. "I'll never forget that night as long as I live, and you obviously remember, Andrew."

"Yes, as though it were yesterday," the angel said softly.

"You mean, that guy Steve raped you because you comforted an angel?" Denise looked from the angel to her mother and when they both nodded, she spoke, her voice abrupt. "That's absurd."

"Yes, it is, but it is no more absurd than a group of boys trying to harm you," Christina said softly, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried without much success at getting her wayward emotions under some kind of control.

"I thought you were mad at me about that," Denise whispered, her emotions starting to get the better of her as well.

Andrew, seeing this, wrapped the teenager in his arms and held her as she began to cry bitterly. "It's OK," he whispered gently, but she remained in his arms, her face meshed against his chest, her body literally trembling with each wracking breath that she took. "That's it, just let it out, you're not alone, Denise."

Christina nodded and despite her own emotional state, she reached over and touched her daughter's head. "Nobody's angry with you, little one, least of all me."

Denise raised her head and looked at the angel who held her. "Nobody?"

"Nobody," he affirmed. "You already know how much the Father loves you, Denise. He came and told you that Himself."

"But, I still don't understand how anyone could blame you for someone dying and then turn around and hurt someone else," Denise whispered. "That doesn't make any sense to me."

"No you're right, sweetheart," Christina said gently, but took a deep breath. "Is it possible that maybe you have been avoiding Andrew for the same reason, just because of what is happening with Jo and that you know she's dying?"

Denise sat up and looked at her. "No," her defensive voice emerged, but after a few seconds she looked at Andrew. The angel neither nodded nor shook his head, instead, his steady gaze remained on her. Eventually, she looked away, her head staring down at her lap. "I guess I was angry with you, Andrew. I was just afraid to tell anyone that I was scared because of Jo. I know it sounds stupid, but I've been feeling so helpless in all of this and I wanted you and Dad to know that I was sorry for everything that I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Christina began. "We did, we made mistakes, we hurt you, but the reasons weren't intentional. Ever since you were attacked, I had tried to keep myself distanced from it because I knew that if I really showed you how I felt, that you would see me as being weak and powerless."

"She told Dawn earlier that if she had started to cry, she probably wouldn't have stopped," Andrew said softly.

"But, you're not weak, I mean, you managed to hold off a crazed woman with a gun," Denise said smiling weakly. "If that's not strong and confident than I don't know what is."

Christina shook her head. "No, I just have had a lot of experience at keeping a cool head about things, but Denise, it was you who saved my life; it was you who came in there with more courage than anyone I have ever seen in my life, and you brought this while nightmare to an end."

"If I did that, then why did Dad get so mad at me?" Denise asked weakly.

"The reason is because he was scared for both of us," Christina began. "You know beneath that rough, take charge, personality of his, he is really a very gentile person, and he is a very caring one, too," Christina said softly. "Jeremy and I were both deeply disturbed by the fact that you had been hurt by those boys, but God was the One who saved you, not us. I think that Jeremy was probably saddened that someone else had been there for you and not him. He takes his role of father and protector very seriously. Chances are, he probably got upset at the Father because neither of us could help you. But, it was God who was with you, Denise, did you know that? The Father of us all was with you and He saved your life."

"I didn't know at the time, but when I found out earlier today who He was, it was weird for me. I mean; even after all the horrible things I said about Him and how angry I was with Him, He just talked to me, Mom, it was like all my feelings and stuff were real to Him, they weren't bad or anything, they were just…"

"…Accepted? Understood?" She asked.

"Yeah," Denise looked at her. "But how did you know?"

"The Father was here the day Andrew arrived and He talked to me too," Christina said softly. "I haven't seen Him since He came by my office, but your father did a sketch of Him based on Dawn's description and we realized that your teacher Mr. Gottlieb and the Father were one and the same. Andrew helped a bit with that, though."

Denise nodded. "He said that Mr. Travers was going to be back tomorrow," she offered.

"Something tells me you're going to miss Him," Andrew said looking at her.

"I guess," Denise whispered, but Christina stood up.

"I need to get something to drink, my throat is dry, but I'll be back in a few minutes, OK?" Christina said softly as she walked towards the door.

"Mom?" Denise spoke, thus causing her mother to stop and turn around.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for talking to me, I really do feel a lot better," Denise said softly.

"Good, so do I," Christina said as she left the room.

Once Denise was alone with Andrew, she looked over at him to see that the angel was staring at her; his green eyes filled with gentility, but hidden in them was a mischievous glint. "What?" She eventually asked him.

"Something tells me that you had a hard time back there, especially when you mentioned Al," Andrew smiled.

"I made Him a promise is all," she said softly. "I mean; I would have liked to have told Mom that Al is the Father, but chances are she wouldn't believe me." She looked at the angel. "Andrew, I'm sorry that I wasn't very nice to you. It wasn't anything personal, it was just that…" her voice trailed off and she lowered her head shamefully.

"Denise, I really do understand," he said softly. "I've been an easy target for a long time, you really have no reason to apologize to me. I know that you've been afraid because of what has happened with Jo, and I really do understand."

"I guess I was angry because I thought it was just a job to you, but she's my best friend," the teenager whispered. "I found out only today that she did all this stuff at the community center, this child abuse prevention stuff because of me and Dawn. Oh Andrew, all she wants is to find her peace, and she won't until I let go, but I can't, because it's so hard."

"I know," the angel whispered gently as he brushed a gentle hand against her cheek. There he could feel the moisture from the tears that were relentlessly streaming down over her face. "You have carried the fear of loss for a very long time, I, sadly, represent that to you, and have probably done so since the day we met. Do you remember that day, Denise?" He asked gently. "You were afraid of me, because you knew who I was. You had seen it in Patrick's drawing, in the words below my picture."

Denise nodded. "Yeah, I remember, and what happened that night, I had woken up and couldn't go back to sleep…"

Denise and Andrew's Flashback

Denise could see that Dawn was still asleep and she pushed the covers aside and walked towards the door. Once out in the hallway, she could see the light was still on in Christina and Jeremy's bedroom. Quietly, she crept down the stairs and into the living room. She could see the light was on in the study, but she walked towards the living room and sat down on the sofa and stared outside through the patio doors.

Seconds passed and the door to the study opened. She turned around and could see that Andrew had come out of the room and was walking slowly towards the kitchen. When he reached the living room, he stopped and could see that Denise was seated on the sofa, but that she had turned around and was now peering up at him as he came through the room.

"Hello," Andrew spoke, his voice soft and the little girl ducked back down hoping to hide herself amongst the cushions. Instead of going towards the kitchen, Andrew walked over to a chair and sat down hoping all the while to keep a safe distance from the little girl.

When she didn't say anything, he began to speak. "Denise, I'm so sorry I frightened you."

The little girl nodded numbly, but it appeared as though she did not want to speak to him. Instead she looked back over at the door leading outside. After a few moments passed, she finally found the courage to look at him, but the words would not come and she wiped her hand over her eyes.

"You like the nighttime, don't you?"

"My daddy was an astronomer," Denise said softly, her words emerging barely above a whisper.

"You enjoy being outside at night, then huh?"

Denise nodded. "It's pretty."

"Yes, it is," he nodded and smiled gently at her as he watched her stare out at the blackness of the night sky. "Do you want to go outside?" He asked as he stood up.

"Uh-huh," she spoke weakly, but crawled off the couch and followed him over to the patio door. Once he opened it, they walked outside, and he pulled the door closed behind them. "Is my daddy up there somewhere?" She finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Andrew nodded. "Yes, he is."

Denise looked at him and after some moments of silence passed between them, she spoke. "You scare me."

"I know," he said softly. "I wish I didn't."

"You do?"

Andrew said nothing, he simply nodded, but after a few moments, he sat down on one of the chairs and looked out across the yard, the tears brimming from beneath his eyes, but what happened next took him by complete surprise.

Denise pulled a second chair over next to him and sat down next to where he was. Once she was comfortable, she reached over and touched his hair, the golden locks caressing her fingertips. "You have really pretty hair."

Andrew smiled weakly at her. "Thank you, so do you."

Denise withdrew her hand and looked down at her lap. "My friends talked about angels when we were painting pictures, but I didn't know if I was worth having an angel wanting to take care of me, so I said nothing."

"You are worth it, Denise," Andrew said softly. "Why do you not believe that?"

She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at the ground.

"I know what you have been told about God, Denise, Dawn told me how things were with the Stevens when she went to the cemetery to visit your daddy," Andrew began.

"She did?"

"Mm-hum," he nodded.

Denise could feel the tears in her eyes and as they trickled down over her face, she looked at him. "I don't want God to hate me," she whispered. "I wanted Him to be my friend, to not be angry with me because I'm so bad."

"Sweetheart, you're not bad," Andrew said gently. "And God is your friend. Do you think that if He was truly angry with you, that He would send you angels to take care of you; to help you?"

"I don’t know," she whispered.

"I know that you saw my picture in Patrick's sketchbook, and I know that I scare you, but I promise you that you have nothing to be afraid of," Andrew said softly, his voice cracking with emotion.

Denise stood up and walked towards the edge of the patio and she sat down on the grass, the moistness of it penetrating her nightgown but she didn't seem to mind. She reached over and took a small flower in her hand and looked down at it as he stood up, came over, and sat down on the grass next to her.

For some time, they sat in companionable silence, until Denise finally broke that silence. "Is Heaven really wonderful?"

"Yes, it is," Andrew said gently. "It's the most beautiful place you can imagine."

"My mommy's dying," Denise said softly, "but I don't want her to."

"I know, but do you know what?" Andrew asked softly.

The little girl shook her head.

"Your mom will never feel the pain that she felt here," Andrew said softly. "God will hold her in His love and she will be at peace forever."

"Is that what really happens? I always heard that it was horrible, that my family would never be deserving of God's love," Denise said softly.

"I know what you heard, but that's not the truth," Andrew said gently as he reached over and touched the tearstained face of the little girl. "God loves you, Denise, and He loves your sister and your brother very much. The love He has for you is so very special; it is more special and more beautiful than anything you can imagine. God wants to be your friend, Denise, He wants to help you find your true path to Him, and no matter what happens, He will carry you when the road gets too hard and He will love you without conditions, because He made you."

Denise looked back down at her lap but within moments, she could feel the angel drawing her into his arms and holding her. As she felt his arms around her, she could feel the tears continuing to stream down her cheeks. "H-He does?"

Andrew took her face in his hands and tipped her chin up so that she would be looking into his eyes. "He does, Denise, God loves you and when you weep, He weeps with you, because you are His child, His beautiful and loving child and you will always be His little girl."

"Why did He take my daddy away?" Denise continued to cry.

"He didn't want your father to suffer, so He sent me to lead your daddy to Him, and I know that this was hard for you, but He didn't have your daddy come home to make you sad," Andrew said gently. "God knows that tragedy has come to your family, but that's why He sent us to be with you and your brother and sister, but it was also Him who made it possible for you to meet Christina, Jeremy, and Laura."

"D-do you mean, w-we don't have to go back to the Stevens?" Denise asked.

"No, you don't," Andrew smiled gently at her. "You're in a safe place here, Denise."

"My brother is dying too, isn't he?" Denise asked after another minute or two had passed.

"Yes, he is, but he has time now, and you and your sister can help him make the best of the time he has," Andrew said gently. "Patrick has to learn to live before I can take him Home. He needs to know the truth about God, not these so-called 'truths' that Pastor Stevens related. To live in fear or to believe that the Father seeks revenge on you is not a part of God. God is the purest form of love that exists, and He wants you, Dawn, and Patrick to know that He loves you and that you have no reason to be afraid of Him, He'd never hurt you, and I'd never hurt you, either."

Seconds passed and Andrew could see that Denise was processing his words. She inched closer to him and allowed herself to collapse in his arms, the tears falling from her eyes. As her crying became stronger, she meshed her face against his chest and wept, the sounds emerging in hiccup-like sobs.

"Shhh, it's OK, sweetheart, just let it out," Andrew said soothingly as he held her tightly in his arms. As she continued to weep bitterly, he pulled her onto his lap and held her until she cried herself dry and eventually slept cradled in his arms.

After some time had passed, Andrew stood up with the sleeping child in his arms and carried her into the house and up the stairs to the room she shared with Dawn. Once he managed to open the door, he carried her into the room and tucked her under the covers.

Before straightening out, he kissed the child gently on the forehead and crept silently from the room and closed the door before going back downstairs.

Denise and Andrew's Flashback End

"You've been afraid of me since that day, but you helped me too," Andrew said softly. "You were the part of this family that reminded me of who I am. I know that this sounds so strange to you, but Denise, whenever I come back here and I see you and the others, I feel myself as one of you, more as your friend, and less as an angel. It becomes hard, almost impossible to not get involved in the things you are doing, but all the while knowing what my limitations are."

As the tears streamed from beneath her eyes, she looked at him. "I saw you as an angel first, but that was wrong of me, I should have seen you as a friend, because you are, Andrew." As she spoke, her voice cracked with emotion, the guilt emerging in her words.

"No, there was nothing wrong in what you said or did, in fact, that enabled me to remember that God has a plan for all of your lives, and that I'm not the one to decide for you what that plan is going to be," he said weakly. "But, that won't ever change the love I carry in my heart for all of you."

Denise nodded, but after a few moments, she spoke, her voice still filled with a sense of melancholy. "That seems so horrible, almost lonely to me. It's like being at a dance and not being able to take part, just standing on the sidelines and watching, alone," she whispered. "I did that to you. Oh, Andrew, I'm so sorry." With that she broke down and began to cry bitterly.

Andrew looked up and could see that Christina was now standing in the doorway, a glass of water in her hand, but tears streaming down her face as she watched helplessly as her daughter was coping with the emotional pain she seemed to be collapsing under.

His attention diverted back to her, but the angel pulled her into his embrace, his arms wrapping around her as she wept. As he tightly held her in his embrace, he could feel her own arms wrapping around him as well, her face now pressed against his shoulder.

Moments passed and he began to whisper to her, his voice soothing. "Shhh," he cajoled her gently as he continued to stroke her hair, his actions only causing even more tears to stream from beneath her eyes. "It isn't a bad thing what you did, Denise, not by any means. You see, sweetheart, you are the balance, and in a family, balance is so important." He took her face in his gentle hands and tipped it up so that he would be looking into her eyes, his thumbs brushing the persistent tears away. "It is with friends as well. You know that I'm not always here, but when I am able to come, it's because the Father has decided that I need to be here, but being here with you and your family fills my heart with overwhelming joy."

"You mean with Christina…" Denise's voice trembled as she tried to get the words out, her sadness coming to a head.

"No, not just with Christina, but also with you. As much as she will always be my little angel, you will be too, Denise," Andrew said softly as he continued to brush the tears from beneath her eyes. "I love you, little one, I care for you as much as any angel is capable of doing. I only hope that you will not be too angry with me for the things I have to do."

"You mean, Jo?" Denise asked softly.

"Yes," he whispered. "Jo is getting ready for her journey Home, but you have a journey ahead of you too, Denise, and that is not determined by anyone else but you. I know that it is hard for you to go on after losing someone you love. I also understand how hard it is, but your validity as a person is not demonstrated by those who touch your life, but it's established by those who's lives you touch, and you have touched many lives, Denise."

"You don't understand," she whispered.

Andrew looked at her. "I do understand, it is simply that I know physical death isn't the end, you do not, you can only surmise it based on the words of others or through your faith. For me, it is so much easier to help those who leave this life and go into the next one, because I know, I see it each time I escort someone to the other side. That doesn't change the fact that it is harder for you to talk about it, or to reconcile it."

"But why do kids die?" She asked weakly.

"I don't know, only the Father knows, and asking Him may not reap the answers you want to hear, but they will be the utmost truth," the angel said sincerely. "I won't lie to you, it breaks my heart to have to take children Home, but I am comforted in the knowing that God takes these children in His love and welcomes them to eternity."

"You make it sound nice…" she said, her voice barely audible, but when she saw him nodding, she knew that he had heard her words.

"Yes, it is nice, it's rather beautiful actually," he said gently, as continued to hold her in the sanctuary of his embrace. "One day, I'll share that with you, Denise."

"Y-You would be my angel?" She asked meekly.

"If that is your wish, then yes, I would," he said softly.

The teenager could feel the tears in her eyes and she nodded, all the while trying to brush the sadness from her eyes. "I thought you'd be angry with me…" she mused, her voice trailing off.

"I was never angry with you," He said softly as he held his hand out and Christina came back into the room, the woman sitting down on the bed and she looked at her daughter who now was in the angel's arms. She brushed a gentle hand through Denise's locks of red curly hair. After a few moments, Andrew drew Christina into the embrace and the three of them sat wrapped in each other's arms.

No further words were spoken.

*****

The lights of the supermarket beckoned Jeremy, Tess, and Dawn as they pulled into the parking lot and Tess cut the motor. Dawn crawled out of the backseat and followed the angel and her father towards the doors leading inside. "Would it be OK if I go and look at some stuff while you guys are getting the food?"

"Of course, baby, I'm certain that that would be just fine," Tess said smiling and Jeremy nodded.

Dawn smiled weakly as she walked slowly away, her thoughts a jumble but she was not sure if she really wanted to even be in this place. She thought about how it would be much better if she had spent the afternoon in her room listening to CDs, but the suggestion from Tess seemed to be the right thing for her, so she had reluctantly agreed to go.

She walked slowly through the aisles, the potato chips on one side, and dips on the other. She had wanted to get some corn chips, but opted against asking her father, he seemed to be caught up in his own worries, and the last thing she wanted to do was to get in the way. Things seemed to be pretty much a mess, but this was something that she had quickly grown accustomed to.

"Hey Denise," she turned when she heard a voice calling the name of her sister. Instead of scowling at the mistake, she turned around and watched as a boy with long brown hair and blue eyes approached.

"I'm not Denise, I'm her sister, Dawn," she said, all the while trying to keep her voice from emerging curt, but not being overly successful at it. She regarded the youth wearing the black t-shirt and watched as he pulled the band from his ponytail and retied it.

"Sorry, I just saw the back of your head," the boy offered once he had finished pulling the hair out from in front of his eyes.

"You're the guy from downtown, right?" Dawn asked somehow recognizing him, she had seen him at her mother's office building, but who he specifically was remained somewhat a mystery to her. "I don't think I caught your name."

"Al," He said smiling gently at her. "I'm new at your school actually and I wanted to come down and pick up some munchies." He motioned towards the chips and reached for a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips. "These look good," He mused as He put the bag into the small hand-held basket He carried.

She nodded trying not to notice what it was He was doing, instead her eyes remained downcast. "You talked to my sister?" She eventually asked.

"Yeah," He nodded. "She and I are both in the choir, but I sort of ran into her downtown when I was at that park. You know the one with the large white gazebo and the small pond with the ducks? Anyway, I suppose I should have known about you, she had told me that she had a twin sister. I'm sorry I didn't realize it until you said something. I suppose you and her are used to being mixed up."

"Don't worry about it, usually people mistake her for me, so I guess this is her poetic justice," Dawn said shrugging her shoulders. "At least, until just recently when she got into this project at the community center."

"I heard about that," He offered softly. "Do you help her with this?"

"No, I have enough worries without adding that one to the list three miles long, besides, I think that she needs this group, at least it gives her some of the attention," she said shrugging her shoulders. "I know that sounds really bad, but she doesn't really get all that much attention as things are, and it's kind of nice that she, at least, has this."

"You've been worried about her, haven't you?" He asked, His question emerging rather direct.

Upon hearing this, Dawn looked at Him somewhat crossly, but after a moment, she released a somewhat pent up sigh, and looked at Him. "Yeah, I guess I have. I guess she told You that we live with adoptive parents, but when our birth parents died, and then some years later our older brother died, we only had each other to lean on. So, I guess to answer Your question, I do worry about her sometimes. She's a good person, and she deserves to have really good friends, people who won't hurt her. So, if I even hear of You hurting her, then I'll knock you to the middle of next week, and I may only be a girl, but I did take some judo classes and I am not afraid to use it."

"Dawn, you have My word, I won't hurt her, not ever," He said softly as He rested a hand on her shoulder. "But as you know, everyone needs friends, right?"

"Yeah," she whispered as she walked down the aisle and He followed. Once they had reached the end, she could see a large selection of magazines and comic books. Her gaze came to rest on them, but after a few moments, she took a deep breath and looked up to see that He was still standing next to her and had obviously not yet taken His leave. "I guess I'm really glad that she has a friend in You, Al. It feels as though I've been ignoring her these past few weeks, but the truth is, I see that she is really unhappy and I just don't know what to say. I mean; no matter what it is I do, I think that maybe I'm the reason that she is so unhappy, that I caused her to feel this way for some strange reason."

"Why would you be?" He asked. "Denise really needs you, Dawn, if you stay too quiet, she may misinterpret it. Maybe you should sit down and talk to her, or at the very least, spend some time together. She misses you, and right now, she really needs her sister."

"I don't know, It feels like I've been too busy to even notice that she is going through something really traumatic. It is strange to tell You this, I mean I don't know You at all and yet I'm saying this. I'm sorry," she whispered. "Please, excuse me."

She started to walk away, but He reached out and touched her arm. "Dawn, I'm not just Denise's friend, I want to be your friend too."

Dawn nodded, but no words emerged. She looked down at the ground as she found the words she wanted to say, her words filled with pain. "I think that is really nice of You but I don't really want to do something to hurt her, and the way things are with us, it may seem as though I am trying to steal you away from my sister. I know that sounds really bad, and I don't think You're a bad person, Al, but I really think that Denise needs her own friends." With that, she walked slowly away, her head still hanging and He watched her go.

Tess, by this time spotted Him and had slowly walked over to where He was standing, His eyes watching the young girl as she walked away. Her gaze followed that of her Father, and eventually she looked at Him. "Pardon me for saying so, but this old angel has a very hard time seeing You looking much younger and more fit than myself, Father. Why do you look like a boy a few years after puberty?"

"If I had to look the part of your Father, Tess, then I would need the white hair and the Santa Claus beard," He chided her gently, His smile bright, but the angel scowled at the fun He was making about her age.

"That was not funny," she snapped defensively, her dark eyes not faltering.

"I know," He wrapped her in His arms and looked at her. "However, you know perfectly well that I Am not what I appear, and right now, Denise needs a friend, and I've been One who has been there for her. I know that I usually keep myself physically out of your cases, Tess, and believe Me, Sam has already said a few things to Me about this strange case, but something with Denise has not been working, you know it and I know it. Right now, she and a number of the kids in this town need a little bit of My support. Like Dawn, they may not know that I Am present, but they will come to realize it in time. Besides that," He looked at her and grinned. "Take a wild guess as to who is going to be Denise's date for the senior prom?"

Tess shook her head but her eyes widened as He smiled and pointed to Himself.

"Excuse me?" Tess asked shaking her head. "Father, You can't be a date for a teenage girl, You don't even know how to dance in that body and don't even ask me to teach You."

"Oh come now, Tess, you know that I can do all of them; the waltz, the tango, the rumba, I know them all. Andrew helped me with the rumba by the way," the Father smiled impishly. "Just watch Me move," with that He took a very surprised Tess in His arms and began to dance around the aisle with her.

"OK, Father, it's been proven, you can dance, but keep in mind, the kind of dances that kids today do pretty much mean less formal steps is better. Kids today have no idea how to handle these formal style dances," Tess said all the while shaking her head. "I've chaperoned a lot of them, and one thing is perfectly clear, if You watch a bunch of kids in evening gowns trying to dance to rock and roll music, You're existence in human form will never be the same again."

"OK, I'll keep that in mind," He said smiling, "but I have Denise to help Me, and I'm absolutely sure she would be able to teach Me to dance like kids today so that I don't stick out like a sore thumb, but I've been doing My share of observing and I think that I should be able to do these dances. All of that aside, who do you think inspired some of those really crazy dances anyway?"

"I take it that Denise know that she's got a date with God?" Tess asked.

"Sure, and she's really happy about it, too," He said but looked at her. "Listen Tess, I'm in control here, and even though I may have the body of a teenager, I know precisely what I'm doing," He smiled gently at her as He squeezed her shoulder. "So tell Me, How are things shaping with Jeremy?"

"Well, he seems to not like You whatever form You take, but he's distancing himself from Dawn, and I know how she reacted to Your offers of friendship," she said sadly. "The sad truth of the matter is that she's drifting away, her concerns for her sister are obviously the prevailing emotions she is carrying."

"Then I suppose you know what this means, Tess," He said softly. "I need to reach her and very soon. I will probably have to come back to her as Gottlieb, that's the only way she'll recognize me, but also because based on what happened, she doesn't accept Al as a friend. The other thing is, now that everyone in the family knows that I Am this choir director, then I think this role is the only individual that she will accept."

"When are you going to see Dawn, she's really starting to get lost in all of this?" Tess asked. "I think she is probably starting to think that You have been to see Christina, and Denise, and now she probably feels insignificant in comparison."

"Yes, and although I do understand that Dawn doesn't want to have the same friends as her sister, I think she'll eventually come around," He smiled. "With My charisma, I can't loose."

"Oh brother," Tess muttered under her breath as she shook her head.

"I'm joking, now you'd better get back to your assignment, and Tess, trust Me," He said smiling at her. "I Am still your Creator, even if I seem unbelievable at the moment."

"I trust You, but it is still very hard for me to call someone Father who looks like some of the smart aleck kids You have sent me to," Tess grumbled but she nodded and walked away.

The Father was left standing in the aisle, His eyes dancing in merriment in response to what the angel had told Him. Maybe this would be a lesson to My angels as well, He thought smiling, but that soon disappeared when He abruptly heard Jeremy's voice calling out to Him from the other end of the aisle. "Hey!" Instead of immediately responding, He walked in the direction of the man.

"Hello," He offered smiling as He looked at Jeremy.

"You were at the building with my daughter?" Jeremy offered, but his voice was filled with no-nonsense agitation.

"Yes, Denise is My friend," He responded. "My name is Al."

"I don't care what Your name is, I just want to know one thing, why did You convince her to go upstairs and put herself and my wife into danger?" Jeremy asked as he put his hands on his hips.

"I didn't make her do anything, she made the choice herself," came the soft response. "I don't go around pushing my friends into doing things that they don't want to do, but we agreed that we couldn't just sit around and do nothing, so the decision was made."

"The police were in control of the situation," Jeremy sneered.

"I understand that you were concerned, and that you didn't want a couple of teenagers to make you look bad in this," He responded but looked at the man. "I'm sorry if that was what appeared to have happened, however, I stand by what choices I made, and I am certain that Denise stands by hers. However, I can understand why it is that you thought what it was we had done was wrong."

"You're damn right I thought what You did was wrong. I will gladly supply You with a few more words, it was crazy, insane, ludicrous, absurd and foolish. Do You even realize that if my daughter wasn't in Your company that she probably would have known better than to pull a stunt like that?" He snapped. "Furthermore, I think it would be best if You stay away from her." Jeremy started to walk away.

"Just like everyone else she has befriended during the last few weeks," the words emerged thus causing Jeremy to stop dead in his tracks.

"You probably don't fully understand, but she's going through something very hard, very traumatic right now."

"Yes, and this is all the more reason I stay," the Father responded calmly.

"How can you be so sure about anything, much less what is best for my daughter?" Jeremy asked, his eyes filled with contempt. "Let's face it, You're just some smart mouthed kid, but I'm the one that has the best interests of my daughter in mind."

"I see, just as you had forbidden her from being around Mr. Gottlieb?" Came the soft question.

"How did you know about that?" Jeremy asked.

"Denise told me about it, she said that Mr. Gottlieb and her friend Jo were her only friends, they were the only people she could really talk to. You weren't listening to her this afternoon, you went and told Mr. Gottlieb that He was to have nothing further to do with her. You accused the guy of being a pervert, Mr. Lowery."

"She is eighteen-years-old, and she has really no business hanging around a man who is in his forties," Jeremy shot back. "I work for the police, Al, I know what kind of things happen to kids. We get calls daily about issues of child abuse, and I will be damned if I will watch my daughter go through something like that happened with the Christianson family, bless their hearts. I just won't consent to it."

"Yes, that may be so, but didn't someone tell you who He was, who Mr. Gottlieb was?" Al asked.

Jeremy felt his face flush, "I know now, but five hours ago, I didn't," he offered defensively. "Look, I know You mean well, but I will not stand here in the middle of a supermarket and try to defend my actions. I pray that God will forgive me for my paranoia, but I honestly didn't know and here, things are not as easy as they seem. People aren't always nice, Al, they do set out to hurt people, and my daughters have been hurt enough during the past nine years that I don't want that to happen to them again."

The Father nodded. "I'm not trying to argue with you," He offered after a few moments. "Mr. Lowery, Denise told Me that her best friend, Jo Peterson, is dying and that you had forbidden her from seeing Mr. Gottlieb, and this has completely torn her apart. I just think that it's really a pity for a young woman to be told by her father that she's not allowed to see her friends, especially when she feels that she doesn't have all that many friends left."

"What makes you so sure?" Jeremy asked. "My daughter has a lot of friends."

"Dawn perhaps, but Denise is still very shy," He said softly. "I don't mean to make things hard for you, but did you even know that she has been through so much emotional grief and most of it is because her family has been ignoring her? I know that I could go on and on, but I cannot help but ask if you are really willing to take the chance of losing her by telling her that she cannot see Me, as well? Especially now in the wake of everything that has transpired and because she and I are going to the prom together."

Jeremy looked at Him. "OK, I won't forbid it, but if You hurt her, then I won't be held responsible for what I may do. But, let me ask You this. If You really are her friend, then why did You convince her go upstairs and do what she did?"

"If we hadn't have gone upstairs, your wife would have died this afternoon," He said softly.

"How do You know that?" Jeremy asked.

"Well, let Me put it this way, your family is not the only one around who have friends who are angels from God," He said smiling and turned with the intention of walking away.

"So an angel told You?" Jeremy asked.

Instead of responding to this statement, He looked at the man standing before Him. "Please, do your family a favor and talk to your daughter, Mr. Lowery, tell her how you feel, but don't be angry with her, she has had enough anger to last years. Right now, she needs the loving support and understand of her family. She needs to know that you are all there, that you love and care for her, that you are not going to turn away from her because you don't comprehend what it is she has done. Instead, just give her a chance to tell you why she did what she did. Without that, you may lose her, and that would be a terrible tragedy."

Jeremy sighed but eventually he offered a hesitant nod before turning away and walking with weighted steps towards the check out line. The Father nodded and smiled as he disappeared. When Jeremy turned back around to say something else to the young friend of his daughter, he realized that the young man was gone.

*****

Jeremy's thoughts were literally buzzing when he came in the house later that evening. Once he had deposited the bags in the kitchen, he watched as Tess and Dawn started unpacking them and putting food into the cabinet.

"Jeremy, is everything OK?" Tess eventually asked, her brown eyes regarding him with concern, but a gentle look covered her face.

The man shook his head. "I don't know, there was something uncanny about this boy I ran into at the store. He looked to be not much older than eighteen, but at the same time, He had a wisdom about Him that went beyond His years."

"Was it Denise's friend?" Dawn eventually asked.

Jeremy looked at her, but instead of speaking, he offered a hesitant nod. "I wonder where the others are," he offered as he changed the subject and began to help his daughter and Tess with getting the food put away.

"Well, babies, it is from my experiences that if you meet someone who gives you something to think about, then maybe the Father has His hand in this situation. You can never tell, but chances are, you both met someone who gave you something to think about. What did He tell you?" Tess asked.

"Well, He told me that I should talk to Denise," Dawn said. "I guess we haven't really talked to each other in a long time, so I guess she could have told Him that we sort of drifted apart during the past few weeks. Tess, do you think that maybe this guy's an angel. What I mean is that someone who comes along for a moment, says something and then that thought is in your mind and you can't get it out."

"I know what you mean," he offered, "ever since we were at the grocery store, I have consistently been getting this same idea. The strangest part was when I told Him that I wanted Him to stay away from Denise and He looked me squarely in the eyes and mentioned Gottlieb. I thought I was going to faint right then and there. He didn't know about the conversation we had had at Christina's work, but after Gottlieb disappeared, all I wanted to do was apologize profusely for the mistake."

Dawn sighed as she turned away from them. Tess came over to her and rested her hand on the girl's shoulder. "What is it honey?" the angel asked gently.

"Nothing, I was just thinking is all, it's really no big deal," Dawn rubbed her face stubbornly, but Tess would not be put off.

"Let me take a wild guess, you feel badly that the Father came to see Denise, but didn't come to see you. Is that not so, baby?" The abrupt question emerged and Jeremy looked at Tess.

"I talked to God when we were in the hospital, I didn't know that the man I spoke to was God, but I did talk to Him. Christina has spoken to him, she said twice, once upstairs and then at her work. Denise has been hanging out with Him, so I can completely understand how Dawn is feeling. God has appeared to every one of us, but has not shown Himself to Dawn."

"He did, but that was when we were coming earlier to find out about Mom. I didn't really get to talk to Him. He said that my questions would be addressed later, but I guess later never comes."

"He will talk to you, baby, I happen to know that if He said that He would, then He will," Tess said softly.

Dawn shook her head. "I don't want to be rude, Tess, but I'm really not holding my breath." With that, she walked slowly out of the room, her head hanging and her eyes on the floor.

"I guess they are both going through something," Jeremy mused as he and Tess finished their task of putting the groceries away.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do, baby?" Tess asked gently, her voice filled with motherly gentility.

Jeremy smiled. "You know, I never really heard anyone call me 'baby' like you do, I feel almost as though I have an angelic mom. My parents weren't your run of the mill. My dad died when I was a young man, but my mom, I guess she couldn't take it, and left. She never really was close to us, she never looked out for us, and Paula, because she's a few years older than me. She sort of watched out for me, sometimes driving me completely mad trying to take Mom's place." He shook his head. "Maybe that's why I'm so protective of the girls, I sort of take over where my dad left off. Make sure everyone's OK, keep everything on the up and up. Yet, today, I don't know, Tess."

The angel motioned towards the kitchen table and they sat down. She looked at Jeremy, her eyes filled with love. "You know your babies are becoming women, they're going to want to fly, Jeremy, but they're going to need your support when they fall. You see, when you become a parent, it becomes God's work, and the Father takes a great deal of joy in watching over such families as yours."

"The same Father that I implied was a pervert. Oh Tess, how can I ever face Him again knowing that I implied that about Him?" Jeremy looked at her with agony in his unhappy eyes, his hand reaching for an envelope and he began to run the object between his fingers, his nervousness completely obvious.

"The Father knows that you were concerned, that under this particular circumstance, you were being a dad," Tess said softly. "You had seen your little girl get hurt some days ago, and in the wake of this, you were angry, maybe frightened, but also jealous. The Father had saved Denise's life, but you would have given anything to be the one that saved her. You weren't, and so you were angry, not at God, but at yourself."

Jeremy nodded, his eyes filled with sadness.

"You need to accept what happened, Denise doesn't blame you, but she does need you to listen to her, to give her the security that she needs. Right now, she is getting over the agony that comes when a human being loses someone very close to them. She has already lost her parents, and her brother, but now she's in the most dangerous of situations because she runs the risk of losing herself. Jeremy, you have the wonderful opportunity to embrace her with your loving assurances that she will not be alone after Jo goes Home. That even after Andrew, Adam, Monica and I leave, that there will still be someone here to help her pick up the pieces and move on with her life. The Father told her earlier today that she needs to find the courage to live, and you are in a very dynamic situation because you can give that to her, at least in part. In doing so, you will not only help Denise find the internal strength that she feels she lacks, but you will also help her find her healing. Through that, you will also help Dawn to find closure for her confusion about all of this." The angel paused for a few moments, but when he said nothing, she took a deep breath and continued. "You and Christina are in a very unique position here. You have a wonderful family, Jeremy, but even the most wonderful of families do get lost, and you can help them all find their way back."

Jeremy thought about her words and nodded. "Did I ever tell you that I love how you have the ability to put all of these kinds of things in perspective? You're just amazing."

Tess smiled and nodded as the door to the kitchen opened and Christina came into the room. "Hello Christina," the angel said gently as the woman joined them at the table.

"Hi," she smiled weakly.

"How's Denise doing?" Jeremy asked.

"I think she's doing OK, we talked, but something tells me that there are a few things that she needs to resolve with Andrew. So, I left them alone to resolve it."

Jeremy looked at Tess. "Andrew?"

"Well, you have to keep in mind what kind of angel Andrew is," Tess offered simply.

The man nodded. "Ah yes, well, since the beginning I sort of could tell that Denise had a very uneasy attitude towards him. Dawn always wanted to climb up on his lap and touch his face. I think when she was around fourteen, and we were going to Paris, she was sort of smitten by him. He's definitely attractive, I guess when she got older, she decided that he was just too old for her."

Christina smiled. "Do you remember Laura, now there was a girl who thought the sun rose and set on Andrew. I guess even I went through that phase, too."

Jeremy looked at her. "I won't go there, I won't go there…" As he spoke, his eyes twinkled merrily and Christina giggled.

"Don't worry, when I said I do, I meant it, now stop turning green and get me a cup of cocoa," she smiled as she said these words, but her face brightened considerably when Jeremy got up from the table and went to get her a cup. "Isn't he so nice, Tess? I think I married the nicest man on the planet."

The angel smiled. "Babies, I hate to do this, but I have to go, I've got to check in on my assignment."

Christina nodded but waited until the angel stood up. "No problem, Tess, will we see you again before you move on?"

The angel nodded and smiled. "I should be around, I have a few things to do and there is still a lot of things that have yet to be settled around here, so you'll probably see me around here."

Once Christina had embraced her, Tess disappeared and a few seconds later, Jeremy came back over to the table and placed a mug on it, his eyes shining brightly. "I guess I should be used to them not using the door."

She smiled, but wrapped her hand around the handle with the cocoa and took a sip.

"I'm going upstairs to see how Denise is doing, I think it's time for me and her to have our little talk," Jeremy said softly.

"That makes it sound like a scolding," Christina said. "I guess my dad used to say stuff like that to me when I was little, and I used to get so scared."

"Don't worry, I think I can handle this, but it is hard," Jeremy said softly.

"You'll handle it, I'm almost certain, you have a way with words, Jeremy, and no matter what anyone says, just know this, it wasn't your looks that attracted me to you, it was your style," she smiled as she sipped the cocoa and once she put the cup back on the table, she felt him wrapping her comfortingly in his arms.

"Do you know what I want to do after the girls graduate?" Jeremy asked.

"What?" She asked.

"I figure that we'll have to give them each something for graduation, and I know that Denise has always dreamt of going to music school. I thought maybe Lindsey could help with that if she decides to go to New York," Jeremy said.

"Yes, but Denise has something that she needs to finish here, she's trying to decide about continuing with the community awareness project," Christina offered. "But, I think that the Southside Music Academy has some good programs if she really wants to study music."

Jeremy nodded. "It will be her choice, I guess I have to accept the fact that she's not a little girl anymore. I miss not having a little girl sit on my lap, of being her daddy."

"You'll always be their daddy, Jeremy, but you will soon be a grandpa," Christina said smiling. "Laura called while you were out, she's pregnant."

"Laura and Sebastian are going to have a baby?" Jeremy asked.

"Well, it's the early stages, and they'll go see a doctor in three days, but she said that she did an early pregnancy test, and the result was positive, so they went ahead and scheduled an appointment for Friday."

Jeremy smiled brightly. "I'm going to be a grandpa."

"Now, we don't know that for certain, but based on what Laura told me, yes, it may very well happen," Christina said softly, her head down.

"Are you sad because you can't have a baby, Honey?" Jeremy asked softly.

"No, I'm thinking about other things," she said softly. "Don't worry about me."

"This is the one job that I am very good at, though," he said smiling wryly at her as he wrapped her in his arms. "If you take that away from me, I will just go back to work and draw stick figures on my desk."

Christina giggled. "You're so silly."

"Yes, well, it's one of the reasons you love me so much," he smiled, his eyes twinkling brightly.

She looked at him. "Jeremy, we've sort of decided what we want to do for Denise for graduation, but what about Dawn?"

"Dawn…" Jeremy mused.

"Well, yes, she's yet to tell us anything about what she wants to do in the future, but I am almost certain that she will, eventually," Christina said softly.

Jeremy looked at her. "The future…" he mused. "Whoever it was that said that life was filled with ups and downs wasn't kidding. Sometimes I think that the way life goes, that we're on this cosmic roller-coaster and we just keep going up and down."

Christina nodded. "Are you going to talk to Denise?"

"I want to, I just don't know what to say," Jeremy said softly.

"Just tell her the truth," Christina said softly. "That all you can really do, speak from the heart, and tell her what you feel."

"It wouldn't surprise me if she hated me. I haven't been Super-dad, I haven't even been mediocre-dad." He took a deep breath as he looked towards the door that led out into the living room.

"You've been consumed, this isn't your fault, Jeremy," Christina said softly. "You have had more than your share of trouble this time around."

"Maybe, but this is more than trouble, it's guilt," he said softly.

Christina took a deep breath as her husband left the room and headed towards the stairs. She could only pray that everything with him would work out, but at this time, she really had no idea. Once he was gone, she stared down at the cup of cocoa that was in front of her. If only she could tell her family what to do. Tess had said that this was something that they needed to tend to, but she had really no idea where to start.

*****

Jeremy tapped on Denise's closed bedroom door some five minutes later. After a couple of minutes, the door opened and he looked into the eyes of Andrew. The angel had been sitting with her since Christina had left the room, and now he looked somewhat relieved, his green eyes bright, but also filled with the angel's own brand of compassion and worry.

"Hey Andrew, is Denise OK?" Jeremy asked somewhat uncertainly.

"Yes, she and I have been talking," the angel answered awkwardly. "I think she's ready to listen to you, though."

Jeremy nodded. "Christina is downstairs, I made her some cocoa and maybe you'd better get going, she has some news that will knock your socks off."

Andrew smiled and walked past Jeremy and once the angel had reached the stairs, Jeremy walked into the room. Denise was lying on the bed, her face pressed against the pillow, her arms framing her head. Jeremy didn't have to see her face to know that she had been crying, but instead of speaking abruptly, he went over and sat down on the bed.

"Hey," he said softly after some minutes had passed.

Denise rolled over upon hearing his voice and she looked at him. "Hi."

"You've had quite an adventure today, haven't you?" He asked softly.

"I guess," she whispered, but instead of maintaining eye contact with him, she looked down at her lap. "I'm sorry about that."

"Denise, I didn't come up here to get on your case about something, I guess you know that that has happened quite a bit over the last few days," he said. "I've been playing this overprotective buffoon for just too long. The truth is, you've become a woman before my very eyes, and that's not easy for a guy like me who wants to save the world, or at least save this little corner of it."

She looked down at her lap, but then after a few minutes at him. "I wanted to run away."

"I don't blame you," he said softly. "Ever since you were attacked, I was trying to cope with the fact that I wasn't there to help you."

"God was," she whispered.

"Yes, He was, and I was too blinded by jealousy to realize that He was who He was," Jeremy said softly. "Can you imagine how foolish I feel, I actually accused the Father of us all of being a pervert. I actually told Him that people would get the wrong idea about Him. Do you know that I haven't been able to look in a mirror since we got back from Christina's workplace? I just sit around and ponder how foolish I was for telling Him such nonsense. He saved your life, I didn't…" Jeremy's voice trailed off and he looked at her. "Denise, will you forgive me?"

"What for? You were only trying to look out for me," she whispered.

"Maybe, but what I did was wrong, terribly wrong. Denise, you're old enough to decide who your friends are, and you did very well in recognizing the Father as your friend. Nine years ago, you were scared of God, and now you're friends with Him. You've spoken to Him, you've spent time with Him, and you've shared something with Him that the rest of us would give our right arm to experience. This afternoon when Andrew helped us to figure out who Mr. Gottlieb was, I realized that I really could have kicked myself for what I did, not just that I hurt and ignored you. My intentions were to protect you, but I did more harm than good in that, I tried to control you instead of trust you."

Denise, upon hearing his words could feel the tears streaming down over her face. "Mr. Gottlieb is gone."

"I know, I had that feeling when I spoke to your friend at the grocery store, your, prom date was there. He's a nice boy, and even though I had reservations about him, if you like Him, then I won't play the role of that overprotective buffoon again."

She nodded. "Thank you, Dad."

"You called me 'Dad'," he whispered. "Oh Denise, I never thought I would ever be this happy to hear you say that."

"I wanted to, but I was kind of scared, I figured that you would think I was trying to get all the attention, and I'm not really into that," she admitted. "I just want to be understood, the Father understood me, He talked to me and told me that I mattered. He held me and said things that were so beautiful that they reminded me of poetry."

"Tell me what happened," Jeremy asked. "How did you find out that your teacher was God?"

"Every time we would talk, the conversation would drift to something spiritual. He somehow managed to get me to talk about Pastor Stevens and all the things he said. It was weird, but before I knew that He was God, He would tell me things and the assurances that He was speaking the truth were so strong that I felt that even if He had just been a nice man who cared, that He could convince me that God was good and kind." She looked down at her lap. "I knew from talking to the angels that God loved me, but I didn't believe it, I thought with all the things that were happening, that it was my fault, or that I was being punished because I wasn't nice to Dawn, or I was withdrawn from you. I don't know why, though."

"You were afraid, and sometimes it's hard to believe what the angels have said. Not because they're angels, but because they're friends, and a friend would never say something you don't want to hear. A friend would say 'God loves you', a friend would say 'I forgive you', or 'I love you', but the angels after some time, could be interpreted as saying these things because they are our friends."

"But, they wouldn’t lie," she whispered.

"No, they absolutely wouldn't lie, but what you believe can be tainted by the idea of friendship. For example, Andrew or Monica could come along and say 'God loves you', and you would think that these angels are our friends, and they would say this only with the intention to make me feel better, and not necessarily because it's the rock solid truth. This is a very significant, so when Mr. Gottlieb came along and affirmed the same things, it became easier for you to accept His words. He initially may not have conveyed these same perceptions as Andrew or Tess might have. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Denise nodded. "I think so."

"Good, because I really do spend a lot of time confusing myself with this kind of stuff. Christina is a lot better with it than me, maybe that's why she recognized the Father much quicker than I did," he said softly. "I did realize one thing today, not just what is happening with you, but also this other stuff. I realized that when I talk to people, I have to start speaking with them as though I am talking to God again. That's the only way I can get over the guilt I now carry for my horrible behavior."

"It wasn't that bad," she whispered.

"It was bad, I won't sugar coat it," he said.

Denise shrugged her shoulders and looked at him. "At least I know you care, some people don't, you know."

Jeremy nodded. "Yes, there's something else that I really want to share with you. It's about my family, my sister and me. Paula, you don't know her all that well, but you know Robert and you knew Simon. Back when I was a kid, Paula was sort of the typical older sister, you know the type, she always has to take charge and run the show. I harbor nothing against her, she did a lot for me growing up. Anyway, after our mom took off, Paula tried, with the best of intentions to fill her shoes. I actually tried to talk to Tess about this earlier, and she seemed to understand, but there was a lot more to the story than what I confided in an angel, so I'm going to tell you about it, if that's OK?"

Denise smiled weakly and nodded.

"Paula and I were on our own for the most part, our dad worked to keep a roof over our heads, so we didn't see much of him, but there was always this understanding as to why. She and I were always trying to find the reason for whatever it is that happened, logic out everything. She and I spent a lot of time blaming ourselves for not doing enough, for not measuring up, and that had a very drastic impact on me later, simply because it would eventually affect how things went with you and Dawn, with Laura, Patrick and even Christina." He took a deep breath before he could continue speaking. "The angels have come into our lives for a very profound reason, for me, they are like the spirit of the most ideal parents. The two-parent family that I didn't have, the gentility and compassion I lacked when my dad wasn't able to always be there. My dad was a great guy, but my mom took off when I was little boy. Dad used to say that she ran off and joined the circus, maybe she did, but I haven't the foggiest idea where she is today."

Shrugging his shoulders he looked at her, she was listening attentively, but he could see a sense of sadness in her eyes. He reached over and touched her shoulder. "You thinking about your parents?"

Denise nodded. "I miss them," she whispered.

"I know, I miss my dad and on days like this, I could have really used some advice from him. I mean; he pretty much raised us, but then he got really sick and died when I was 21, didn't survive to see his daughter-in-law or meet his granddaughters and grandson."

"I was thinking about that when I thought about the prom, I mean; I wanted to go and get a dress, and I kept thinking about my mom, and how she would have loved to have been here to see this," Denise shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe she is, and you just can't see her," Jeremy said softly. "You know every so often, I stop what I'm doing and think about my dad, and wonder what's he's doing, if he's happy, and you know, after those times, Andrew shows up or someone close to me mentions him by name. It's something that happens just out of the blue, his name is mentioned or he comes back into our lives and we find that sense of peace we had thought was gone forever."

"He reminds you of your dad?" Denise asked softly.

"Kind of, his wisdom is very similar. He can say something that makes so much sense that I don't know. I think the other thing is that carries a watch like my dad had. My dad was into watches, he had this intense idea that a watch was what everyone needed. The world's problems would be solved in an instant if people all had watches. He carried a gold pocket watch, like Andrew has, and when he'd get nervous, he'd open and close it without looking down at the face of it. I'd think of him whenever I'd see Andrew fiddling with his watch."

"I never saw it," Denise whispered. "He never showed it to me."

"I'm sure he would if you asked him," Jeremy said softly.

Denise looked at him, her eyes filled with sadness, but for the first time since meeting Jeremy, she realized that this man understood her, they had shared a similar experience and somehow that made a difference to her. "Why didn't you ever tell us about him?"

"It was sometimes too hard to," Jeremy said as he shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes, I have held off saying anything about him because it's just hard. Most people imagine that their parents would die when they're my age now. Like Christina, she's case in point, Daniel and Donna are still alive and kicking and they probably will for years. The fact is, as much as Christina loves you and Dawn, she will not understand what it feels like to lose a parent at an early age. It's an experience that she cannot fathom, so when I think about you two girls, I realize that we have this in common with each other."

"It's hard," she whispered.

"I know, and I know that losing Jo, on top of everything else that you are dealing with, that you've really been through the mill. It's hard, but Denise, I'm here, and even though I wasn't completely father of the year, I do want to be there for you," he said softly.

She nodded and extended her hand to him. Once he had taken it, she felt herself being drawn into his embrace. As they sat holding each other, Jeremy kissed the top of her head, his lips meshed into the curly locks of reddish blonde hair. When she felt something hard and cold in his arms, she looked up at him as their embrace loosened and Jeremy dug in the shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of metal.

"How on earth, that's my dad's watch?" He mumbled.

"That's it, but how did it end up in your pocket?" Denise asked as she looked down at the golden watch that rested in Jeremy's open palm.

"I have no idea, but this sort of thing seems to happen quite a bit when there are angels running around here," he smiled weakly at her as he opened the cover and showed it to her. "This really does remind me of my eighteenth birthday. My dad gave me a watch and this really long drawn out speech that day. 'Now son', he said, his voice gruff, but also soft and raspy. 'You have no excuse to be late for anything anymore'. I opened the box and inside was this pocket watch, it was an old beat up used thing, but it worked. I would hold it up to my ear and listen to it ticking away and it funny because my dad was so proud of that thing. Paula told me later that he had saved his money for months with the hopes of getting me something really special for my birthday." Jeremy smiled weakly as he recalled this event. "The irony of it was that it was the most perfect gift because I was incessantly late for things. He told me later that the way I did things, I'd show up late for my own funeral."

Denise smiled as she stared down at the watch she now held. "What are you going to do with this?"

"Well, I don't know. I thought this watch was gone, that I'd never see it again."

"Nothing in My world is ever truly gone, Jeremy, sometimes it may disappear for a year or two, but it's never really gone, because I always know where it is," the Father's voice emerged and the two of them looked up and there, in the room, stood the man that Denise had come to know as her teacher, and Jeremy had spoken to in the hospital.

Jeremy looked at Him. "Father…"

"Denise, would you leave us for a moment?" The Father asked gently and the teenager nodded and crawled off the bed and walked towards the door. Before leaving, she embraced Him, and exited the room without a word.

Once the teenager was gone, Jeremy looked at the Father, his eyes filled with guilt, but instead of speaking, the Father came over and sat down on the bed, His arm wrapping around the man.

"Forgive me, please?" Jeremy whispered.

"No need," the Father spoke, His voice gentle. "You didn't know, Jeremy, and you were looking out for your daughter, in a way that your father was incapable of doing. You mustn't feel sad about this, I Am very proud of you for having the courage to talk to your daughter. Denise needed to hear your words, she needed to know how similar and connected the two of you are. It is a precious gift you gave, and I thought it only right for you to have that which meant the most to you as child, the watch of your father."

"Thank You," Jeremy could feel the tears streaming down over his cheeks. "But, I have nothing to give You."

"Oh, you have, you have given Me your love," the Father said softly. "You have embraced these two special girls, and you have given My little ones a home where they are safe and happy. You will be blessed with more, if you so choose to take more children into your home."

"More children?" Jeremy looked at Him.

"Yes, My son, more, many more," the Father looked at him earnestly. "Jeremy, do not be sad about what you have said or done, release the guilt, it is not necessary, it will only hinder you in accomplishing that which are you are destined to."

He nodded, and within seconds, the Father had disappeared and he was left seated alone on Denise's bed. "No, what about Dawn?" He asked the stillness, but when there came no response, he took a deep and staggering breath, got to his feet, and left the room.

*****

Three days later, Hope Christianson came into the school with her parents. The story about her family had been splashed across the newspaper and several local reporters were present as she walked without a word into the building. Once the glass doors were closed, she could see the eyes of the other students staring at her, and she suddenly felt awkward and out of place. She looked at her mother for some sort of help or support, but her mother looked just as nervous as she felt.

"Don't worry, honey," her mother, Anna was saying as they made their way towards the door leading to the guidance counselor. "Once the press lays off, you shouldn't have any trouble fitting in here."

Hope said nothing, she knew that her mother was trying hard to help her, but this did not change the fact that she felt increasingly out of place. She looked towards her father, Benjamin, and sighed deeply. He had not only lost his job because of the bad press, but the police were investigating him. He had not even told his wife and daughter, but he had gotten a summons from the county clerk's office and it said that if he didn't check himself into counseling that Hope would be removed from the home and placed in foster care. The entire situation filled him with the utmost anger, but at the same time, he felt a deeply rooted shame for what his mother and brother had done. Now, just because he was related to them, he now had to make a brave face and show the rest of the world that he was capable of being the best father he could, even with the stereotypes and the cruel words following him around.

After getting her schedule, her parents were told that she would be able to go home, and that someone would be there to show her around. Unwillingly, Hope said good-bye to her parents and allowed a very unenthusiastic student assistant help steer her around the halls of the high school.

Sadly, everywhere she went, she could literally feel the eyes of the other kids on her, and when she finally came into her History class, she saw a girl with red curly hair who she recognized. The girl was seated alone and Hope hesitantly went over to the empty desk next to her. She hesitantly tapped the girl on the shoulder. "I'm sorry to bother you I was just wondering if this seat was taken?" She asked, her voice barely above a nervous whisper.

The girl at the desk looked up and shook her head. "No, go ahead and sit down," she offered, but when she recognized Hope, she smiled weakly. "You doing any better?" She asked. "You looked a little bit upset the other day, but by the time I came back to the parking lot, you were gone."

"I had to go to the police and file this report," Hope said softly. "They were asking me all these questions, it was very strange."

"I can understand how hard that must have been, my name's Denise, by the way," she offered. "My adopted mother is Christina Lowery."

"Maybe I should be sitting somewhere else then," she whispered as she started to get up with the intention of walking away.

"No, look, that's not why I said that. Please stay. You and I have something in common it seems, neither of us seem to have very many friends in this place and sometimes it can be really lonely."

Hearing the truth emerge from the other girl, Hope nodded sadly. "I guess you're right, I just didn't know that you would actually want to talk to me. My name is Hope," she offered meekly. "I guess I remembered seeing you at the building when all that stuff happened, you were there with that nice man. I can't seem to forget Him, he was very kind, and He sat down next to me when I was sitting there on the ground and feeling as though I was losing my mind."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, but sadly, I haven't seen Him since then," Denise said. "He was the choir director's stand-in when Mr. Travers had tonsillitis, but now he came back and Mr. Gottlieb is gone."

At that moment, the bell rang, and Denise looked at the girl. "Don't worry about this class too much, the teacher's pretty cool, and she sometimes lets us have study hall, especially right about now when everything is so chaotic with final exam preparation."

Hope nodded. "Thanks, Denise," she whispered.

"No big deal. You look as though you could use a friend or two. Would you like to have lunch with us, my friend, Al, and I always eat together, but I'm sure He won't mind you joining us?" Denise offered somehow feeling a strange sense of empathy for the girl.

"OK," Hope said softly and Denise smiled as the teacher came into the classroom and closed the door behind her.

As Denise had predicted, the teacher gave them a study hall, and Denise offered Hope the chance to look at some of her notes from the lectures. Hope proved to be very smart, and Denise discovered that over the course of the class, she and Hope had started to become friends.

As the bell rang dismissing them for lunch, Hope looked up to see that the student aid was back to take Hope to the cafeteria for lunch. Denise immediately noticed that the boy carried a scowl on his face and it was obvious that he was not please with being there, and she guessed that he seemed not to like having to do this particular job. "Come on new kid, I ain't got all day," he grumbled.

Denise looked at him and then at Hope. "Is this joker your escort?"

Hope nodded as she glanced towards the boy, but started to walk towards him.

"Well, not anymore," she looked at the boy. "You don't know how to win friends and influence people do you?" She shook her head. "Sadly I don't have the time to teach you, so why don't you go back to the counselor's office and do something useful like sort progress reports or something? I'll take this one myself. I know this school like the back of my hand, and between Al and me, we can show her around without having to cramp your intolerant style."

The boy left without a word and Hope looked at her. "Why did you do that?"

"Let me tell you about macho Ricky Dennis; although he's physically cute on the outside, he's got a brain the size of a bean and an attitude that would make you want to go straight to the girls' toilet and well…I won't say specifically what I am thinking because it's too close to lunch time. Anyway, he is the poster child for 'all brawn, no brains' campaign. Come on, let's get going, the cafeteria is probably full up now and Al usually saves me a place to sit because His last class is only two doors down from the commons."

Hope nodded and they left the room together.

As they made their way down the hall, Ricky as well as some of the boys saw them and they, instead of continuing their conversations, started speaking loudly, their voices filled with cruel intent and their eyes leering at Hope. "Hey guys, stay away from that one, she's used goods," one of the boys chortled and the girl's face lost all it's color.

She started to back away from the boys, but two of them had conveniently moved so that she would be trapped. As they came closer to her, they were laughing and Denise immediately was reminded of what had happened to her in the fairgrounds, her eyes now scanning the hallway looking for Al. As one of the boys grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Hope, she could see the utter terror that crossed the younger girl's face when one of the boys grabbed her and two others started to touch her.

"Let me go," she screamed as the terror enveloped her, and the other students in the hall turned around and stared, their judgmental eyes on the frightened girl and Denise tried to break free from the boy holding her.

When at last Denise had managed to get away, she looked at the boys, her eyes shooting fire. "Let her go and I mean it," she seethed, her eyes never faltering and this, if anything, took the boys by surprise simply because they had never seen the shy twin actually standing up to anything.

"Hey Denise," one of the boys called out, his voice loud enough for the others to hear. "It's really no wonder you haven't gotten a date for the prom, one of them shouted, "what with the company you keep, like with that little tramp."

Denise's face flushed angrily and she shook her head. "If you bozos are the only option to prom dates that exist, then I would rather go alone."

"Yeah, yeah, guys, that means she's got no date," one of the boys said.

"That's not true, she does have a date, Me," Al's voice emerged and He came through the group of boys and reached the two girls. When the boy still gripped Hope's shoulder, He looked at them, His blue eyes never faltering. "Let her go, and I mean right now."

The boy shrugged his shoulders and lowered his hand. "Come on, guys, let's get out of here. You'll both get what you have coming," he sneered.

Al looked at him all the while shaking His head. "Don't bet on it," He said simply as the boys dispersed and He looked at Denise and then at Hope.

Before He could even speak, Hope fled, leaving Him and Denise alone. When she started to follow Hope down the corridor, He reached out and touched her shoulder. "No, let Me. Denise, you're safe now, just go to our usual table and save a couple of seats, I'll bring her back with Me."

The teenager nodded and watched as Al rushed down the hall in the direction Hope had taken off in. As He rounded a corner, He could see her sitting on the ground next to a group of lockers, her body hunched over, her face in her hands, her body trembling, and she was weeping bitterly.

He came closer and sat down on the ground next to her, His hand automatically coming to rest on her shoulder.

Upon feeling His touch, she jerked away.

"Don't be afraid, Hope, My name is Al, I'm Denise's friend and I promise, I won't hurt you," He said gently as He sat down on the floor next to her and pulled a tissue from His pocket and handed it to her. "Here, take this and dry your tears."

The teenager shook her head, her gaze constantly on her lap, the tears still falling from beneath her frightened brown eyes. "Everyone hates me," she wept softly as He reached over and began to wipe the moisture from her face. "I hate my life. I wish I was dead."

"No, you don't, you just hate trying to find a place where you fit in, where you're accepted, but you do fit in and you are accepted, Hope. Denise and I care about you and we want to be your friends, that is if you'll let us," He said gently, His voice filled with gentility, something she was not used to hearing from a boy.

She looked up slowly, her eyes still filled with pain and she wrapped her arms around herself. "But, You don't even know me, You don't know what happened to me."

"I do know, but Hope, you know now that not everyone you meet is going to judge you or try to hurt you," He reached over and touched the side of her face. "Do you believe that you are loved?"

She shook her head. "No," she whispered.

He smiled gently. "You are, and I know that you have had to deal with a lot of things when you chose to come to school here, probably much more than most kids simply because you have a media circus following you around." She nodded numbly as He continued to speak, His voice filled with His loving assurances. "Hope, look at Me," He said softly and when she raised her head, He could see the overwhelming misery that seemed to encase her. Once she had made eye contact with Him, He began to speak once again. "A true friend will not listen to that nonsense, a true friend is someone who will accept and help you find your place in this world. Sometimes, your greatest thinkers and most enlightened individuals were outcasts as kids, they were pushed and shoved around, they were treated badly, but they came out on top, and so will you. Just remember, the truth will eventually come out and it will put an end to the grief that you are feeling as well as that which your parents are obviously enduring."

"H-how do You know?" She asked softly.

"Well, let's just say that I've got a very good idea about what the truth looks like, and what the media is doing to you and your family holds not even a semblance of legitimacy," He said.

"But, that's the trouble, Al, I don't even know what's worse anymore. I am so ashamed that when truth comes out, that everyone will see me as damaged goods or as God's only mistake," she whispered.

"God doesn't make mistakes, Hope, He is perfect, and in His eyes, you are as well. You see, you are a creation of God, and that is, in and of itself, an empowering sense of perfection," He smiled gently at her as He reached over and brushed a lock of her hair out from in front of her eyes. "You have only been told that you are less than beautiful by those around you, they have invalidated your worth, and they have robbed a part of your spirit. Yet, even your name, Hope, comes from the heart; it is the belief that life will always continue to get better, that you will live in state of mind where you are constantly feeling better and empowered by the vision of who you are. That is worthy, that is beauty, but it is not a mistake. God's love is not ever going to be a mistake, not when you carry so much hope in your heart."

The girl shook her head. "I just want to go home, Al, I want to hide away from this place, away from everyone, I want to escape from the leering glances, and the snide remarks. I just can't take it living here anymore, I'm absolutely terrified."

"I can tell," He said softly, but He wrapped her in His arms and pulled her into His embrace. "You're not alone, Hope, you never were, you just thought you were because you could not imagine someone looking at you and not wishing to hurt you."

Hope continued to shake her head, her eyes still filled with dejection. "Al, I…" she whispered.

"Shhh," He whispered as her head rested against His shoulder and He brushed her hair away from her eyes. "Everything is going to be OK, and it's like I just said, as much as you may think you're alone, Hope, you're not, not by any stretch of the imagination."

She nodded. "You're very thoughtful," she whispered. "I can understand why Denise likes You so much."

He smiled and nodded. "She's a good friend, and she does accept you as you are. She knows how hard it is to face things like abuse, but now she is going to need all the friends that she has, and you are now one of them. Come on let's go meet her and have lunch. Just don't worry, as long as you're with Me, Hope, nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let those guys do anything else to hurt you. That much I can promise you."

Hope nodded as she allowed Him to help her get to her feet and they went back down the hall towards the cafeteria.

Once they had come out into the large room, Al led Hope over to a table where Denise sat. She smiled when she saw them, but she could tell that Hope had been crying, her eyes were swollen and puffy, and Denise's heart went out to the girl.

"You OK?" She asked as Hope sat down.

The other girl nodded, her eyes filled with sadness. "I'm sorry Denise," she whispered.

"What for? Those guys are idiots," Denise said. "Remember what I said about 'all brawn, no brains', well those guys are case in point. I'd be willing to bet that they have no idea about what you've been through, and they would crumble if their lots in life were like yours. I mean; you're a lot stronger than they are because at least you have the strength to face things."

"What do you mean? I'm not strong," Hope objected.

"Yes you are," Denise said weakly. "If I even had a tenth of the strength you had, I would be able to face things better than I have done…and I wouldn't need the angels…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked at Al apologetically. When she saw understanding in His eyes, she shrugged her shoulders. "I-I mean…" Her voice trailed off.

"You know about the angels?" Hope asked meekly as she looked at Denise with unhidden surprise.

"Yeah, I don't usually talk about them, but there's one staying at my house right now, he's my friend," Denise said softly, a small smile playing at her lips when she thought about Andrew and how much had been reconciled between her and him, and only over the course of the past few days.

Al smiled at the two girls. "Sometimes you might pass an angel on the street and not even know it."

Hope nodded, "I've wondered about that. Ever since my grandmother was arrested, I've been thinking about no one but Adam. He was gone after the whole thing happened a few days ago, but then there was this man, He was with you, Denise, it was when I came out of the building. I don't remember much about Him, but He was so kind, and then after I had talked to the cops, I came back to where He had been standing, and I realized that He too had disappeared." She looked at the two of them. "Why would God take every kind person away and leave me alone to face people like those boys?"

Denise looked at Al, but as He shook His head, she looked at Hope. "You know, I thought the same thing for a long time. One of my friends and I used to work together on the child abuse prevention network and I always think about how she had all these ideas and stuff, and wanted to make things great for everyone. She wanted to do this so she could help kids like you and me."

"You're nothing like me, Denise," Hope whispered.

"I'm more like you then you think, I was abused too, it was after my father died and my mother was laid up in the hospital dying. She had gotten a blood transfusion and contracted Aids. It was before they started all these tests on the donated blood and none of us really knew what all that meant, I was only nine. I remember being taken to a foster home, and my foster parents didn't sexually abuse us, but they physically and emotionally did. Whenever we misbehaved, which was by their definition practically daily, they would lock us in the basement without food or anything to drink." As she spoke, the tears streamed down her cheeks and she looked at Al, who nodded encouragingly. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked at the girl before she could continue. "My foster father was the minister of our local church, maybe you heard of him, Pastor Stevens?"

Hope shook her head. "No, I never was in church growing up, I mean, my parents and me, we believe in God and all, but we didn't go to church. I guess, I couldn't take the guilt that they told people. I had already so much of that inside of me, that all I knew was that I carried this longing that God would actually like me," she whispered, the tears brimming beneath her eyes. "I can't believe that He would, in fact, it just seems too impossible."

"I think that He does," Denise said softly.

"I'm sure He does," Al said as He reached over and touched her shoulder.

Hope shook her head. "No, it can't be true, I mean; if He was there, if He cared, He would have helped me when…" She shook her head as the words trailed off.

"You mentioned Adam, but don't you think that God would have cared if He sent an angel to be with you?" Denise asked.

"Why don't you continue telling her what you had started to, Denise?" Al said softly.

Denise looked at Hope, shrugged her shoulders and continued to speak, her voice filled with sadness. "Pastor Stevens had really strange ideas about God. I mean; he would say stuff about sin and redemption, but the worst thing he said was that God was punishing us by taking my father away and by giving my mother and brother Aids." She looked down at the table and shook her head. "I know today that that wasn't the truth, but I didn't know this until just recently, and that was because I had started asking myself if Pastor Stevens had been right all along."

Hope shook her head. "I don't know, I still think that I'm a horrible person for letting my uncle and aunt abuse me and if that's true, oh God forgive me, please…" She clamped her eyes shut as the tears began to wash down over her face and she began to weep softly, her face pressed in both of her hands, the guilt, loneliness, and misery emerging in her tears.

Denise looked at Al. "Did I say something wrong?"

Al shook His head. "No, but she needs to know the truth now, will you come with us?"

"Sure, if You think I can help somehow," Denise said softly as she looked at Him.

"I think you can, you already have," He said gently.

"Are you sure that this has to happen right now? Here in front of all these people? I mean; they're staring at us, and Hope is just so lost."

"Yes, she is," Al said softly, but within seconds, they were no longer in the cafeteria, instead they were in a valley filled with wildflowers and Denise had to blink a few times when she felt the sunlight on her face and the warm wind blowing through her hair.

As Denise took in this place with complete shock, she seemed not to notice that Hope was still crying, her face hidden in her hands and seemed oblivious to all the things that were happening around them.

Seconds later she looked at the Father. He was now standing next to Hope, His face the epitome of love and He was no longer dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, instead, He was dressed in a flowing beige colored robe, His shoulder-length hair now loose and blowing freely in the breeze. Denise inhaled quickly when she saw Him and her initial thought was that He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life.

"W-where are we?" She eventually whispered.

"In My country, Denise," He said as He looked down at Hope. She was still crying and He crouched down beside her, His hand coming to rest on her still trembling shoulders. "Hope, look up sweetheart and don't be afraid."

The teenager raised her head and looked into the eyes of the Father. "A-Al?" She stammered, her voice emerging as a squeak, but she backed away hoping all the while to get away from them. The sheer terror that encased her just about broke Denise's heart, but as Hope tried to back away from them, the girl was shaking her head as though in denial about what was happening.

Eventually the Father spoke, His voice gentle, but He could see that she was still backing away from Him. "No, Hope, don't be afraid, you're in no danger here," He said softly He sat down next to her, His arm wrapping around her shoulder and holding her trembling body still.

"A-are You an angel?" She whimpered as she clamped her eyes shut.

"No, not an angel," He said and within seconds, the physical embodiment of Al had disappeared and the teacher Denise had known as Mr. Gottlieb reappeared in His place. "Look at Me, Hope."

The girl raised her head slowly, her eyes widening when she recognized who it was seated next to her. The Teacher had His arms still around her, He was still dressed in beige, but looked to be much older, and now His hand was brushing along Hope's pale cheek.

"I-it's You, f-from the building," the teenager stammered, all the while shaking her head. "B-but how? W-who are Y-You?"

Denise sat down next to the girl, her eyes filling with tears as she regarded the younger girl, "He's our Father, Hope. He's God and He's who connects us to each other."

"N-no, it can't be, no…" she tried without success to back away, but eventually, she realized that she couldn't, the Father was still holding her firmly, but gently, in His arms. "Please…please don't hurt me."

As she watched the girl's response, she remembered her own when the Father had revealed Himself to her, and how she had said the exact same thing. She looked at Him, and then spoke, her voice soft, but barely audible over Hope's terrified cries. "He came here to help us, Hope, because He loves us so much."

"God?" Hope whispered softly, but from the sanctuary of His embrace, she reached a trembling hand towards Him and when she felt His face from beneath her timid touch, she managed to raise her head somewhat and look into the warm eyes of her Creator. "Y-You're God?"

"Yes, Denise has told you the truth, little one," the Father answered gently. "I know that you're afraid of Me, but that's why Adam had been sent to be with you so many times before, and it is why I Am here with you now."

The young girl stared down at her lap. "I'm so disgusting and…I don't deserve this…not at all…I'm such a terrible person…" Her words trailed off and the Father reached over and pressed His finger against her lips, thus stopping the flow of words.

"Shhh," He whispered gently, but when she felt Him moving His finger away, she could hear Him as He began to speak, all the while shaking His head. "You're not any of those terrible things you perceive, little one, you are My precious and beautiful child, and you are all the good and all the radiance that I could put into one creation." He brushed a gentle hand through her hair. "The pain you carry is real, Hope, but it is also damaging to your spirit. I came here not only to be with Denise through this difficult time in her life, but also to be with you during this difficult time in your own. I love you, Hope Christianson, and nothing, not the words of a bunch of school bullies, or the media of a small town, is going to change that. You are so precious to Me, Hope."

She looked at Him. "F-Father…" she whispered.

"I'm here, Hope, you're not alone, My child," He said softly.

"I'm so scared, I've never been so scared before," she whimpered, her head now resting against His chest, the tears dampening the front of His tunic.

"I know, little one," He said gently and looked at Denise who was sitting some distance away, but He extended His hand to her. She accepted it without hesitation and came over and sat down with them.

"I know that speaking out about abuse is never easy," Denise whispered. "It wasn't for me either and through this, I realized that…that God is my best friend." The Father rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, His eyes filled with love. "His love and compassion was something I never imagined in my life, and it became something so real for me. One of my other friends is dying, Hope, and she's such a special person to me. She is kind and loving, but she's very sick, and she's been sick for years, but she's cared so much for other people that she put them first ahead of herself. Jo always put me first, but it was so that she could have her peace, so that she could die without worrying about me, or wondering constantly if I'm going to be OK."

"Jo? You mean, Jo Peterson?" Hope looked at Denise.

"Yes," Denise whispered. "Jo is dying and she and I worked on the community awareness project together. I started working there not because I cared like she did, but simply because I knew that Jo was so involved in it that this was the only way that she and I could spend time with each other. As time went by, I started to feel connected to the project and I wondered when I found out she was quitting if it could even continue without her, if I would have the ability she did to keep it going."

"It can," Hope said softly. "It has to."

"Go ahead, Hope; just tell her why. It's alright, it is something she needs to know," the Father cajoled gently.

"The awareness group gave my cousin Melanie the courage to write that letter to me, it was the same letter that Mrs. Lowery gave to the police when I had gone to talk to her, this letter gave my parents all the proof they needed to understand what had been happening, and that this kind of thing had happened to me, too," Hope said softly, the tears streaming down her cheeks and the Father began to wipe the girl's cheeks with a soft handkerchief.

"A letter?" Denise looked at the Father. "I-I still don't understand."

"There was an interview with you and Jo on your local television station about three months ago," the Father said softly. "Hope and Melanie saw that interview, but neither of them were together when it came on. It was the first time Hope had managed to put two and two together not only about what Melanie had been living with, but also about the tragic fact that she, herself had been sexually abused."

Hope nodded shamefaced. "That was where I had seen you before, you were standing next to Jo, and you were talking about the statistics regarding child abuse, and some of the signs to look for in abuse victims as well as how to prevent it. After seeing this interview, Melanie sat down and wrote this letter to me. It was the letter that came just before her parents had been arrested, and right after that happened, she wrote a second letter, that one is the one that the police have and the reason everything happened a few days ago was because my grandmother had somehow found out about the letter and tried to get her hands on it."

She took a deep breath, her tears still streaming from beneath her eyes. "Anyway, I received the letter two days before Melanie died, and then that phone call from Tess and before I knew it, I was in Christina Lowery's office, and..."

"That was when your grandmother tried to hurt my mom?" Denise asked.

"Yeah, and if it weren't for you guys, then she would have," Hope whispered but extended the letter to Denise.

Denise accepted the offered letter and looked at Hope before staring down at the piece of paper. "You want me to read this?"

"Yes," Hope whispered, her face filled with sadness and she tried without success at wiping the tears from beneath her eyes.

Denise unfolded the piece of paper and looked down at the writing on the page, her eyes widening in profound disbelief when she read what Hope's cousin had written. She sighed as she looked at the Father, but then her gaze came to rest on the piece of paper and she took in the words written there.

Dear Hope,

Last night I saw something that made me realize how terrible my life really is. My parents had left for the evening and I sat at home with the television as my only source of comfort, all the while trying to block out the nightmare that my life is. As I sat on the sofa staring at the screen, I saw an interview about two local girls and what they were doing.

One was in a wheelchair, and she looked tired, but she also looked as though she was happy with her life, and had it all. The other girl looked unhappy, but she carried herself in a way that showed that she had a mission in life to fulfill, and that was probably still unknown by her. You always told me that something weird was happening in our family, but it wasn't until last night when I saw those two girls on TV that I realized how right you were.

It pains me to think that I am a victim of abuse, not just by my parents, but also by our grandmother. I feel dead inside, as though all that remains of me is the uneven scrawl of my own handwriting. The world is not a caring and loving place, and people are not generally good and kind, they are cruel and filled with hate. If they weren't then why would parents harm their children, and why would two strangers reach out from beyond nothingness and tell us what we both knew deep in our hearts to exist and be true? Why?

I am hoping that no matter what happens to me, that you will find the courage to share both of our stories with others, the same story that we chose to entrust and confide in each other. Please, seek out help. If two people we don't even know can show an ounce of caring, then imagine to what extent your parents would care if they knew the truth.

Love,

Melanie

Denise had tears streaming down her cheeks as she finished reading the letter. "I had forgotten about that interview, about what we had done with it. All I remembered was that after everything happened; Jo was interviewed by the local paper and was revered by the media as something special because of her handicap. She would come to me and she would complain that people were making a big deal about her because she was in a wheelchair, but she always knew that I felt ignored, as though I was there only as the person to push her wheelchair. But, she knew, didn't she?" Denise whispered.

"Yes, she always has known, Denise," the Father said gently. "That's why it has been so important for her to know that you were going to be OK after she comes Home."

Denise looked at the Father. "What should we do?"

"You have a choice, Denise, you both do," the Father said gently.

"W-what do You mean?" Hope asked softly as Denise returned the letter to her and she folded it and returned it to her pocket.

"I think I know," Denise said softly. "I think He means that you are going to be helping me keep this program going. We're connected Hope, we both have lost or are losing someone who we love and care for. Both people have been affected by this program, by the efforts to keep it going. Now I understand, this program has to go on, I can't stop what Jo and I started." She looked at the Father. "Isn't that right? Isn't that what You've been trying to tell me and I didn't want to listen?"

"Yes, that's absolutely right, Denise, that is your mission, that is My hope for you, but more than that, it is what will help you both find healing," He said gently as He reached over and touched Hope's face. "I know this is hard for you, Hope, but I also know how much strength and courage you have in your heart."

Hope looked at Him, "Are You going to leave me now?" She whispered.

"No, there is still much to be done here, but when the time does come for Me to go, you'll be ready for it, and you must never forget, I may only leave you physically, but in the deepest recesses of your heart, I will remain forever," He said gently.

The two teenagers nodded and within seconds, they were back in the cafeteria and the Father was once again in the guise of the teenage boy who called Himself Al.

*****

That same afternoon Denise and Hope left the school together, the two girls made the decision to go back to the community center and work on the project that same afternoon. Although people were still staring at her, Hope carried a small smile on her face as they came outside. "I have to tell my parents that I don't need a ride home," she was telling Denise, "I don't think they'll mind too much, but they probably will want to know that I'm going with you and Al to the community center."

Denise smiled as Al ambled over to them and she smiled at Him. "You're late," she said coyly as Hope walked slowly towards the loading and unloading zone in order to tell her parents her news. After a few moments, Denise looked at Hope and then back at Him. "She's going to be OK, isn't she?"

"I don't think she's going to have too many problems now, but she will still have some things that she's going to need to tend to," He said smiling. "You really helped her today."

"That's not true, I mean; You're…well, You're You, and I can't compete with that," she whispered. "But, still, it's nice of You to say so. It's funny, but when I look at You now, I realize what a special friend You are to me."

He smiled. "You are too. Do you believe Me now when I tell you that you have a great deal of potential, Denise Wallace?"

"I'm starting to believe it now," she said as Hope came back over to them. The girl carried a weak smile on her face, but her eyes were shining brightly.

"My parents want to meet you before I go anywhere with you," Hope offered apologetically. "I guess they are worried that I might be getting in with the wrong crowd or something."

Denise began to giggle but she nodded as the three of them walked over to the car that was parked along the curb adjacent to the school's courtyard.

"Mom, Dad, this is Denise Wallace and Al…" Hope's voice trailed and she swallowed as she quickly recovered. "Omega."

Denise almost lost it and started to laugh out loud, but Al nudged her with His elbow and she recovered quickly and looked into the eyes of Hope's parents. "Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Christianson."

"Likewise, Denise," Anna said smiling at her and Benjamin nodded.

"We're going over to the community center to work this afternoon if that's OK," Hope began. "Denise's sister, Laura works there and we wanted to work on the awareness group project. You know the one I told you about, it's the group that helped Melanie…"

Benjamin looked at Denise as understanding dawned on the middle-aged man. "That's where I had seen you before, you were on TV with another girl."

"Yes I was," Denise offered shyly. "I was there with my friend, Jo. She and I had been working on this project for a long time and getting an interview on TV was a really great opportunity for the program," Denise said softly. "Hope told me that she wanted to help me with it because Jo's sick and she won't be able to anymore."

"I see," Anna said. "Well, girls, we won't stand in your way."

"Thank you," Denise said as Benjamin started the car. "We'll drive Hope home after we get everything done. I thought it might be a good idea for her to meet Jo, so if it's not any problem I would like to introduce them."

Hope's parents nodded as Anna smiled. "I guess you were afraid for nothing about coming to school here, there are some very nice young people here."

Hope nodded slowly and watched as her parents drove away. "I think they're relieved," she offered softly. "I suppose they were afraid of what might have happened. My dad got fired after the story about my family broke, and my parents were afraid that we would have to leave town because of all the bad publicity."

"I guess things have their way of working out," Denise said softly and looked at Al who was offering both girls a lopsided grin. "Yeah, yeah," she said as she stuck her tongue out at Him, but also returning the smile. "Let's get to the community center before this know-it-all here starts in with His philosophy lesson." She looked Him squarely in the eyes and smiled impishly.

He smiled but said nothing, He could tell that Denise, in all these events that were happening to Hope, that she was not only helping the other girl to lose her fear of Him, but that she was losing her own fear of Him as well.

They walked arm in arm out to the parking lot and got into Al's car. Before starting the motor, He pulled his hair out of His face and tied it back with the band Denise had given Him.

Once they had driven to the community center, Al parked the car and the three of them got out and started to walk towards the door leading inside. Denise smiled weakly as they came inside the familiar building and she calmly looked around. When she saw an older woman standing in the foyer, she smiled weakly. "That's Laura, she's my older sister, and that's Sebastian, her husband. Come on, I'll introduce you."

Al reached over and touched Denise's shoulder. "Wait, before we go over there and talk to them, I need to tell you both something. Laura knows Me, she met Me when she was twelve, so if something transpires here that you may not fully understand, then that's the reason."

Denise nodded. "Yeah, that's right, I remember some time after meeting her for the first time, she said she had had a near death experience."

"Yes, she did, she came Home, but only for a time. Hope, Laura knows Adam, so I think you two may have a few things to talk about once the two of you get to know each other," He said gently.

"I guess so," Hope whispered shyly, and He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You have nothing to be afraid of, I think you know that," He said gently. "You just have to understand that I Am not one to fear."

The teenager nodded meekly as they walked over to Laura. When they got closer to her, Denise said her name and Laura turned around to see that her sister was approaching with two people she had never seen before.

Upon seeing Denise standing in the middle of the foyer, Laura's earnest expression changed and she looked at her with a mix of surprise and happiness on her face. "Denise, what are you doing here? I thought that after Jo quit that I wouldn't see you around here again."

"I know, but something happened and I realized that it was important for me to come back here," Denise said as Laura nodded and looked at the boy and then the shy looking girl who was next to her. "This is Hope and Al, Hope's going to help me get the project started again and Al..."

"…I'm the guy with the wheels," Al said as He held up a gold and silver key chain.

Laura smiled. "It's nice to meet you both, I'm Laura Jensen; I'm the activities coordinator here at the center."

As Al extended His hand to her, He smiled winningly. "Hello, Laura."

Once the introductions had been made, Hope and Denise excused themselves and went into an office to begin planning, Al remained standing only a few feet from Laura, but His eyes were scanning the large open room.

"I know You're the guy with the wheels, but I guess I thought You were going to help the girls with the preparations of their project," Laura said smiling weakly all the while unable to stop herself from pondering how familiar this boy seemed to her. It was as though she had met Him before, but where specifically remained a mystery. Instead of speaking, she shrugged her shoulders, but when He responded to her, she relaxed somewhat.

"I was going to, but I thought instead, I'd ask you a little bit about the center," He offered. "That is if you don't mind my asking."

"Well no, I'm pretty much used to these kinds of questions and chances are, since I have no appointments this afternoon, I can show You around, that's part of my job here anyway," she said smiling warmly. "Is there anything specific You would be interested in seeing here? We have classes in dancing, various sport forms, hobbies, foreign languages, as well as volunteerism and community awareness. My aunt teaches sign language, my husband teaches art and German, and we have over thirty volunteers along with full-time staff who are here who offer their time and talents to the enhancement of this center, so over the past ten or so years, it's literally grown by leaps and bounds."

"So Denise and Hope's project isn't the only one that centers on community awareness?" He asked.

Laura shook her head. "No, we have a number of areas and groups here. We provide meeting rooms not only for spiritual groups, alcohol awareness, drug abuse prevention, but other networks, but we also have groups that help people who are wanting to give up drugs, alcohol, lose weight, or stop smoking. We work with the local hospital and clinics and they send help staff over for blood drives, as well as health issues. One of our volunteers recently started an information exchange on literacy campaigns as well as self esteem workshops."

"You must be very proud of the impact that this center is leaving on so many people," He said.

"Yes, I'm really happy about this, and since Jo quit, I was really blown away to see You coming in here with Hope and Denise." She took a deep breath as she continued to speak. "You probably can't even begin to imagine what a wonderful surprise it was to see Denise coming back to this project, especially since her friend Jo had to quit," As Laura spoke, she glanced in the direction of where the two girls had gone.

"Something tells Me that you don't believe that she would have come back here," He said softly.

"No, I honestly didn't, I suppose I sometimes think there are no such things as miracles; I guess when I grew up, I gave up the hope of experiencing one, yet seeing my sister today was something so wonderful that something tells me that there's a force that is much more powerful than may exist here, at work in all our lives. I had thought about giving up, but then I realize maybe I should be rethinking this initial stance, especially when I think about the good that this place has done."

He smiled as He looked around the room. "A place like this is worth the reevaluation that you are doing, isn't it?"

"Yes, and the more I look around here, the more I realize what a benefit this place really is for our community," she smiled weakly as she shrugged her shoulders. "You know, this probably sounds really strange, maybe even warped to You, but for a community to have a home base, is really important. It signifies unity among people, it helps them find their connection to each other, and that goes beyond just seeing someone once a week in a church or something. This center does a lot of work in the daily lives of the people here, thus it has become a home for many."

"This is a very nice place for your community, Laura," He said smiling at her.

As she looked at Him, she realized that when He would look at her, that an involuntary shiver cursed through her and she realized that she really did know him, but trying to pinpoint where, was not proving to be easy. Eventually she spoke. "Al, I can't get over the idea that I know you from somewhere. Were you here in this center before? I have this feeling we know each other."

"No, actually, I haven't been here to the center before, but I did hear about it, and I know how much hard work and dedication you, among others, have put into it. Where I come from, this kind of news travels fast," He said honestly. "Why did you decide to stay here and work on this particular project? I mean; with your obvious talents, it seems to Me that you could have done monumentally more in a large city."

"Perhaps this is true, but I like it here, my family is here, and I can't imagine leaving this town," she said smiling. "It's home for me."

"Home is a nice place to be, isn't it?" He asked.

"Oh yes, but getting to see the world is also not so bad," she smiled as her husband came over to where they were standing. "This is Sebastian, my husband, Sebastian, this is Al; He's a friend of Denise. I've been showing Him around while Denise and Hope are in the conference room working on their child abuse prevention program."

"Denise is here?" Sebastian looked confused. "I thought she quit."

"She initially did, but now she has changed her mind and decided to stay and keep the project going," Al said freely. "That's why we're here, actually. I drove them over and afterwards I'll be taking them home."

Sebastian smiled. "That's the best news I've heard all day, but I can't help but wonder what it was specifically that made her change her mind about it. Do either of you have any ideas? I mean; based on what had heard, she had supposedly said that she would never come back in this 'God forsaken' place again."

"Well actually, with the dedication of those who work here, I would say that God hasn't left this place, but I think I can shed some light on your questions. Hope Christianson may have provided Denise the inspiration that she needed to come back."

"Hope Christianson?" Laura asked weakly. "Is she related to Melanie Christianson? I mean, my mom said that she was working with Melanie, but then I read in the paper that Melanie died."

"She did, and Hope started classes at our school today and she and Denise met in their History class," He explained. "It's been very hard for Hope, she had to deal with a lot of painful stuff these past few days; one of them being the media that has been dogging her as well as her family. Bullies assaulted her at school today too and Denise and I had to help her out. Meeting Denise has been a blessing for her, and she really is going need her friends, Laura."

"I believe You, but You're her friend too, aren't You?" Laura asked somewhat skeptically as she looked at Him. Here He was standing here, but it seemed as though He was somehow distancing himself from the situation again. He sounded like an angel, but something told her that He wasn't one, but who He was had still not been answered in her conscious.

"Yes, of course, but I will be leaving here in the coming weeks and the two girls will have a dynamic chance to work with their project alone," He said. "Hope has been connected to this issue of abuse for a long time and I think one of the things she really would like to do would be to find a means to make a difference. She wants to show this community that her cousin was more than just a sexual abuse statistic, but she wants to world to know what a special and loving person Melanie was. Right now, the way the media is remembering Melanie, is through negative and painful stories, not only attacking the grieving family, but also inundating the community with skewed stereotypes as well as other, more painful and drastic means to spread even more hate and mistrust." He took a deep breath as He continued to speak, His voice soft. "Hope's father has already lost his job because of this negative press, and the only way that Hope Christianson will be able to survive this tragedy will be through the strength and the unconditional love of her friends, as well as her own internalized courage."

Sebastian looked at Him. "I understand what you're saying, and I think that it is important to remember the child who died, but I can't help but wonder why it is you talk about being Hope's friend, but You're not even in there helping them with their project. You're spewing this stuff about being friends, but this seems more than just a little bit strange to me, especially when you think about support and friendship."

"Yes, I Am aware of your concerns, Sebastian," He responded.

"You are?" Laura looked at Him.

He nodded. "Yes, I Am, but the answer is quite simple, I won't be able to stay for good here in town. Before you came over here, Sebastian, Laura mentioned home to Me, well, I Am going Home very soon." He looked at her intently, His deep blue eyes filled with understanding.

Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. "OK, whatever You say." He looked at his wife. "I have another class meeting now, so I'd better get going, please excuse me." With those words, he left the two of them.

"He's got a German class," Laura explained, but she looked at Him. "Listen, I don't want to come across rude, I mean; I know how important it is to have friends encourage someone, but I can't get all these things out of my mind. Did You somehow force Denise to come here and work on this project? I mean; she was pretty adamant about not coming back here and I just thought that seeing her here was strange. Denise had pretty much stopped coming here over the past weeks, so it kind of surprises me to see her here, but I guess You can imagine how strange, under these circumstances, it is to see her looking so happy."

"I didn't force her to do anything, she made a choice," He said softly. "But, I'm curious about something. Tell Me, aren't you happy to see her smiling again?"

Laura's face flushed. "Of course I am, but look, I know that this all sounds bizarre to You, and I think You know that I want her to be happy, it is just that under these specific circumstances, it is very strange to see her looking so happy. She hasn't been this way in weeks, and I don't blame her for feeling miserable. She worked with Jo for years on this, and now…" Her voice trailed off and she shook her head, thus stopping herself from continuing. "Never mind…"

"You know that Jo is dying?" He asked, this causing her to abruptly stop and turn and look at Him.

Eventually, she nodded, her voice catching in her throat. "She collapsed here a few weeks ago and I saw…" she shook her head suddenly, the flow of words abruptly stopping.

"…You saw Andrew?" Al asked softly, but when he saw the shock that crossed her face, He smiled gently. "You don't have to worry, Laura, I know Andrew, and I also know Adam, Tess, Monica, and Gloria. Hope knows Adam as well, she has known him for a number of years now, just as you have known him since you were a little girl." He smiled when He saw her surprised face. "I know a lot of things about you, I know that you are friends with Andrew and Adam and that they are angels. Your family is by no means the only one who has been in contact with angels. You see; Hope's family also has had a great deal of divine intervention."

"I would hope so, I mean; according to what I have heard about this family, I would hope that God would send them a lot of angels," she whispered.

"He did," Al said softly nodding His head.

"You?" She asked weakly.

He shook His head.

"OK, then tell me something, I know that you are friends with my little sister, and that you would not hurt her, but who are You and how is it that you know so much about me and my family? I know I've never seen You before, but I can't get over this strange feeling that I know You, or am I just loosing my mind?"

"You'd be very surprised if you knew the truth," He smiled clandestinely. "Before your sisters walk across the stage and receive their high school diplomas, you will know who I Am, but you will figure it out on your own without any help from Me, or from an angel."

"After some of the strange things I have experienced in my life, then chances are, nothing would surprise me anymore," she said softly as she started to walk towards her office.

When He didn't respond, she nodded. "None of my questions will be answered," she mused, but when she turned around, but she realized that He had walked away and she shook her head. Something strange was happening around here, but when she found a slip of paper now resting in her hand, she looked down at it, she immediately recognized two Greek letters scrawled across it. Sighing deeply, she stuffed the slip of paper into her pocket and walked with weighted steps back to her office.

Behind her, the Father stood. He could see that she was trying very hard to understand what it was that was happening, but right now, He knew that it was not the time to reveal to her that she had seen Him before.

Soon, My child, He thought to Himself as He watched her disappear inside a small office, but that won't be until after the prom. Right now, He would concentrate His attention on Hope and Denise, both girls would need Him in the coming weeks and He had every intention of being there for them.

*****

The weeks passed slowly as the night of the senior prom drew closer, Jo's condition worsened. She had spoken to Denise a few times since the day she had left school, most of the conversations centering on the now healing relationship that Denise had with her parents as well as Hope Christianson, who was now taking her place with the program at the community center.

She had met Hope for the first time during the afternoon after Hope had decided to join the project and work alongside Denise with it. She had been completely shocked to see Denise with a new lease on life and it filled her with the utmost joy to see her friend actually finding the old joy in the project that she, herself, once had. For some reason, Jo knew that both Denise and Hope were going to be OK and that the healing they were experiencing would help them to somehow let go of her, maybe forget that a girl named Jo Peterson even existed and they could get on with their lives.

It was no secret, the eighteen-year-old girl was now overwhelmingly relieved by the fact that Denise was doing much better and during their last conversation, Denise had said that she could finally understand that Jo needed to know that she would be OK so that she could die without any regrets, thus finding her peace.

As she sighed happily, she realized how this had all come about during that one afternoon but Jo also remembered how much courage it had taken for Denise to be so honest about her feelings. Denise had said that Al was part of the reason she had found her peace, and Jo found that the boy Denise had met had been a blessing. She smiled thinking that although she had never met Al, she found herself feeling grateful to Him for helping her best friend eventually find her peace.

On this particular night, Jo could feel almost a deep sense of serenity that encased her. She had barely paid attention to the fact that her mother was in living room, her sister practicing her clarinet for the school band. Katie had gotten pretty good at playing, but every so often she could hear a very loud shrill squeak through the wall, followed by Katie's words of frustration before the music continued. Whenever the instrument would squeak again, Jo would unconsciously cringe.

Looking around the room, she had reminders of the past years all around her, but her eyes grew heavy as she stared at the items that had come to mean so much to her. Anymore, she did not much care about anything, she was tired and wanted to rest. Still seated in her wheelchair she closed her eyes, but between the heavy lids, she could see a dim light. As she found something warm and inviting in this light, she opened her eyes more to see that the light had grown in vibrancy and intensity until her room was entirely filled with light and the silhouette of a man stood before her. She rubbed her eyes, but when she recognized her celestial visitor, she smiled weakly as Andrew came closer to her.

"Jo, can you hear me?" He asked, his words literally encompassing her every thought and all that she knew was that he was so beautiful that she would have followed him to the ends of the earth and beyond.

"Andrew," She whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hello, Jo," the angel came over to her, the light that surrounded him practically illuminating the room, but when she felt the warmth of the light, she reached out as though wanting to touch it, but somehow feeling as though she was not able to. After a few moments, she withdrew her hand.

The angel crouched down next to her and took one of her hands gently in his own. "You're not alone, Jo," he said smiling. "Monica came to help you take care of the last things you needed to accomplish before you would go Home, and they are completed. Your prayers have been answered, sweetheart. God has made sure that your family and friends found their peace before this precise moment would come, and now, it is time for the same peace that you have wished for those around you to befall you. That is why you are now at this particular moment."

"Then that means it's time?" She whispered. "I'm dying tonight."

"Yes," He whispered, one of his hands still holding hers tightly.

"I'm afraid, Andrew," she said softly. "I know that you have told me there is nothing to fear, but I am afraid."

"I know," he smiled gently at her as his eyes regarded hers comfortingly. Within seconds, he reached over and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. When she could no longer feel anything, He spoke, his voice gentle. "The hard part is behind you. Stand up, Jo, it's time to go."

"Stand?" She whispered, "b-but Andrew, I can't."

"Yes, you can, just look around you," he whispered and she did as He said.

All around her was light and when she looked down at herself, she could see that now she wore a white gown, her hair hanging loosely down over her shoulders. She put her hands on the arms of her wheelchair and noticed that she could get to her feet with ease, and within seconds, she was standing, her body encased in the same golden glowing light as the angel who now stood next to her. "Andrew, I'm standing, I'm actually standing." She smiled brightly as she threw herself into his arms.

"Yes, you are," the angel said gently as he wrapped her in his arms. After a few moments, he gently gripped her shoulders and turned her slowly around so that she could see the room where she, as a teenager, spent much of her time. When she looked over at the wheelchair that was in the middle of the room, she gasped when she saw that her physical body was slumped in the wheelchair.

"That was it?" She asked softly as she looked down at herself once again.

"Yes, the pain is now over, Jo, now the journey Home will begin," Andrew said and offered her his hand.

Jo reached over and accepted it and allowed him to lead her towards a loving light that was beckoning her in the distance. She smiled as she came closer to the light, but after a moment, she stopped and looked at Andrew. "Please, Andrew, tell Denise that I'm happy; tell them all."

"I will," Andrew promised softly.

In the distance, Jo could see that someone was standing, and confused, she looked at back at Andrew before focusing her attention on the individual who was now coming towards them. "Andrew, who is that?" She eventually asked, her voice a whisper.

"That is our Father, in a familiar Human form," Andrew said and when Jo came closer, she suddenly recognized the man and nodded. She had recalled meeting Him; it was the day she had told Denise that she was dying.

"I remember Him, He was at the community center and He was the man who said that I had to do what was right for me," she smiled weakly.

Andrew nodded. "And you did, and He is going to tell you that, but not in the way you think, just watch."

Jo looked at the Father, and by the time she had reached Him, all the physical trappings that He seemed to have had suddenly disappeared and all she saw was a wonderful light which was now surrounding her and giving her the most profound feeling of love. When she turned back to thank Andrew for all he had done, she realized that he was gone and she stood basking in the wonderful light of God's unconditional love.

*****

It was late when someone tapped on Denise's bedroom door and the teenager woke up. She glanced over at the alarm clock, pushed the blankets to the side, crawled out of bed, and went to open the door. As she pulled it open, she could see that Andrew stood on the other side.

For his part, the angel stood, his gaze never faltering and he regarded her with a pair of compassionate and concerned green eyes.

"Andrew, what is it, it's nearly midnight," she whispered as she tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

"We need to talk, Denise," he said softly. "May I come in?"

"W-what is it?" She asked him softly, but when he did not speak, somewhere deep inside of her knew what it was. She looked to him, all the while hoping that he would shake his head; that her worst fears were not about to be confirmed. "Jo?" She asked meekly and the angel nodded numbly.

"Andrew, it's not true, please don't tell me that…" her voice trailed off. Andrew was dressed in a beige suit; the same suit he wore when he was sent to be someone's Angel of Death, and now, the one person that she was thinking of was Jo.

Swallowing the lump that had lodged itself in her throat and taking in his immaculate appearance, she knew what he was going to tell her, yet neither of them spoke, the words were simply not coming, but after a few moments, the tears caught in her eyes and she looked up and her unhappy eyes met those of the angel.

"Jo's dead…" she whispered, her voice trailing off and she could feel the pain lodging itself in her heart, her head literally spinning as she slid to the floor all the while she covered her face with her hands and began to cry and shake her head at the same precise moment.

Andrew came over to her and got down on the floor next to her, his arms wrapping around her. "She was ready to go Home, Denise," he whispered gently. "She asked me to tell you that she's happy now."

"I'm loosing everyone, one person at a time," she whispered. "I know I should have been ready to let go, but…" Her voice trailed off and she could feel the emotions somehow getting the better of her.

"It's hard, I understand," Andrew smiled gently at her, his arm wrapping around her. "Would it help if I tell you about what happened?"

"I-I don't know," she whispered. "I thought it would be easier knowing that Hope was going to help me, but I keep thinking about the Father. He's only going to be here a short time and then He's going to leave just like Jo."

"The Father is not going to leave you, He loves you, Denise, and He may not physically be with you always, but Denise He is present, and His love can comfort you through all of this."

The teenager nodded. "Andrew I know you're right, at least in my heart I believe you, but I'm physical, and I need someone who is physically here, someone who will hold me when I am sad, someone who will be there for me, not just in a spiritual sense. Deep in my heart, I know that you're going to leave soon, and that will probably mean that the Father is going to leave, too. But, now I just don't know if I have the courage to go on without you."

"You do, I know you do," the angel said softly, but she looked down at her lap as she shook her head and the tears streamed from beneath her unhappy eyes. Andrew reached over and gently brushed his fingertips against the side of her face. "I know this is hard, Denise, and I would never tell you otherwise, but you will never ever be alone Denise, regardless of what happens, the Father will be there for you, always."

Denise took a deep breath. "I-I just can't believe she's gone." The teenager could feel her energy giving out and she collapsed in the arms of the angel. "She had so much strength, she was able to deal with things so much better than me, she…"

Andrew held her tightly in his arms, his finger pressed gently against her lips. "Jo was a strong person, yes, that is true, but don't let the best of what you are die. Jo knew from the start that you had something special to give, that you are a very special and kind person, Denise, and that's why she and you worked so well together on this. That was why when she had to face death, she did with courage, but she couldn't have done so without the peace that she needed. When you gave her that, you allowed her to go Home, and that was what she truly needed."

The teenager nodded. "It's hard to believe."

"I know, but let me tell you something, Jo made the choice, and in the end, she knew that you, her mom, and sister were all going to be OK," the angel brushed a lock of hair out from in front of her face, but when he saw her shaking her head, he reemphasized his point with a simple nod of his head. "Its true, sweetheart."

"I'm not," she whimpered.

"You will be OK, you have a lot of support on your side now, you have Christina and Jeremy, and you have Dawn, Hope, and the Father, but you also have me," he said. "No matter where your friends are, we are never more than a thought away."

Denise nodded. "I'm going to miss her, Andrew."

"I know you are going to, and that's OK, just allow yourself the time you need to work through all of this," he said gently. "Come on, it's late you need to get some rest, don't you?"

"I don't think I'll sleep," she whispered. "I feel positively miserable."

"I'll tell you what, I'll stay with you until you go to sleep, and then tomorrow, we'll see each other again, OK?" The angel asked gently.

Denise nodded and as she started to get to her feet, she was surprised that Andrew had gotten to his feet first and without saying a word, he picked her up in his arms. "What are you doing, Andrew?"

The angel smiled secretly as he placed her gently on the bed and when she felt the pillow beneath her head, she closed her eyes as he pulled the blanket up over her and tucked her gently under the covers.

Some moments after turning the lights out, the angel could hear the soft sighs emerging from her, thus indicating that she had fallen asleep. He leaned over, kissed her cheek and once he straightened out, he turned around, and could see that Christina was standing in the doorway. She had been standing there for some moments and seeing him in his beige suit, she knew what had transpired.

"Jo's dead isn't she?" His longtime friend asked softly, all the while trying to keep from waking her now slumbering daughter.

Andrew nodded slowly as he came to the door, his eyes meeting those of Christina. "Denise is very sad about the loss of her friend, but she's gone back to sleep, and I am certain that she will sleep till morning."

Christina nodded. "You took Jo Home?"

"Yes, she was ready, Christina, and it was time for her, she had suffered so much in her young life and I have no regrets for her, but for Denise, I know this is devastating," Andrew said softly.

Christina nodded. "Andrew, please help me to understand all of these things that have happened. During the past few weeks, there have been two children dying, one in such a violent way, and the other one through illness. Why?"

"Denise asked me the same question," he said softly.

"What did you tell her?" She asked.

"I said that she should ask the Father, and I suppose that you should too, though the answers you receive may not be the ones you are seeking," Andrew whispered.

"What if He doesn't answer?" Christina asked softly.

"He always answers," Andrew said softly. "Just not in the way you always think."

Christina took a deep breath, "Andrew, I didn't find out about Denise's teacher until after He was gone. Dawn has been moping around this house for weeks, and I know why, God had made Himself known to Denise, but not to Dawn, and I just want to understand why. I want to know why it is that God told me to help Melanie Christianson only to find out that the child is dead. Andrew, I just want to understand. Is all of this real, or am I just loosing my mind?"

"You're not losing your mind, Christina Lowery," a strange voice emerged and she glanced up to see that the Father was once more in her home and she took a deep breath as she gazed up at Him.

"Why all these riddles, Father? Why are my daughters feeling so lost?" She whispered. "Why am I?"

"Christina, I did not come here to give you riddles or confuse you, I came because a number of My children needed Me," He said softly as He came over and sat down next to her.

Christina nodded but instead of saying anything, she glanced over to the doorway. There Dawn stood, her eyes fixed on the Father, but not even a sound emerging from between her lips.

"Dawn," Christina spoke her daughter's name, but the sadness crossed the teenager's face again and she looked down at the ground, her eyes not able to meet those of the Father.

For her part, the teenager covered her mouth with her hand, and sank to her knees, her thoughts literally going mad as she tried to crawl away from the doorway. Moments seemed to slowly pass and Dawn, instead of sitting in the doorway on her knees, she lost consciousness and collapsed to the floor, her face now against the floor.

At this moment, Andrew stood up with the intention of going to the teenager and taking care of her. As he walked towards her, his eyes filled with sadness, the Father's voice emerged and his intentions were forgotten.

"No, My angel, you stay with Christina, let Me take care of Dawn, it is now the time for her and I to meet," He smiled and looked at Christina. "Don't worry, My child, your questions will find answers, but one of them," he motioned towards Dawn, "will be answered promptly."

Christina nodded as the Father stooped down and pulled the unconscious teenager into His arms and gently, He carried her back to her room. Once He arrived in her room, He carried her over and laid her on the bed. Once He had pulled a blanket up and over her, He brushed a gentle hand through her hair. "Wake up sweetheart," He whispered. "We need to talk, My child."

Moments passed and Dawn groaned, shifted, and slowly opened her eyes. She immediately could see that there was a stranger looking over her and without thinking she opened her mouth with the intention of screaming, but when the Father reached over and pressed two fingers against her lips, this action made her immediately grow silent, but for the life of her, she had no idea why.

"W-who are you?" she moaned weakly, her hands now rubbing the sleep out of her eyes all the while trying to focus on whom it was that was now sitting next to her on the bed.

"You know Me, little one," the Father said gently, His voice filled with love. "You remember the drawing that Jeremy did a few weeks ago at Christina's work, don't you? You recall Denise and Me coming into the library and telling you to come downtown with us."

Dawn nodded numbly, but the word she wanted to say seemed to get stuck in her throat. Eventually, she mouthed the word. "Father?"

He smiled gently and nodded. "Yes, My child, you do know Me." He took a deep breath before continuing to speak. "Don't be afraid, Dawn."

"I-I'm not afraid," she whispered.

"Then don't be nervous, or on edge, it's OK, you have nothing to worry about," He smiled gently at her. "I wanted to let you know that I didn't forget about you."

"W-what took You so long? I mean; you saw Denise and Christina, but why not me? I was starting to think that You didn't like me," She asked weakly as she sat up in bed, but her head started spinning and she fell back against the pillows.

"You did see me, not just at the office building where your mother works, but you saw me a number of times before or since then, you just chose not to speak to Me," He said all the while smiling gently at her.

"I did, really?" She asked weakly. "I thought for a long time that…that I wasn't important enough to You to come see me."

"Oh but you are, that's why I'm here right now, just for you, Dawn. We're going to talk a little and then you can go to sleep," He smiled gently at her.

"After I found out who You are, I felt so stupid," she whispered.

"Why?" He asked gently.

"For the first time in a long time, I actually knew how Denise has often felt, because You shoved me to the side like we all had done with Denise. It was not very nice, in fact, it was really hard."

"I shoved you aside?" He asked.

"Yeah, You said that all of my questions would be answered later, but I never saw You. Then everyone else started talking about when they had seen You, Christina told us about when Andrew had been unhappy and how You had been here, and then Denise had lots to talk about, and even Jeremy mentioned something, but I didn't have anything to say. I felt like nothing I had to say would mean anything. You were with the others but not me," she wiped the tears from her eyes as she tried to find the courage to look at Him. "I don't think that that is very fair."

The Father reached over and took her hands in His. "I know, but Dawn, I'm here now, and tomorrow you'll have something to talk about. Yet, right now, I want you to know that both you and Denise are very important, you are both My children, and you are both beautiful in My eyes," the Father smiled gently at her.

"I am?" She asked weakly.

He nodded, His hand reaching over and He gently touched her face.

"Even when I look like something the cat dragged in?" She asked all the while liking His touch and hoping that He would not move His hand away.

"Even then, Dawn, I know that you've been very sad about this whole arrangement, you thought that if Christina and Denise had seen Me and were friends with Me, then you would feel less important or significant, but the truth is, you are just as important to Me as they are, and it was your prayer that brought Me here."

"Mine? I don't remember," she whispered.

"I know you don't, but you asked Me to send Denise a friend because you could tell that she was unhappy, and that she was lonely. So I came, and some of My angels came with Me, but I knew that before I would return Home that I would come to see the selfless little angel whose prayer brought Me here." He continued to stroke her face with the side of His hand. "I'm very, very proud of you, sweetheart."

She reached up and touched His hand and when He felt this, He moved His hand from her face and took her hand in both of His. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and felt His hand holding firmly but gently to her own. "I…I love You," she whispered.

"I know you do, My child, and I love you very much," He said softly. "Now, it's time to rest, it's very late."

"Will I see You again, Father?" She whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

"You never know when or where, Dawn, but you're not alone, don't ever believe that you are," He smiled gently at her, but He remained by her side.

"You're not leaving?" She asked weakly.

"Do you want me to?" He asked, His eyes twinkling merrily.

"No, I guess I just thought that You were going back into the other room," she said softly.

"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," He promised, but touched her face with His gentle fingertips. "Now, close your eyes, My little one."

She did, and within minutes had drifted off to sleep. Once she was sleeping peacefully, He got up and left the room and turned off the light behind Him. Once He stepped out into the hallway, He could hear Christina and Andrew speaking to one another in the guest room. He waited a few minutes and then walked slowly into the room. "Dawn's asleep now, Christina."

"Thank You," she whispered softly, her own eyes also beginning to droop and He could tell that she was beginning to phase out of consciousness.

"Andrew, Jo is happily Home, thank you for taking care of her," the Father said gently as He looked at Christina who sat slumped in a nearby chair. "Now then, seeing as Christina is nearly asleep. I realize that it is very late, you have had a long day, and now it is time for rest, not just for you, My angel, but also for your little angel." The Father stood up and went over to where Christina now rested. "You take care of yourself, Christina, and do not forget, I Am not disappointed in you, I Am immensely proud of you and I love you dearly, My little one." With that, He kissed her cheek and disappeared.

Once He was gone, Andrew stood up. "Christina, I think it's time for bed."

She remained seated and he nodded, she was asleep, and instead of waking her, he went over and picked her up in his arms. He carried her out of the room, down the hall and into her and Jeremy's bedroom. Jeremy was still awake, his eyes immersed in a book.

"Jeremy?" Andrew spoke, causing Christina's husband to look up, his eyes widening when he saw the angel holding her gently in his arms.

"What on Earth?" Jeremy crawled out of bed and looked at the angel.

"Could you pull the bedding back, she fell asleep when the Father was talking to her," Andrew said softly.

"He was back?" Jeremy asked.

"He's always here, Jeremy, you just need to accept that, now please," Andrew stepped closer to the bed.

Jeremy nodded as Andrew laid Christina on the bed and once she had turned onto her side, the angel pulled the blanket up and over her. Once she was tucked in, Andrew leaned down and kissed her forehead. He raised his head and saw that Jeremy was looking at him with annoyance on his face.

"My apologies," Andrew said, his face flushing slightly and seeing this made Jeremy start to chuckle.

"Don't worry about it, sometimes I guess I think you're more a friend then an angel, Andrew," Jeremy said softly. "I guess when I see you dressed like that, I should be accustomed to the idea that you are an angel."

Andrew smiled weakly as he looked at Jeremy. "Good night."

"Night Andrew," Jeremy returned as the angel left the room and he reached over and turned off the light.

*****

Hope slowly opened her eyes the following morning. It was Saturday and she was glad of that, she could stay in bed and sleep all day, but something told her that she should probably get up, that there were things she needed to do, one was to meet Denise at the community center.

"Hope!" A voice called out and she looked towards the door to see her mother standing in the doorway.

"What's up, Mom?" She asked as Anna came into the room.

"Your friend Denise just called, honey, she's going to have to cancel her meeting with you for this afternoon," Anna said softly.

"Did she say why?" Hope asked softly.

"No she didn't, but she sounded very sad, so I am guessing it was something that involved the friend of hers that you told me about last night after you got home," Anna offered. "By the way, your father went down to the unemployment office earlier this morning, so we'll have breakfast alone today, but he should be back in time for lunch."

"OK, Mom," Hope said smiling weakly.

With that Anna left the room and Hope crawled out of bed. It had been a long week, and now she was grateful for a weekend where she could rest and relax. Outside, the sun was shining, and it looked as though it was going to be a beautiful day. However, within seconds, the doorbell chimed from down the hall and she could hear the sounds of her mother going to answer it.

She took a deep breath as she stretched and began to dig through her closet in the hopes of finding something comfortable to put on. After a few moments, her mother's screams emerged through the apartment and she disregarded her search for clothing as she made a mad dash towards the door leading out into the hallway. When she suddenly could feel someone's hand resting on her shoulder, she jerked around to see that Adam was now standing in front of her, the angel's eyes filled with sadness as he regarded his young friend.

"A-Adam, w-why are you here?" She whispered.

Adam pressed a finger against his lips, his eyes never faltering, but he regarded her with the utmost sadness. "Hope, there's something I have to tell you. Your mother is finding out about it right now, but your father has been taken to the hospital. That's why your mother just screamed, the police are here and they have just informed your mother of this and the Father asked me to come tell you as well as be with you."

"What happened?" She looked at the angel. "Please Adam, you have to tell me."

"He was assaulted when he went to look for a job. People are reading the lies about your family in the paper, and they are responding to your family in the same manner," Adam whispered. "Benjamin is in a coma right now, Hope, and the doctors aren't exactly sure he is going to come out. The Father says he will, and He is with him right now, but He wanted me to come and tell you."

Hope nodded numbly as her mother came back into the room. She didn't see the angel standing in her daughter's room, but she spoke, her voice filled with sadness. "Get dressed quickly, Hope, we have to leave right away. Your father was assaulted this morning, and…"

The young girl nodded and she reached into her closet and pulled out the first outfit her hand touched. As she got dressed, she stared down at the floor not bothering to say anything to Adam and not really knowing if the angel was even present.

A few minutes later, she left the room all the while taking a deep and staggering breath. No one in this town will ever accept us, she thought to herself. It was futile to even try, she thought bitterly as she grabbed her jacket from the hallway closet and followed her mother to the door. Behind her, Adam stood, the angel staring after them as they left the apartment.

Remaining in angelic form, he disappeared and reappeared outside in the courtyard. When he saw the mother and daughter walking towards their car, he started to follow them, but stopped and stared in the distance when he could see these people coming towards Anna and Hope. After a few minutes, their voices emerged and the angel could see that a small crowd of people were staring to form in the parking lot, their judgmental eyes on the two of them, some of them even beginning to shout obscenities at them.

Anna wrapped a protective arm around her daughter and once she had made sure Hope was in the car, she went around to get into the driver's side.

"Sexual Abusers should be locked away for good," one woman shouted at Anna and the grumbles of the other neighbors could be heard resonating through the small crowd.

"I'm surprised that the cops didn't run her off to jail like the rest of that crooked family," a man's voice was heard and Hope could feel the tears in her eyes as they came closer to the car. Hope's eyes widened and she started to look frantically around the area for Adam as Anna managed to get into the car without getting assaulted by the crowd of angry tenants.

Upon seeing Hope's frightened eyes, Adam took a deep breath and started to approach the car. Anna may be strong and capable of handling any situation, he thought to himself, but right now, she was certainly not in the proper mindset to drive a car.

As Anna tried without success at sticking the key into the ignition, she could see the crowd getting closer. "Mom, they're getting closer," Hope whispered, the fright in her eyes as she continued to look around the parking lot for her angel. Seconds passed and she released a pent up sigh when he tapped on the driver's side window.

Anna, seeing the compassion in the gray eyes of the angel, hesitantly rolled down the window. "What do you want?" She asked weakly almost accusingly. "Are you here to put us down or hurt us?"

"No, I'm here to help you, my name is Adam, and I know that you both had a terrible shock today," the angel said softly. "Don't worry, I have no intentions of hurting either one of you. But, they do…" He pointed across the parking lot where the crowd of neighbors had grown. "…Now, I want you to move over, you're not in the frame of mind to be driving a car at all, so I'll drive you both to the hospital," he said as he opened the door and once she had inched to the middle of the front seat, Adam got behind the wheel and started the motor.

As he drove them out of the area, he looked at the two of them every so often, all the while trying to keep his eyes on the street. It was obvious to the angel that they both looked monumentally relieved when they saw the angry faces of their neighbors disappearing in the distance.

"Why are you doing this?" Anna eventually asked, her voice wavering.

"Because you need help, both of you do," Adam pulled the car to one side of the street. As he cut the motor, he looked at them, his eyes filled with serenity. "Anna, Hope already knows who I am, but you don't and the Father wants you to know the truth right now, before we get to the hospital, before you see members of the press who are waiting for you there."

"The Father?" Anna looked at him.

"God, Mom, it may sound weird to you, but I met Him, I talked to Him," Hope whispered her eyes on her lap as the final words emerged. "He was nice to me."

Anna took a deep breath, her eyes still on the road. "My husband has been beaten into a coma, and now I have some religious fanatic telling me stuff about God? If God is so great, then tell me what kind of God would allow this to happen? What kind God would allow my niece to die and let sexual abusers out onto the street? What kind of God would let people judge us based only on what our last name is and not realize that Hope is just as much a victim in all of this as Melanie was? Tell me…please, for God's sake, tell me…" Her voice trailed off and Adam looked at her.

"I can't," Adam whispered as he began to glow, the light of God's love enveloping him. Serenely, he began to speak once again all the while taking in the horrified expression that now crossed Anna's face. "I'm only an angel, Anna, I would never hurt you, but I also cannot second guess what the Father's will is anymore than I can tell you why it is that your little girl was abused, or why it is that her cousin was murdered."

"Murdered? I-I don't understand, they said that Melanie had a reaction to some kind of medication," Anna objected.

Adam shook his head. "There have been many stories that have been told, many false truths that have overwhelmed your family over the course of the weeks since Melanie's death, but one of things that people do not know yet and that the attorneys for Hope's grandmother and Melanie's parents are trying to do is hide the fact that Melanie was murdered. In the care of psychiatrists and behind the backs of medical professionals, Melanie was given a very high-powered anti-psychotic that had only been used in laboratory tests and not been approved for human consumption. This drug will later be deemed as unsuitable for human usage, thus will be destroyed and not ever used. Louise knew the dangers of this drug, but she approved it and gave it freely to her granddaughter. As a nurse, no one objected having Melanie take this drug, thus it was very easy for Louise to give her an over-dosage of it. In taking it, Melanie stood no chance of survival and if she had beaten the odds and survived, then she would have been severely mentally handicapped as a result."

"Why would Louise do such a thing?" Anna asked.

"Because she didn't want Melanie to tell anyone what had really happened with her parents," Hope said softly. "She had found out about a letter that Melanie had written to me, and she came after me. I had gone downtown about a week ago to give Christina Lowery the letter that Melanie had written. After you and Dad saw it, I was afraid that she would come after you. I don't know how she found out about the letter, but she showed up and told Christina Lowery that you and Dad were dead, and that you were killed in a car accident. I guess she wanted Mrs. Lowery to believe her and then turn me over to her. When she didn't believe it, my grandmother pulled a gun on us. Adam was there."

Anna looked at the angel. "Y-you were there?"

He nodded. "Yes, I had been sent to be with Hope no matter what would have happened, I wasn't about to leave her alone for anything. However, during the course of the confrontation, Hope managed to escape from her grandmother, but Christina was still in danger and her angel, Andrew, was with her until Denise and Al came in and using their experiences managed to bring all of this to an end."

Anna looked at her daughter. "Why didn't you tell us about it?"

Hope sighed deeply. "I was scared to, I mean, I had gotten that letter a few days before Melanie had died, and didn't know what to do with it. I thought…" She looked down at her lap the words simply not coming.

"…She thought that if she kept the truth from you, that she was protecting you and your husband," Adam said gently as he reached over and squeezed Anna's shoulder. "The Father knew that you and your family wanted to stay here in this town. He also knew you were born here, and this was the only home you knew, thus He knew how much you wanted to stay. Yet, through it all, there is something that you will have to do so that you can stay and live in peace here."

"What Adam? I mean; how can we?" Hope asked.

The angel smiled at his young friend. "You have to find the courage to speak out about what has happened. You have tried for weeks to conceal it, to keep this to yourself, but people here know only what a biased media has been them. They have forgotten what it feels like to think as an individual would. It would either be that or they have forgotten what it means to regard their fellow man with empathy and compassion. Now, you have the chance to give them a new piece of truth, and this truth will not just combat all the lies, but it will do away with them, simply because you will know that the Father of us all, will dwell in that truth." Adam said softly, but when Anna did not speak, he continued, his voice soft. "Tell them what happened, what you both know, and trust that God will be there and help you through it all. Yes, your husband will survive what has happened to him, but if you keep this truth inside, then you may endure far more than facing this today. It is time for you both to find the courage to bring this tragic story to a close. God knows the truth, and He also knows how frightened you both are to tell it, but that, and that alone, will bring this whole sorted mess to a happy end."

"W-we thought it would be best for Hope to not get her involved in a media circus," Anna whispered. "We thought that if we were to ignore all of this, then the story would just go away and we would be left in peace, but then Benjamin lost his job earlier this month, we didn't know if it was because of the lies. Then, we were afraid of what would have happened and then we started to think that it would be close to impossible for us to stay here."

Adam shook his head. "It's not impossible, Anna, but you must understand that the story will not go away. No matter how much you want for it to disappear, it won't, and not even Hope's newfound involvement with Denise's awareness project is going to make a difference. People will not see the truth for what it is unless you decide to tell it, that means both of you, because if you don't, your daughter will not be able to walk the halls of her school with her head held high."

Anna nodded and looked at the angel. "My husband needs us," she whispered.

"I know he does, but your daughter needs you too, Anna, and five minutes is not going to change his condition, but it will change your own," Adam said softly as he pulled the car back out onto the street. "You have a choice, too, Anna." He said softly once they had reached the downtown sectors of the city and he pulled into a parking spot.

Not too far away from the glass doors leading into the building, Anna and Hope could see that various members of the press were now assembled and they looked at Adam.

"I'm frightened, Adam," Hope whispered. "I don't think I can do this."

The angel smiled gently at her. "You can do anything you set your mind to. Your cousin was not the only courageous person here, Hope, you possess a great deal of courage, and much of this you are not yet aware of." He reached over and rested his hand gently on her shoulder. "Remember who it was who had inspired Denise to let go and keep living."

Anna looked at her daughter. "He's right, and something tells me that we're going to have to do this now, before we can see your father."

Hope nodded. "God is with him, Mom, Adam told me earlier, let's just get this behind us, and maybe by lunchtime, we'll finally have some peace."

Anna got out of the car and Hope followed suit as the members of the press literally bombarded them with questions.

This time instead of running from the reporters, as she had often done in the past, Anna reached out and grabbed one of the microphones that one of the reporters held. "I'll give it back," she offered softly, "but this time, it's my turn, and I'm not going to mince my words."

The reporter nodded and she held up the object all the while taking a deep breath. "I'm ready to tell you all the truth now. First of all, I didn't come forward with my story before because I thought I was protecting my daughter. Now, I realize that until I did come out with the truth, you were all going to go back to your newspapers, magazines, and television studios and report something that was untrue about myself or my family." She took a deep breath as she looked out across the throng of reporters and began to speak, her voice soft. "My name is Anna Christianson, and this is my daughter, Hope. We gave her that name because she was representative of all the hopes and dreams that her father and I had in our lives. Her birth was nothing short of a miracle, and we have always cherished this child, she is a bundle of unlimited potential, as well as is the epitome of honesty and compassion. I have never been as proud of anyone as I am in my daughter." She took a deep breath as she continued to speak.

"My husband, Benjamin, this morning lays in a coma, and when we finish talking to you here, we will go up to see him. He was blindly assaulted by a group of fanatics at the unemployment office simply because of the 'so called' truths that the media has seen fit to spew all over this town about him, my daughter, and myself. To answer any outstanding questions, yes, my husband does have a brother and a sister in law, both of whom have been taken into custody on several counts of sexual misconduct with minors. In other words, they are pedophiles, there is absolutely no nice way of putting it; it is what it is. We, my husband, daughter, and I have positively no empathy for these individuals and we would be the first to say that we want justice for any and all children affected by their actions. In other words, with all of you as our witnesses, I hereby sever any and all ties with my husband's mother, his brother, and sister-in-law."

As she spoke, Hope nodded adamantly. "You can see that my daughter has also made the same decision. The only contact that may have existed between them and us came through my daughter who is only guilty of having loved her cousin Melanie with her whole heart. Once Benjamin and I discovered that our daughter had been abused, we made a few mistakes, one of them is hiding because of the nightmare our daughter endured, but how many of you would have done the same thing to protect your children. In this day and age, society seems to take it upon itself to incriminate the victims and not the perpetrators. As a result of what has transpired, we thought with the judgments of our peers being so harshly stacked against us, we concluded that it would have been the best choice to hide away. If we could just come to grips with our overwhelming horror and shock, then maybe we could resolve the painful reality we were horrible parents incapable of taking care of and protecting the greatest blessing that God has blessed us with…our daughter."

With tears now streaming down her face, and openly crying, Anna lowered the microphone, but after a few moments, she raised it again. "When this tragedy seeped into our lives two years ago, it destroyed any and all semblances of a normal life for all three of us. However, in the wake of Melanie's death, we have not only been assaulted by people in this town, we have been falsely accused of something we absolutely didn't do, of something that we would never do. Here in this community of my youth, in the only home I have ever known in my life, I have to stand before you and tell you that my husband and I never laid a hand on a child, that we would never hurt anyone, that we would actually have to prove our sincerity because society has seen fit to lay waste to us based solely on a biased media. Any semblance of a normal life for us is dead, and all because of a crop of lies."

Hope looked over at her mother as Anna broke down and cried. Adam came over and wrapped her in his arms and once Anna had sat down not too far away, Hope was handed a microphone and she looked at her mother. "In all the holy books that we profess to cling to, it says 'love thy neighbor'. Yet, when I see a bunch of grown ups not setting this kind of example for their children, I think I am blessed to have the parents I have." She took a deep breath. "It's a travesty that I should have to stand here, I'm only sixteen, and the pain that my parents have been through, but it is clear, I have dealt with this as well. I have been called 'used goods', 'a tramp', and even 'a whore', by my classmates, yet, they are learning it from someone, probably from the maniacs who attacked my dad this morning."

She looked at the reporters and then back at her mother, whom Adam was still consoling and she took a deep breath. "My mother told the truth, I want nothing further to do with my aunt, my uncle and grandmother. I don't care if I have to go all the way to the supreme court, I will get the system to listen to me, I will get them to help me, but not in the way that they helped Melanie, because they only threw her to the wolves and she was only twelve." She shook her head and looked at the reporters who had, by this time started to look sheepishly around.

"While I was in the home of my aunt and uncle, they abused me as well as Melanie. When we arrived at the home of my grandmother, Louise Christianson, I prayed to God that this woman would help us both out of the situation, but she was just as evil, just as mean, and just as dangerous as my aunt and uncle were. When my parents found out about what had happened to both of us; it was discovered only recently through a letter that Melanie had written to me." Hope reached inside her pocket and pulled out a crumpled up sheet of notebook paper. She unfolded it and began to read, her voice cracking by the time she had reached the end of the letter.

As she returned the letter to her pocket, she continued to speak, her voice laced with her own emotions. "All of these things happened after Melanie and I had seen Denise Wallace and Jo Peterson give an interview on television. These two girls saved my life, and they helped me to see the truth for what it was. They showed me in a profound way that if two strangers can care so much about kids like me, then maybe there is some hope that this kind of thing could stop, that kids who are sexually abused are not 'used goods' or 'bad', but that we are victims of a crime, and deserve to be treated with human compassion, respect, and understanding. And just because my last name happens to be Christianson, and just because my father is the brother of a pedophile, does not mean that my parents condone this kind of thing or, God forbid, that they are pedophiles themselves." As she spoke, the tears streamed down her face, but instead of stopping, her despondency emerged in her following words. "Those who beat up my father are really no better than those who harm homosexuals, or sexually abuse children. You profess to love your neighbor, but you can't even bring yourself to actually do it."

With that, she handed the microphone back to the reporter and went over to where her mother now sat alone on the bench. "Mom, let's go see how Dad's doing," she said sadly as she reached for her mother's hand.

Once Anna had nodded and accepted the hand of her daughter, she followed her through the glass doors and into the hospital.

The reporters who had heard the words of both mother and daughter stared at each other, most of them not speaking, but as an awkward silence descended on the parking lot, Adam watched as they started to disperse. The angel suddenly looked around to hear that, in the distance, someone had started to applaud and before anyone knew it, the applause drifted across the parking lot and the angel smiled and nodded as he too began to clap his hands.

As he looked up, he could see that the Father, in the guise of an 18-year-old boy was the one who had started this trend of applause and smiling, he disappearing.

*****

That afternoon, Denise came out of the house and looked around. She was dressed in a dark gray colored dress, but she could feel the sun beating down on her, it's warmth literally absorbing itself in the fabric of what she was wearing. Instead of frowning, she smiled, but only slightly. The events of the previous evening were still cursing through her mind, but as she walked down the street, she could hear the sounds of the radio emerging from the driveway in front of one of the neighbors' homes. She looked around and could see that Jake Phillips was under his car giving it an oil change. Sticking out from under it, she could see his legs, one foot scratching another and soft humming emerging as she came closer.

As she did, the news broadcast came up and she could distinctly hear Hope's voice sounding over the airwaves. There was no question in her mind, it was the voice of her friend, but she couldn't understand why it was she was even on the radio.

At that moment, Jake slid out from under his car, the middle aged man looking up at her as he sat up, thus trying without success at rubbing some of the grime away. "Which 'D' are you?" He asked smiling impishly at her. He knew the two girls, his favorite Sunday afternoon pastime was watching the football games with Jeremy, so his family and hers had come to know each other rather well, but he was still guilty of mixing the twins up. He made it easy, he would call them 'D' and both she and her sister found that to be a relaxed thing about their neighbor.

"I'm Denise," she replied as she reached for the roll of paper towels that was next to the radio and ripped three of them from the roll and handed them to him.

"Thanks kiddo," he offered as he rubbed the soft paper against his face, the sweat and oil now no longer on his face, he looked at her. "So, how's Jeremy doing, still getting into trouble trying to light up his grill?"

Denise smiled, this was the ongoing gag between the two men, and she and Dawn took great joy in poking fun with Jeremy about this as well. "No, he hasn't started it up yet this spring, but if he does, I'm sure he'll invite you over for burgers or something," she said. "Mr. Phillips, did you hear what specifically was on the news? I heard part of it, but not all."

"Yeah," he smiled as he continued to wipe the paper towels over his face and shake his head. "More breaking news in the Christianson family," he said with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

"The girl that was just on the radio sounded like a friend of mine," she said softly.

Jake nodded. "Well, from the nonsense that the media has managed to spew out about them, that kid really could use all the friends she can get. It seems as though half of the stuff that the news reported about her were lies. You know me, Denise, I love to see snot-nosed reporters end up with egg on their faces, but when they hurt an innocent kid and her parents, well, it seems to me that they deserve all the embarrassment they get."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, so it seems."

"Why so glum?" Jake asked smiling at her. "You look like your best friend just died."

"She did, actually," Denise said softly. "Last night, my friend Jo Peterson died, Mr. Phillips. She and I did all that stuff with the child abuse network, and now…"

The kindhearted neighbor smiled gently at her. "…Hey, I'm sorry," he offered sincerely. "I've got a big mouth, you know that already."

Denise shrugged her shoulders but offered him an unconvincing smile. "No big deal."

"Well, if you don't mind me saying so, it looks like it is a big deal," Jake said. "You know, when I was about your age, my best friend Chuck was killed in a boating accident and that was really hard, so basically, I think you can understand that I do know how you feel. It may seem as though I'm just your greasy old neighbor, who doesn't have a clue about how young folks feel, but the truth is, I do. Every time something happens, I remember Chuck, so I can see that it is painful."

She nodded and started to walk away. "I suppose," she whispered. "I'll see you around."

"OK but, Denise, you take care of yourself. If you need someone to talk to, go talk to your folks, or at worst, come talk to me, I'll listen." He called out and once she nodded, she walked further down the street in the direction of the park, her head down.

Once she sat down on a bench, she began to watch as the neighborhood children were taking advantage of the weekend to have some fun. She could hear the sounds of their squeals of happiness and delight as they ran down the paths and carried on in innocent fun. She took a deep breath, I wish I knew what had happened to Hope this morning, and I wish I could understand what was happening to me right now. She rubbed her eyes with the side of her hand and through this simple action; she could feel the tears that were now streaming down her cheeks.

She took a deep breath all the while trying to make heads or tails of what it was she had heard on Jake Phillip's radio. She had wanted to go see Jennifer and Katie Peterson, but now she had no idea what she would say or do once she got there, so instead of doing anything, she remained seated on the bench.

At times, she could somehow find the words she wanted to say, and she realized how all those times, they felt significant and right, but this time it was different. Everything she had considered saying felt stupid and insignificant, it was as though she no longer had the courage to say what it was she really felt. Even the words 'I'm sorry', seemed like an overused cliché and she knew that she would not ever get those words to come out. "I'm losing people one at a time," she whispered under her breath, but instead of waiting for any sort of answer, she pressed her foot into the earth and stared down at the rocks as she kicked them.

"Just don't lose yourself in all of this," a familiar voice emerged as someone came over and sat down beside her. Upon hearing the compassionate resonance of it, she looked up and into the gentle eyes of Andrew.

"I'm trying not to, Andrew," she whispered more to herself than to him.

"I know, how are you, Denise?" he asked softly.

She shrugged her shoulders and offered his a somewhat shy nod. The first thing she seemed to notice about him was that he was dressed casually, unlike the manner she had seen him the night before when he had given her the news of Jo's passing.

"I thought that maybe you were the Father," she whispered, but stared down at the ground.

"Actually He's part of the reason I'm here now," Andrew said softly. "After He heard Hope and her mother on the radio this morning, He went back Home, but He asked me to give you a message." Andrew pulled out an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

Denise accepted the small white rectangular envelope and opened it, looked down and began to read the note. "I guessed as much," she whispered as soon as she had finished reading the message.

"What?"

"He said that I won't see him as Al till the night of the prom when He comes back to fulfill that promise He made to me some days ago," Denise said softly. "It's weird, I have a prom date, and it's with God, but now I don't know what to do," As she spoke the tears streamed down her cheeks, her gaze not straying from her lap. "Jo is gone, Hope is going through all kinds of grief, and, well, now things seem as though they are back to normal. Just another crummy day in paradise."

"If you don't mind me saying so, Denise, there is nothing crummy about things as they are," Andrew said softly.

"Yeah, we'll you're supposed to say that, because for you…" her voice emerged edgy but when she glanced up and into the angel's unhappy eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I wasn't trying to be rude to you, it's just…oh never mind. What does it matter anyway?"

"It matters a lot," Andrew began. "The Father has known from the start that you would need His help, but He also knew that you were strong enough to handle these things without His physical presence. You see, most people don't have the experience of having the Father physically being present in their lives, it is simply a matter of faith that God will see you through."

Denise sighed deeply. "This doesn't help me very much, I need Him now…" Her voice trailed off and Andrew could see the lonely tears that were streaming down her face. "Don't you see? He's gone, Hope is at the hospital, at least that was what I could make out on the radio and I don't have anyone here to talk to. If there was such a time that I would hope God would be here, it would be right now."

"You can talk to God at any time, but aside from that, you do have me, Denise, as well as your family," Andrew said gently. "The reason that the Father was here for the time that He has been is because He wanted you to know that He is always listening to you. I want to be here for you, and I know that it is really hard for you to deal with me being what I am, but I do want to be your friend, and I do want to help."

She looked at the angel, her eyes filled with sadness. "You must think that I'm the biggest flop you have ever had to deal with."

"No, I don't, Denise, I just know that it is hard for you, you've lost a lot of people in your life, and sadly, I represent that to you. You know, for a long time I thought that I wasn't the right angel for you, that whatever I thought or said was not important, and it was through this feeling that I had that you had this wonderful possibility to experience something special, you met the Father, and you found an endearing friend in Him. In that happening, you have received one of the greatest blessings that a human being could be given, but remember, just because you can't see Him, doesn't mean that He is no longer present or that He no longer cares because I happen to know that He loves you very much, Denise."

The teenager looked down at the piece of paper with the message from the Father. "He really did care for me, huh?"

"There is no past tense in this, Denise, He cares for you, He loves you, He afforded you an experience so that you will always remember His love. Now there is no reason for you to ever believe that Pastor Stevens had spoken the truth. The Father made certain that you would always remember that His love is the most powerful thing that exists, that nothing you say, do, or think will change the empowering love that He holds for you."

She looked down at her lap. "It was nice…"

"…Oh, I believe you, it's like Laura's near death experience," Andrew said gently. "The Father brought you closer to heaven than most people have been. He made sure that you weren't afraid of Him anymore before He went Home, but in your heart, He will always reside, and when you see Him, you can show Him that. Through your strength and your beauty, you can show Him how much you learned over the course of time that He was here."

"Yeah," she mused, "but what was the point? It was easier to know that I was able to let go of Jo, but now she's gone, so what's the point?"

"The point was to end Jo's suffering, Denise. Jo was in so much pain, she dreamed of walking, of doing the things that she could not do here on Earth. She knew that the only way that she would find that peace she needed was for you to find the strength from within to let her go. The Father knew that this would be hard for you, that's why He made sure that you would have a friendship with Hope before He went Home."

"What happened to her?" Denise asked. "I heard something about her and her mom on the radio, but I don't understand what it was."

"Hope and her mother both found the courage to stand up and tell the truth and now, the media that has been surrounding the Christianson family for the past few weeks should lessen, and chances are, Hope will be able to testify during the trials of her aunt, uncle and grandmother, thus allowing herself to finally face and let go of the past," Andrew said softly. "This is a very significant step for her, but it is one that is very hard for both her and her mother to take."

"So what's really going to happen, Andrew?" She asked softly.

"I cannot say, I am not able to predict the future, but I can tell you that Hope and you have both grown a lot through all of this, and you and she will always be connected, if for no other reason but through the experience."

Denise nodded, but she began to feel the tears that were now streaming from beneath her unhappy eyes. All the while, she tried without success to wipe the moisture away. "Andrew, I know I should be happy for Jo, but…"

"You cannot be happy right now, my friend, you must first grieve that which you've lost and then once you do that, you can find the joy in your life again. No one, least of all me, would ever tell you that you should be happy right now. Let yourself cry, Denise, it will be through that that you find healing you need."

The teenager nodded, this time instead of trying to conceal her tears, she could feel his arms wrapping around her and she collapsed in the angel's arms and began to weep bitterly. As she wept, she could feel his hand brushing through her hair, all the while helping to bring forth the unending sadness that seemed to envelop her.

*****

The day of Jo's funeral arrived and Denise walked into the church, her eyes scanning the sanctuary. She had not seen Jennifer or Katie during the past three days since Jo had died, so her nervousness about this impending meeting was completely obvious. When she reached the front of the room, she looked at Jennifer, her eyes filled with sadness.

"Mrs. Peterson?" Denise spoke, behind her, Christina, Dawn, and Jeremy stood, but none of them said anything they only offered the unhappy woman compassionate, but weak smiles. Christina's emotions returned to Patrick, and so she felt a strong connection to the grieving family simply because it was less than five years ago that Patrick had died.

"Denise, thank you for coming," the woman said softly.

"I would have come sooner, but I didn't know what to say," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"No one ever does, sweetheart," Jennifer said gently. "I'm glad you're here now though, and Jo would be happy to know that too."

Denise nodded and offered Katie an unhappy smile before she went and found a place to sit down. Once she was seated, she glanced around and realized that the church was practically full and that the mourners were, for the most part, people she knew; most of them were from the community center, and the others were classmates from the school.

Laura and Sebastian were also present, but what surprised Denise the most was when she recognized Tess was seated at the organ and was playing soothing music.

Some minutes before the service was to begin, someone came from behind and rested their hand on Denise's shoulder, thus causing the teenager to turn around and looked up only to make eye contact with a pair of gentle brown eyes. "Monica?" She whispered.

"May I sit with you, Denise?" the angel asked, her voice soft.

The teenager nodded numbly as the angel sat down next to her. "Jo asked me to give this to you. She wrote it after you had introduced Hope to her, and she wanted to let you know what was in her heart. She knew from the start that this would be hard for you, and she wanted you to know that she admired your strength."

"I'm not strong," the girl whispered.

"Yes, you are," the angel said gently. "You see, strength is not always going to be measured in how much a person can hide what they feel, strength is sometimes discovered in the person who faces what it is they feel, and you did this."

"Only because God was here, Monica," she whispered.

"No, God is always present, Denise, just because He disappears in a physical sense, but not in a spiritual one. Tell me, was He present when you told Jo that you would be OK?"

"No, we were alone," she whispered.

"You see, Jo didn't know that the Father was here and that He was speaking to you, in fact, Christina didn't even know, nor did Laura, or Sebastian, until after He had left. So rest assured that Jo's words are completely sincere, and they are the truth, the words that she wanted to share with you. It is not only her hopes for you, but she wanted to give you a memory of her that would make you smile every time you recalled the time you two had. This is what she wanted you to know."

Denise looked down at the envelope. Across the front was her name.

She pulled out the two pages and looked down at Jo's familiar handwriting.

Dear Denise,

By the time you receive this letter, you will know that I have gone Home, that Andrew has fulfilled his promise and that I am happy. There are a lot of things I want to tell you, but now everything seems so silly, me talking to you through this letter while I'm partying with God in Heaven.

First of all, let's get the obvious stuff out of the way. You promised me that you and Hope would be taking care of the awareness group, and I will hold you to that, not only because it would be really nice for you to keep at it, but also because I know that it is as much your work as it was mine. You knew from the start that whenever people would make a big deal about me being in a wheelchair, that this drove me nuts, but the truth is, they listened to you more because you weren't in a wheelchair. Your words held the power that this group needed and will need. Don't ever believe that you were not able to keep their attention or make them aware, because you were, just in a different way than me and in a way that would leave the biggest impact. I was the girl in the wheelchair who was following her conscious, you were the conscience of the group, thus after awhile, you took it where it needed to go. Don't ever feel badly about this, because in order for it to survive, that was what needed to happen.

We have been friends since we were nine-years-old, and one of my most vivid memories of us was when we were using finger paints to make pictures of angels. It was during the time that you and Dawn were at the Stevens' place, and for some reason, I knew that angels had come to help you all out of this situation you were in. I can't really explain why it is, but I always knew that they led you, Dawn and Patrick to the Lowery family, simply because they were probably the closest thing to angels that I have ever seen in humanity. At the same time, I knew that it had to be, because you belonged with each other simply because there was something very special about you. I never told you about that, but even as a little girl, I knew that I wanted to be your friend from that moment on because somewhere deep inside of me, you represented the dying faith that I was desperately trying to grasp hold of. My mother later defined it when she told me about my grandfather.

I had felt this way for a long time, but then when we were at your house and Andrew and I spoke outside after he had recovered from his amnesia, I understood that I was scared to die. I wanted faith, but I was so afraid that my mother may have been right and that faith was something that I did not deserve to have. I can't even explain it here, because I don't understand it very much about it. Maybe one day, I will. I only knew that at that time, I couldn't even believe that angels would want to be with me. My mom was not happy, she knew I was sick, and I guess she believed that if she kept me away from Andrew, then maybe she would be able to hold onto me. I saw Andrew after I had collapsed at the community center and he even accompanied me to the hospital. I hadn't seen him in years, but he had appeared there and told me what I was most frightened to hear, that I was dying, and it would happen very soon.

I cannot really tell you what happened, but I can tell you that when he puts on that light show, he's absolutely the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. I knew that he was an angel, but if there were ever any doubts about that, they died when I saw him bathed in God's radiant love. He took my hand and held it, and he said that I would be meeting God, not in the way that you would, but in a very special way that would be mine and mine alone.

Yes, I knew that Mr. Gottlieb was the Father in human form, something deep inside of me knew, but it was something that I could never tell anyone because they would have thought I was crazy. Today, it doesn't matter anymore, they can believe whatever they want. Mr. Gottlieb was God, He was with you to help you help me, and you did. Thank you, Denise, I know what you did was hard, I envy your courage, and although our time together was brief, it was the greatest blessing I could have ever hoped for.

One day we'll meet again, Andrew has said as much, and if you need to talk to someone after this, let him be your friend, he wants to, you know.

Love,

Jo

As she lowered the note, Denise could feel the tears in her eyes, but before she could say something to the angel seated next to her, she realized that Monica was gone. A few moments passed and when she looked up, her eyes locked with Tess' and when the angel smiled gently at her, Denise returned the gesture as the minister stepped up and began to speak.

*****

When the service was over, Denise numbly got to her feet all the while seeing the people filtering out of the church. Christina and Jeremy got to their feet and Christina went over to her daughter.

"You OK?" She asked softly.

Denise nodded. "I feel numb, Mom, as though there's a part of me that died with her. I can't explain it, but I feel so lost. I haven't felt this way since Patrick…"

"…I know, Jo was your best friend, she was a part of you, because she was that family that you chose. It's like with Lindsey and me. Nothing will ever change that, sweetheart," Christina said softly as she brushed a gentle hand through the teenager's hair.

"Mom, can I tell you a secret?" Denise asked.

"You know you can tell me anything," Christina said softly.

"No, I mean this secret is like the biggest secret I have ever held in my entire life. Did you know that I actually have a date for the prom?" She asked. "It's weird to say that here, while looking around at the flowers and thinking that Jo's gone."

"I know, Denise," Christina said gently. "But don't you think that Jo would want you to move on, to find new interests, like that handsome young man who helped me get away from Louise Christianson. You said His name was Al."

Denise sighed deeply, for some reason she just couldn't bring herself to mention anything else about him, instead, she looked at Christina. "Do you remember Mr. Gottlieb?"

"Yes, I do, a pity He's not with us now, He's such a special friend," she whispered.

"You know that Mr. Gottlieb was God, don't you?" Denise asked as she handed the note to her mother. "He was God, Mom, and He came to see me. I kept asking myself why? Why would God waste His valuable time with me? Why would He show up and save my life?"

"Because He loves you in a way that no one else can even come close to," Christina said gently.

"I miss Him, and…Andrew said He was gone," she sank to her knees and began to weep bitterly. "I need Him."

"I know, honey, we all do, all of us," Christina said softly.

Denise looked up and when she could see her mother's kind face, she extended the letter to Christina. "T-this letter is from Jo, and she knew, but I don't even remember her having met Him."

"She did meet Him, baby," Tess approached them and the teenager looked up at the angel. "She met him a few weeks before she died, and her spirit knew Him, her soul knew that she was the presence of Greatness."

"She did?" Denise looked up at the angel.

"Yes, baby, she did, it was the day that she told you the truth. She had been battling with herself about this for weeks, and after she had collapsed at the community center, she knew the truth, because Andrew had told her. Yet, on that day, she arrived at the community center and was contemplating what would happen if she were to tell you the truth. After talking to Him, she made the choice to speak to you," the angel explained gently. "Later she saw you talking to Him at the school and she knew deep inside what was happening, God had come to see you so that you could let go."

"Yeah, and now H-He's gone," Denise whispered.

"No baby, the Father is with you, always, He wouldn't leave you to face all these things alone, and I promise you will see Him again," Tess said gently.

Denise nodded numbly, but she looked from Christina to Tess and shrugged her shoulders. "Can I be alone for a minute?" she asked weakly.

Christina watched as Denise walked slowly up the aisle towards the door leading outside. She looked at Tess. "What is happening to her?"

"She's grieving, Christina, and it will take some time for her to really get herself through that grief," the angel responded gently.

"What can I do?" She asked. "The Father's absence is leaving its toll on her."

Tess looked at her. "The Father is never really absent from someone's life, Christina, He just isn't physically here. Denise needs to learn that although He may not always be here, He is as long as she listens to her heart."

"Excuse me for saying so, but that's a very hard lesson to learn especially when the one learning it has just lost her best friend in the world," Christina said with obvious frustration in her voice. "I don't want to be rude to you, Tess, but Denise isn't the only one here who is frightened, and God knows that I love her, but the pain she carries is almost too much for even me to understand, much less watch. It's like she's fading away, becoming more distant, more withdrawn." She shook her head sadly. "I know that the Father knows what is best, but right now, I am having a very hard time trying to understand all of this, trying to grasp why all of these things are even happening."

The angel nodded. "I do understand." As she looked around the sanctuary, she motioned towards someone who was standing in the doorway of the church. "You have something in common with him then," Tess watched as Christina glanced towards the door leading outside. There she saw a boy who couldn't have been much older than Denise, his green eyes scanning the sanctuary and when they came to rest on them, he came closer, his head suddenly lowering and his hands now in his pockets when he reached them.

"Can we help you?" Tess asked softly.

The young man nodded. "I hope so," he whispered, eventually looking up, his green eyes seeking those of Christina. "Mrs. Lowery?"

Christina looked at him. "Do I know you?"

"Not directly, no, but I've heard about you on the news about what happened with the Christianson family and how you helped them, I was…well, I was hoping that you could help me," he whispered, his voice filled with sadness.

"I'm sorry, but they misunderstood. You see, I didn't do anything, that was my daughter, Denise, and her friend, Al," she said softly.

"Denise?" He asked softly.

"Yes, she does a lot of volunteer work at the community center here in town. She volunteers her time and tries to help kids who have been abused."

The young man nodded. "I know about her, you see, my brother has this video tape of her and Jo Peterson's interview, and I saw it last night…and through it, I remembered something Denise said, something that made me want to come here and talk to her."

"You remembered something she said?" Christina asked.

"She talked about how abused kids sometimes run away, how they often get into trouble, and do things they shouldn't, some end up behind bars, some, like me, end up joining gangs and getting into trouble with the law," he said softly. "When I saw that, I not only remembered having seen Denise before, but I also realized that I had to tell something important..."

"Why would you tell me this?" Christina asked.

"My name is John Travers, and I…I was a member of the Eastside gang, I was there when Denise was assaulted, and I did nothing to help her," he said softly. "You see, I was one of the boys who assaulted her at the Eastside Fairgrounds. I went to the police this morning and told them what really happened, how I had just watched while the others hurt her. I didn't know what was happening to me, I only realized later, that the reason that I did nothing was because…" his voice trailed off and he tried without any success at looking at Christina. "…Because I was trying to figure out where I had seen her before. I mean; I know that she didn't do anything wrong, she had only been innocently hanging around that place…" As his voice trailed off, he stared down at his feet, his eyes filled with shame.

"You might as well have assaulted my daughter then," Christina looked at him, her eyes filled with bitterness. "You actually have the nerve to come here during a funeral, how dare you?"

Tess looked at the young man. "You were a member of the gang? You're not anymore?"

"No, ma'am, I'm not," John shook his head. "When I was fourteen, I ran away from home. You may not understand how things were for me, and I am not looking for compassion or pity, but the truth is, my dad beat me and my brother black and blue, just for the hell of it. He drank a lot, and sometimes would get his hands on drugs, and they made his already bad temperament even worse. It had been this way since our mother died. She was such a good person, she could somehow make him show that side of himself that was caring and loving. When she died, there was no one who could, so he would beat us senseless and I still have a lot of the scars from it, the only thing I knew was pain, the only words, hateful and cruel. Now, I stand in a church sanctuary and I don't even know or believe that God exists, and if He does, then He would have turned away from me a long time ago."

Christina looked at him. "Why are you here?" She asked softly, all the while being taken by the young man's words.

"After I saw the interview on TV, I thought maybe I could come here and make peace with Denise, a-ask her to forgive me for what I didn't do," he looked at Christina, his eyes filling with tears. "I can tell that you don't believe me, but everything I said is the truth. I am not this horrible person you may think me to be, I…"

"You want to ask her for forgiveness after allowing her to nearly be raped by your friends?" Christina looked at Tess. "I don't believe this, I can't believe what I'm hearing. You're a maniac; you should be off the streets and behind bars. You go and assault a poor, innocent, young girl, and then you show up in a church, asking her mother for forgiveness, but are too much of a coward to tell her face to face what it is you have done."

John's head lowered and he sat down on one of the pews, his head lowered, the tears falling from his unhappy green eyes. Seconds passed and he suddenly felt someone's arms around him. He looked up and into a matching pair of compassionate green eyes. "Andrew…" he whispered as the angel wrapped him in his arms.

"You know him?" Christina asked looking at the angel.

"Yes, I do, and there's a reason that he is here, there's a reason for everything that has happened," Andrew responded as Tess patted Christina's shoulder gently, her presence leaving a calming affect on the woman.

"A plan?" Christina looked at the angel. "Tess, twenty minutes ago, I would be willing to listen, but do you know what happened after Denise was assaulted. I started remembering Steve, and what happened. Now the prom is coming up for my daughters, and…" her voice trailed off for a moment as she took a deep breath and tried to get her emotions under control. "Every time I turn around, the rape comes back to haunt me. Every step I take, I see his face in my mind. It is no secret, I have had more than my share of nightmares since this event, but right after Denise was assaulted, I had nightmares for over a week. The actions of this gang didn't just affect Denise, but it affected me as well, and I pushed my daughter away because of it."

"I-I don't understand," John whispered as he looked at Andrew. The angel simply shook his head.

"You don't need to understand it," Christina snapped. "Just get out of my sight, leave me and my family in peace."

"You'll never have peace, Christina, not without forgiveness," Tess said. "Do you remember what happened with Kevin Miller?"

Christina nodded as she looked at the boy, her eyes filled with hate and bitterness. "OK, it will be her choice to talk to you, but I don't want see you again."

John nodded. "Thank you," he whispered but watched as Christina left the sanctuary, Tess followed her. He looked at Andrew once the two of them had disappeared outside. "Andrew, what should I do now?"

"You've already done some of what you needed to do, you faced the truth and that is a very hard thing to do. You will have to talk to Denise and then you will find peace," the angel said softly.

"I don't know how, I mean; I hurt her," he said softly. "Can I tell you what happened that day? What I saw?"

"Of course you can, you have always talked to me when you were sad or confused. You remember the first day we met and how you had been so frightened that your father would find you. It would be during that time when he would take that metal bar and hit you with it. I remember that night after he did and how you had been taken to the emergency room, your father stood there and said that you had fallen down the stairs, but he didn't add that he had pushed you," the angel put a gentle hand on John's shoulder.

"I deserved it," John whispered.

"No, you didn't, you grew into a young man believing that the only family that existed was that of conditions and proving yourself, and this is how gangs find their strength, it is always in numbers, but people who are free thinkers would never find themselves in them, they would just avoid them. Yet, you were hurting, so you found a group that would accept you, but that made you angry at the world and you became obsessed with this idea that the only way to protect yourself was to fight. A small part of you couldn’t do that, though, and you were affected by the courage of young woman named Denise."

John nodded his voice cracking. "Yeah."

"By me?" Denise's voice emerged and they both turned around. When she saw John, she backed away. "W-wait, I know you…"

"Please," John stood up. "Denise…" his voice trailed off as she continued to back away from them. "Please, I need to talk to you."

Andrew stood up as well, but he slowly approached her. "Denise, I promise you, you're safe, I won't let anything happen to you, but you might give John a chance to explain to you what he has already explained to me."

"N-no," her voice trailed off and she shook her head.

The young man took a deep breath as he began to speak. "Please, I know that I hurt you, and probably in such a horrible way that you could never forgive me, but Denise, I wouldn't be here if Andrew hadn't have found me late last night. I was contemplating suicide."

Denise looked at him. "You were going to kill yourself?"

He nodded. "Ever since what happened at the fairgrounds, I kept seeing this guy. It was the same guy who found you after the others ran off. I had wanted to stay, but I was scared of what would happen. I know I'm a coward, you don't have to tell me that, but when you were attacked, this man just appeared from nothing, and I thought that He was an angel or something, that He was like Andrew."

"You know Andrew's an angel?" Denise asked.

"Yeah, he showed up countless times to be with me when my dad was freaking out about something. See, my family was perfect when I was really little, but when I was eight-years-old, my mother was hit by a car. She had run out into the street to push me out of the way. She died instantly; the guy was driving too fast. My dad loved her, but he blamed me for what happened, he blamed me for her being killed. So whenever he would get drunk or high, he would beat the crap out of me. My childhood was hell, but every time I was beaten, Andrew would show up, and for the longest time, he was my imaginary friend, my angel. He would talk to me, and he would tell me about heaven and that my mom was there, and that she was happy."

Denise could feel the tears in her eyes. "I know the feeling, my mom died when I was nine." She stared down at her lap, but then looked up. "What happened next?"

He looked at her as the two of them sat down. "Well, my brother, Chris, moved out, but after that, life got even worse and finally, when I was fourteen, I ran away. That was about six years ago, but somehow I ended up here, and met up with this street gang, and thinking I had no other options, I joined." He shook his head. "I would get in and out of riffs with the law, but then one day, I was hanging around the fairgrounds with the others, and we saw you." He looked down at his lap. "I couldn't do anything when those guys hurt you, but I remembered seeing that man just appear from out of nowhere, and He's looking at you, His eyes filled with so much love that I couldn't even imagine that any of that love could be directed at me. I suppose at that moment, I realized just how much I hated myself, how disgusting and horrible I was. I look at you, and I understood for the first time in my life that if I could be loved in the way that that man obviously loved you, I would give my life to know it." As he finished, the tears began to stream from beneath his eyes and he began to cry bitterly.

Denise sat staring at him, her eyes filled with disbelief, but her eyes so filled with shock that she didn't know what to say. John had seen the Father, he had seen Him when He had come and saved her life. He had seen how loved she was, and acknowledged it for what it was. She reached over and touched his trembling shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her two simple words causing him to look up, the surprise evident in his desolate green eyes.

"You're thanking me, but why? I only hurt you," John managed as he tried without success at wiping the tears from his eyes, the moisture smearing across his cheek.

"John, do you believe in God?" Denise asked. "I mean; I know that you believe in angels, but do you believe that God exists and that He sends angels to help us?"

"I-I don't know, Denise," he managed to speak, his voice cracking.

"Andrew, can I tell him the truth, would God want me to?" She asked.

The angel nodded. "Go ahead and tell him Denise."

"The man you saw was God, John. He came here because I thought I was so unimportant and unloved," she began to cry herself, the tears tumbling down over her face. "God was there that day, and maybe He made you think about what you were doing, and about how you were behaving. John, He was there…"

"God?" John whispered. "That was no angel?"

"No," Andrew said softly. "Most times, the Father will send an angel to protect and take care of one of His children, but sometimes God will come Himself and through His presence, He will show His children the way back Home."

"He loved you so much that He came to help you," John whispered.

"He helped you too, John," Andrew said softly. "After this experience, what happened?"

"I went to the community center, and I talked to Laura Jensen," he said softly.

"You told her about the man you saw, and what did she tell you?" Andrew asked gently.

"She said that God sometimes moves in very strange and wonderful ways," he said softly. "She introduced me to her husband, Sebastian who told me that he lived on the streets for a number of years until he met someone who changed his life. He said that that someone was Laura." John took a deep breath. "Denise, after everything that happened, I saw this interview with you and Jo, but I wasn't paying much attention to her. I must admit; I was paying attention to you. When I saw you out at the fairgrounds, I knew that there was something very familiar about you, but I didn't know what it was until last night. When I saw that interview again, it all came back to me. I remember how I was looking at you and then I was able to recall everything that had happened." He took a deep breath before he could continue speaking. "This morning, the first thing I did was I filed a report with the police about what happened to you, and they're out rounding up the gang, finding the ones who are responsible."

"Just because of me?" She asked. "You turned on your friends because you saw me on TV?"

John nodded. "Yes, but not just because of some stupid thing I did, but because you taught me so much, and yet you didn't even know me. I thought I had lost everything, but you came along and gave it back to me. You showed me through your dedication and caring that I was worth something. I would be willing to bet that every abuse victim who sees you will be reminded of that." Moments passed and he stood up with the intention of leaving.

"John, if you want to stay, and if you want to take part in a group that will care, then you should," she said softly. "I forgive you."

"You do?" He whispered, his voice cracking.

"Yes," came her calm, but soft response.

The young man looked at Andrew and before Denise could say anything else, he sat back down on the wooden pew and looked down at his hands. "I don't know how you can, I mean; I'm grateful that you do…"

Denise shrugged her shoulders but after a few moments, she got to her feet and slowly left the sanctuary. Once she was gone, John looked at Andrew. "You were right."

"She's a very caring girl, John, and she knows that even though you made some mistakes, forgiveness is the best thing she can do. It frees the soul, makes things better."

"That man was God?" John looked at the angel still unsure if he was really ready or wanted to believe it.

"Yes," Andrew said softly. "It is very evident that God wanted you to get something out of the events that took place, because you were able to see Him show up there, but the truth is, God really does love you. He came here to help Denise find the courage she needed, but He was also there for you, to remind you that you are a very special person. Through His support, you found the courage to get rid of the influence that gang had in your life."

John nodded, his eyes downcast. "She forgave me, Andrew. I didn't think I was worth anything, much less Denise's forgiveness."

"You are," Andrew affirmed gently as he patted the young man's shoulder. "You are."

*****

Three nights later, Laura stood in her apartment, she was alone, but for the past week she had tried without much success to figure out who the youth was that had come into the center with Denise. Her thoughts seemed to be abuzz with questions, all the while she remembered how her mother had told her about something rather extraordinary happening. It was the night that she and Sebastian had brought a bucket of chicken. Her mother had sat down and spoken, and even though Christina was being honest, Laura had this uneasy sensation that she was holding something back.

Sighing deeply, she turned around and went over to the sofa to sit down. Sebastian was working late at the center, on this particular day; he had night classes and always came home late. She looked over at the television, it was off, but she didn't much care to go and turn it on. Instead, she looked down at the folders that were on the coffee table, and after a few minutes, she shoved them aside and rubbed her forehead. "What a day," she muttered as she retrieved a bottle of aspirin. She glanced back at the files as she swallowed a tablet with a glass of water.

Some moments later, she could see the mail on the coffee table and she went over to the stack of envelopes. Sebastian must have put these letters on the table when he came home for lunch, she thought as she began to go through them. After a few moments, she reached the bottom of the stack her eyes widening when she saw it. On the front was Jo Peterson's legible and flowing handwriting.

"What's this?" She mused as she opened the envelope and began to read the letter. As she read what Jo had painstakingly wrote to her, the color suddenly faded from her cheeks when she reached the part where Jo had described the man she had seen at the community center the day she had told Denise that she was dying. She stared down at the writing…

I knew that the man who called himself 'Mr. Gottlieb' was the Father in human form, something deep inside of me knew, but it was something that I could never tell anyone because they would have thought I was crazy. But, I asked Sebastian about the name and he confirmed it by telling me that Gottlieb translated back into English means 'God' and 'Love'.

I realized how special this was to me, to know that God would come here and He would share with me a truth that I needed to know. It was through Him that I found the courage to tell Denise the truth, and it helped me find a great deal of peace.

"The Father, He was here?" Laura asked the stillness, all the while trying to figure out how this was even possible. She stared down at the letter. It had been mailed some three days ago, and she guessed that Jo's mother must have found it in her room, and had dropped it into a mailbox. Laura's thoughts immediately turned to her near death experience. She had told Denise about it, and she had also mentioned it to Jo. She wanted to lessen the girl's fears about dying, and knew that her experience would be extremely beneficial.

As she remembered this event in her life, she remembered how she had confided this to Andrew. The angel had been more than understanding about it, but the more she sank into her contemplations the more confused she became. She had met God, but that was so long ago, and the time that had passed seemed almost too distant to be real. Sighing deeply, she sank into her contemplations.

Laura's Flashback

Andrew tapped lightly on her bedroom door and stuck his head in the room, his gentle smile seeming to light up the entire room. "You awake, little one?"

"Yeah," Laura sat up in bed, her hands holding tightly to the white teddy bear he had given to her about two months before Christina and Jeremy had gotten married.

"How do you feel today?" He asked.

"OK, my back hurts a little," she said softly. "I feel like I'm over 100."

"You've made great strides these past few weeks so I think you're exaggerating a little," he said gently.

"OK, 80," she giggled.

"You have learned from Jeremy a great deal, it seems," Andrew said as he sat down on the bed next to her.

"You're really leaving tonight, huh?" Laura asked.

"I'm afraid so, but Olivia will take care of you and she's a very kind person," Andrew said softly. "I know you'll be in very good hands."

"I'm sad that you're leaving Andrew," she said softly.

"I know," he said. "But, do you know what?"

"What?"

"No matter where I go, or what I do, that little bear will always be here with you and he will remind you of those times we've spent together," he said. "That's why I gave him to you four years ago."

"I love you, Andrew," Laura said softly. "I also know what kind of angel you are, and I want you to know that I'm not afraid of you."

"Adam told you?"

"Yeah," Laura looked at him and nodded. "But, I'm not scared anymore."

Andrew smiled gently at the little girl. "You're very special to me, Laura, and that means so much to me. You have a very special family, a very loving one, and I can understand why you wanted to come home to them."

"They prayed for us, you know? It was that day when I was really sick," Laura said softly. "I saw them seated at the table at Grandma and Grandpa's. Tess was there, too and everyone took each other's hand, and Grandpa prayed asking God to take care of me and then he said that God should take care of you, too because you were so sad about what had happened to Daddy and me."

"How do you know about this?" Andrew asked softly.

"I saw it," Laura said confidently.

"You did?" Andrew asked and in the back of his mind, he knew that somehow, this innocent and beautiful little girl was speaking the truth.

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone, cause it might be weird for them," Laura said. "Adam said that I sort of died, but then I saw heaven and it was really pretty, and filled with light. I also saw you and Mommy crying in the chapel and told Adam that I didn't want you to be sad because of me. He said I'd have to fight to live, so I did." The little girl looked at him and when she saw disbelief on his handsome face, her expression grew sad. "You believe me, don't you, Andrew?"

"Yes, I do," he smiled and looked around the room. "When you saw me crying, do you remember what I said?"

"Yeah, you said, 'it's so hard, Father' and you cried in Mommy's arms," Laura said softly. "I guess you were speaking to God, but I don't remember anything else because then I saw a valley filled with wildflowers, and Adam was standing next to me."

"You were in the chapel," Andrew nodded as understanding enveloped him.

Laura looked at him. "Yeah, that's what I just told you."

Andrew smiled and hugged the little girl. "You didn't want to see your mommy or me sad, did you?"

Laura shook her head, "I don't like to see people I love sad."

Andrew smiled gently at the small child and took her hand in his. "Whatever happened that night, you fought to live, and that's a gift from God."

"You are a gift too," Laura said and hugged him. When she felt his hand brushing against her cheek, she realized how tired she was and eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

As he was standing up and was about to leave her room, he leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. The little girl carried a smile on her face as he straightened out and walked slowly towards the door leading out into the hallway.

In the doorway, he glanced over towards the windowsill and could see a white dove looking inside the room and he smiled.

Laura's Flashback End

That seemed all so long ago, Laura thought. "I met God," she whispered under her breath. "Not just when I died…" She shook her head, the thoughts literally raking havoc on her. She stared down at the letter as she began to pray, her words filled with the sentiments of confusion that she carried in the deepest recesses of her heart. "Oh Father please help me figure this out."

"But you already have," Adam's voice emerged and she looked up to see her longtime friend standing in the room. "All you have to do is let go of the doubt that says that you could not have experienced what you, in fact, did."

"Adam, what do you mean? What did I figure out? All I knew was that today I received this letter and I believe it was either sent just before, or sometime after, Jo died. I have a headache that won't quit, and I'm confused," Laura whispered. "Can't you help me?"

The angel shook his head. "I can't help, but I can talk you through this, that's why I'm here."

Laura nodded. "OK, then let's talk because right now I am not sure what I believe anymore. Jo said in the letter that God was here in town."

"The Father is always present, Laura…" Adam began.

"No, that's not what I meant, Adam, I am talking about in a physical sense, like you are sitting here and talking to me. I could reach over and touch you and know you are here," she said softly as she remembered the events that had taken place at her parent's home the night Andrew had arrived. "Adam, can I tell you something without you thinking that I am totally freaking out?"

"You know you can," the angel said softly. "I would never judge you, I thought you knew that."

Laura nodded. "I know, but the night that Sebastian and I went to see my mom and dad, something very strange happened. We had gone outside to sit on the terrace, and we were talking about stuff. Mostly about this boy Mom counseled back when, and how Melanie Christianson's case reminded her of this event. Anyway, while we were talking, I glanced towards the hedge and I saw someone standing there. It was a man, and he would just stare at us. Then a few days later, I saw someone else who…"

"Let me guess, you saw him again?" Adam asked.

"I don't know, I mean; when I saw this guy at the community center, I knew I had seen him before, but I didn't know where, and then…I got this letter, and I remembered the name when the man and I had been introduced. Oh Adam, everything seems too good to be true, but this letter is so persuasive."

"May I read it?" He asked softly.

Laura nodded and Adam accepted the piece of paper from her and began to read. As he finished the letter, he looked at her. "It was the Father, the man that was at the community center was God."

"Yeah, so it seems, that much I know, but then I met this friend of Denise's there a few days before Jo died, and he said things that seemed almost too uncanny. I mean; he would make statements about things and it was as though he was looking at the world from the outside in. I got that same sense from Mr. Gottlieb during the short time that I saw him. But, then…"

"You think that the man that you saw at your parents' home was the same person?" Adam asked.

"Well, he disappeared into thin air, so maybe, but this doesn't really make me understand," Laura said softly. "I want to believe that God is here, I mean physically here, but that seems like a wish of a teenager and I'm not a kid anymore. I'm 24, I'm happily married…"

"…You're confused," Adam said softly. "You wonder if there is a chance that God is present, you wonder why you didn't recognize Him when you saw Him."

Laura nodded. "Yes, I mean; you remember what happened to me and how I saw Him as a little girl. I thought that I would always know Him or recognize Him."

"How could I forget?" The angel smiled. "I was there."

"I know you were, but…" Laura whispered. "Why would God come back here and not tell me who He is? It makes me wonder if I'm important enough to really know the truth?"

"Oh you are, don't ever doubt that," Adam said softly. "Perhaps, He wants to give you the gift of figuring this out for yourself. Sometimes the greatest treasure in the world is being able to discover that you are smart and can figure this all out."

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you, Adam?" She asked.

The angel shook his head. "I know that you're smart, and that you will figure this entire thing out, and once you do, then you'll be really amazed at how easy it has been." With that he disappeared and Laura was left staring at where the angel had been sitting during the course of their conversation. She picked up the letter and stared down at Jo's neat handwriting.

"What I do know, Mr. Gottlieb is the man who was at the community center," Laura mused as she grabbed a pencil and began to scribble down the information she knew. "My German is good enough that I do know that Gottlieb is 'God' and 'Love', thus I may be able to loosely conclude that that was God in human form. Now in the wake of all of this, Denise found the courage to come back to the center, but she came with a boy she introduced me to named Al. Could God have had His hand in all of this? Could He have changed human form and is posing as a teenage boy?" She continued to write her thoughts down on a small piece of paper, her thoughts literally racing at ninety miles a minute. Sighing deeply, she glanced up at a poster that was hanging in a frame just above the television set.

With God, all things are possible.

She looked down at the piece of paper. "Al could be short for Alpha," she mused. "Mr. Gottlieb was the Father, that much I know, and I think that that boy was the Father in another form, that would explain what He said to me at the center about me figuring this out without an angel's influence. Well, at least now I know why Denise came back to the center." As the realization dawned on her what had happened, she shook her head in profound disbelief. "If I didn't know better, I'd run into the street screaming."

"Why is that?" A strange voice emerged and she looked up to see that the boy she had met with Denise was now in the room.

"Father?" She whispered.

"You're very smart, you figured Me out," He said and was smiling down at her, the pieces of paper that she had strewn across the coffee table now falling to the floor as she stood up. "No, please stay seated, I'll come to you," He said smiling. "It's nice to see you again, Laura."

"This is amazing," she whispered, her eyes on the poster.

"As soon as you learned to let go of the limitations, you figured out what was happening, and why I was here," He said as He took the form of the teacher that she had seen at the center.

"You confused me," she whispered.

"I know, but you figured it out. You remember the night you saw Me at your mother's house? I was listening to both of you when you looked up and saw Me. Christina didn't see me at that moment because she was consumed with her own problems."

"Yeah, I remember, but why didn't You say something to me? I mean; it would have made things a lot easier," she said softly.

"You weren't ready then," He smiled gently at her.

"I don't get it, if I was ready when I was 12, then why wouldn't I be ready now?" She asked softly. "I'm trying to understand this as best I can, but there are so many questions."

The Father smiled. "The answer to that question is rather easy, you, as a child could see fewer limitations to Me than you can today. Today, everything is either black or white, because one thing that people lose when they become adults is they forget the wonders that are around them. They forget that with Me, they can experience so much more than what is defined as being one truth or another. Denise had to learn this, that was why I spent so much time with her and for that reason, she will see me again before I go back Home."

"Once more?" She asked. "You don't mean…"

"No, that's not what I mean, I meant that Denise will see Me here, then I will go Home, but I Am always with you, Laura," He said gently. "You miss that feeling from your childhood."

"Yes, I do, I remember so much that happened, and how wonderful I felt. Then when I was sent back here, I didn't want to come, I wanted to stay. I felt rejected by You, and I never really could express that," she whispered. "Not even when I would talk about it to Adam or Andrew."

"I know you did, but it was never the case, Laura," He smiled gently at her. "Now that you know the truth, it is time for Me to go, but I want you to know that I love you very much, and that when the time comes for you to come Home, then I will be waiting for you." He smiled gently. "You have a task at hand, My child, and that will be to raise a daughter of your own, and that is but one task that stands before you."

"You mean; I'm pregnant?" She asked weakly.

He smiled and offered a slight nod before disappearing. Laura, as if by impulse rested her hand over her abdomen. Thank You, Father, the thoughts filtered through her mind as she felt joy for the first time in weeks. Now she understood what Adam had meant about how she would feel when she would figure out what was happening. She did feel wonderfully about having put all the pieces together. For the first time in her life, she didn't have someone spoon-feed the results to her, but instead she found them by her own determination.

After a few moments of silence passed, she reached for the phone, and dialed her parents' number. When Christina's familiar voice emerged across the line, she spoke. "Mom, I just got the news I had been waiting for…You're going to be a grandmother."

*****

The following days, life started to get back to normal for Denise. She grew accustomed to not having Al around, but she had started to become closer friends with Geoff, one of the boys from the choir. Before meeting Mr. Gottlieb, Denise had been more or less a loner in the group, but now she was getting over her shyness with the various kids in the group. Geoff had proven to be a really nice boy; he was also a senior and was somewhat shy.

As the after school rehearsal let out one afternoon, Denise was putting her folder into the slot and Geoff came over to her. "Hey Denise," he offered smiling weakly.

"Hi Geoff, what's going on?" She asked.

"I was just thinking about something," the boy offered. "I sort of wanted to get your take on it before I actually went and made a complete idiot of myself."

"What about?" She eventually asked as she saw the discomfort on the face of the boy.

"Well, I was wondering if Hope…" he began, his voice trailing off. "I mean; I really like her, and I know she's a friend of yours, and well…"

Denise felt for a moment a twinge of envy as she thought about how it always seemed to be with guys, they only talked to her about her friends. This sort of thing had happened with Jo, but now it seemed to be happening with Hope. "Maybe you should be talking to her, Geoff. She's a nice girl, and I'm tired of being everyone else's secretary. Please excuse me."

"I didn't mean it like that," the boy looked stricken.

"I know, but if you want to ask Hope out, don't ask me about it, go and ask her," Denise said softly. "I can't foresee what she'll say any better than you, but if you at least ask her, then you stand a better chance of getting the answer you want than coming to me."

Geoff nodded. "You're right, thanks Denise," he offered as he ambled away.

Denise shrugged her shoulders once the boy had walked away. "Not always easy to be the friend of the popular girl is it?" A voice emerged and she turned around and was face to face with her choir teacher.

"I guess not," she offered. "Mr. Travers, I'm really not in the mood to figure this all out right now."

"I understand," he said smiling. "I did want to thank you for all the work you did while I was gone. Mr. Gottlieb came by the day I got released from the hospital and told me that you had been a big help."

"I don't know about that," she mused, but looked at the director, his wide blue eyes regarding her. "You said once that you weren't one of the popular kids in school, right?"

"No, I was actually a lot like Geoff, didn't have the incentive that God gave a goose and I really think that if I had someone like you around to give me the incentive to tell one of the girls how I felt, then things would have been a lot different than they were." The teacher smiled. "You know, Denise, sometimes popularity isn't what it is cracked up to be."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"When I went back to my twenty year class reunion, it struck me how the kids who were once popular and loved were now going through something similar to a mid life crisis. They had been hung up on choir or band and then they suddenly stepped into the real world and no one cared how much popularity they had in high school. A future boss or a university financial aid advisor isn't going to care how many times you sang in All-State, or what kind of grades you had in high school mathematics. They will care about what you did, your giving of your time to help abused kids. They're going to see something in you that is dynamic and strong, and that will outlast these trivial things like popularity."

Denise smiled weakly. "You sound sometimes like my friend Andrew."

"Andrew hmm, what grade is he in?" Mr. Travers asked.

"Oh, he's a grown up, he's actually a friend of my family, I've known him since I was little, and really learned a lot from him," Denise said smiling as she spoke of the angel.

"Sounds like a good guy," the teacher mused. "Listen Denise, if you forget everything I ever showed you in the four years that we have known each other, remember, graduation isn't going to be the end of anything, and just because you may be pondering whether or not you had a boyfriend in high school, just remember that you have a chance to really make a difference."

She smiled weakly. "Thank you, Mr. Travers."

"Can I tell you a little story?" He asked softly.

"OK," she whispered.

"I have a little brother, Denise, and he came to live with me about half a year ago. He's some 15 or 16 years younger than me, he's also a few years older than you now, but he really went through some messy situations, and got mixed up with a gang. This all happened because he was physically abused. After he ran away, I went to more hell on earth to get him off the streets, and ironically, though one would think he was into drugs, he wasn't. Today, he's away from the gang, and he's working on getting his GED, and is doing well. He has you and Jo to thank for that, so I do know that you may not be a popular girl here in school, you have impacted people's lives, and have made a difference to them."

Denise nodded weakly as the door opened and as if on cue, someone entered, and she looked up and when her eyes met those of John Travers, she swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. "H-he's your brother?" She asked softly.

"You know each other?" The teacher asked softly.

John nodded. "Hi Denise," the young man spoke, and he looked at his brother. "Denise and I spoke at the church after Jo's funeral."

The teacher looked at the two of them. He could see that Denise looked suddenly ill at ease, and without another word, she left the room. John was left staring after her, and for a split second he started to go after her.

"No, don't," the elder of the brothers spoke. "If you go after her, you're bound to freak her out."

"When you said we were to meet here, I didn't know that Denise was one of your students," John said softly.

"You had heard me mention my students before, why is now suddenly so different for you?" He asked.

"I don't know, but I know I hurt her, and I would give my life if I could go back and erase that part of my life. I know I cannot, but God, I wish I could," John rubbed his face and after a few moments had passed, he looked at his older brother. "Can't you help me, Chris? I would never ask you to do anything else for me as long as I live, but please, try to convince Denise that I'm not this horrible monster that she probably thinks I am."

"You really care about her, don't you?"

"Yes, Chris, I guess I do," John replied, his voice filled with despondency. "I know that she probably hates me for what I did, I mean; her family does. I talked to her mother at the church sometime ago, and she looked at me as though she was ready to skin me alive. I guess, I understand why, I hurt Denise deeply, and now I wish there was something I could do to make it up to her, to show her that I care, that I am grateful to her."

"Something will eventually happen, John," came the response and the young man could only nod. As the choir director and his younger brother left the room, they came out into the hallway. Chris turned and locked the rehearsal room but John had glanced down the hallway and could see the row of lockers that lined the corridor.

Denise was sitting on the floor up against some lockers, her head down and her body trembling. Her arms were wrapped around herself, but every so often she would run her hand along the smooth surface of the locker. "Her best friend's locker was there," Chris offered. "Jo and her were very close, and before I went into the hospital, Denise was a very angry, and hurt young woman."

"The fairgrounds," John whispered.

"She told me some years ago that the Eastside fairgrounds was the last place she had visited with her parents," Chris said softly. "She said that sometimes she would go there and talk to her mom and dad."

"But I thought…" John's voice trailed.

"No, Christina and Jeremy Lowery adopted her and her twin sister after they died. It was a pretty messy ordeal. So much so that the family ended up in the local paper. She had a brother, Patrick, who died about five years ago," Chris said. "You know now that you're not the only one who ever had a rough go of it. That's something you share with her, John, and if you want this girl in your life, you're going to have to take it slowly. You hurt her, and now it's time to pay the piper."

"I would give anything," John whispered.

"Then go and tell her that," the teacher said and he nodded. Before he walked towards where she was sitting, Chris reached out and touched his younger brother's shoulder. "Do be gentle with her, she's still my student and she's someone I am very protective of. It may sound like a load of rubbish to you, but having known her during the last four years, I do know her pretty well and I know that she's been through a lot."

John nodded as he slowly walked towards the lockers and looked down at her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder, this action causing her to snap her head up and her eyes met his. "I didn't mean to freak you out back there," John offered weakly, uncertain of what to say next. When he made eye contact with her, he noticed that her eyes were filled with mistrust and he could tell that the unasked question, 'why are you here?' seemed to hang in the air. "I guess you didn't really know that Chris Travers is my brother."

Denise shook her head, but no words emerged.

Instead of remain standing, John sat down on the floor, but kept a safe distance from her. "My brother told me about Jo," he offered.

"Yeah," she whispered, her word more or less a sigh.

"Her locker?" He asked.

"Yes," she looked down at her lap. "I remember her last day here."

"It must be hard to lose someone that you are so close to, someone who you're used to being around and sharing your feelings with," he said softly.

She nodded slowly, but instead of saying anything she wrapped her arms around herself.

"I guess you're still scared of me," he whispered. "I don't blame you for that."

"I just didn't know that I would see you here. I hadn't seen you since we talked at the church, and then you show up here out of nothing," she said softly.

"You probably figured that after we met at the church you'd never see me again, at least you probably hoped that you wouldn't," John began, his voice soft. "I suppose after that, you figured that I would just go off with a cleared conscious and you'd never have to see me again. But, the truth is, my conscious nags at me every night. I did something really horrible, something that I wish to God that I could take back, but I know I cannot."

Denise looked at him. "Nothing can be taken back, at least not with this," she whispered. "It hurts me to see you here, to know that you…"

"That I?" He asked softly.

Denise shook her head, but said nothing. "I can't forget what happened, John. I want to, I want to so bad, if I could then I know that you and I could maybe be friends…but…"

"Would it help if I told you that you inspired me to get my life back in some sort of control?" He asked softly as he inched closer to her. "I'm working on getting my GED, and I've taken on a new job. I really am trying to get my life back in order."

"I'm happy for you," she whispered, but her voice was filled with suppressed pain.

"Are you?" He asked, his question direct.

Denise looked at him. "What do you want me to say? What am I supposed to think? You stood idly by while your friends wanted to rape me? You come to me wanting things to be like they are in an old TV show. Forgive and forget, well, let me tell you something, I can't forget. I still have nightmares; I still lie in bed at night scared to death. I still watch my adoptive mother have to deal with anxieties that were only brought back to her because of what happened to me. She remembers when she was raped, and now with the prom coming up, she probably is sitting around paranoid that this same kind of thing could happen to us. Do you think that this is easy? I may be able to forgive you, and I did, in the church I said it, but I can't forget, and God help me, but I can't." As she spoke, she could feel the tears streaming down from beneath her eyes.

John got to his feet. "I don't expect you to," he whispered, the tears brimming under his eyes. "I really don't, Denise, but please, give me a chance to show you that I really do want to be a friend."

"A friend?" She whispered.

"Yes, I want to be there, I want to show you that I can be a friend, if you'll let me," he said softly, his unhappy green eyes seeking hers.

When she didn't respond, he got to his feet and walked slowly away. Denise sat staring after him. "I can't forget, but I want to believe you," she whispered as he disappeared around a corner and she slowly got to her feet and walked slowly towards the exit, her eyes scanning the now empty halls for him, but when she didn't see him, she shook her head in hopelessness. John was gone, and now she knew that there was no chance of her seeing him again, and she didn't know yet if she was happy about that or completely miserable.

As she reached the door that led outside, Geoff and Hope called out her name as they came running over to her. Hope was smiling brightly, her hand now holding tightly to his. "Guess what Denise?" Hope asked excitedly, but when she didn't answer, she continued. "Geoff asked me to go to the prom with him."

Denise smiled at the two of them, but instead of speaking, she nodded slowly and walked outside. Geoff and Hope were left staring after her with obvious confusion shadowing their faces.

*****

A week later, Denise stood in front of the mirror in her room and beheld her appearance. It was now the evening of the prom and she was relieved as she recalled how easy it had been to get her dress. As promised, they had gone out the previous weekend to find their dresses. Denise had found the most perfect dress and Dawn seemed to be pleased with her own dress. The evening was now perfect, it was a comfortably warm evening and in the neighboring room, she could hear Dawn fussing with her makeup.

Downstairs, she figured that Christina and Jeremy were getting things ready so that they could video tape their daughters before they would be leaving with their dates. Denise smiled weakly as she thought about them. Although it looked as though Christina was now happy, she knew that her adoptive mother had a great deal on her mind. As her thoughts drifted, she started to think about John.

I can't stop thinking about him, she thought to herself. His image seemed to encompass her thoughts almost constantly, and although she figured that she would never see him again, she simply could not fathom why on earth she was literally consumed with thoughts of this young man; the brother of her choir director, the one who had spoken to her with so much sincerity that she just wanted to forget that he had been present when she had been assaulted. What would her family say if she told them that she was constantly dwelling on a guy that she knew was way out of her league? Sighing deeply, she considered how Jeremy would respond. He was still trying to play the role of the overprotective father, and if he knew that she carried feelings for a boy like John, he'd flip a gasket for certain.

As she tried to block these thoughts, she spun around in front of the mirror, her strawberry red hair swept up off of her neck and small pieces of baby's breath was pinned in her hair, making her look like a princess. She smiled as she regarded her reflection; her white taffeta gown brushing against her ankles as though she was in the middle of a beautiful dream.

Seconds later and someone tapped on her door. She went and opened it and saw her sister in an emerald green gown. Dawn had decided against wearing red, and when she had found the emerald green colored gown, she couldn't resist and she, like her sister, carried a smile on her face. "You look wonderful, your date is going to freak when He sees you," Dawn said smiling happily.

Denise shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, well, AJ won't be able to keep his eyes off you either," Denise said smiling weakly. "Be careful, with his humor, he might say you're at the very top of the desert list at the restaurant."

Dawn looked at her sister, but when she saw the contemplative look on Denise's face, she sighed deeply. "What's the matter? Do you think your date is going to leave you hanging or something?"

"No, I don't think He will, I was just thinking about when we bought these dresses, and how Mom was trying to be brave during all of it," Denise said. "Dawn, you've been on dates before and stuff. How do you know if you've met the right guy?"

"Is Al Mr. Right?" Dawn asked.

"No, He's a wonderful friend, but He's not the one I wish I was going to the prom with. I mean, don't get me wrong, we're going to have a great time tonight, but I keep thinking about John and I can't get him out of my mind," she whispered.

"John? Who's John?" Dawn asked with obvious confusion in her eyes.

"You know Mr. Travers, the choir director?" Denise asked.

"Yeah, don't tell me that you've got it bad for that guy, he's twice your age and as old as dirt," Dawn said sarcastically.

"No, John's his younger brother, and ever since last week, he's been constantly on my mind. He hurt me, but…"

"…But you're head over heels in love with him," Dawn said softly. "He was one of those guys from the gang, the one who blew the whistle on the whole bunch of them, right?"

"How did you know about that?" Denise asked.

"No biggie, everyone who even knows squat about journalism knows about it, besides I overheard Jeremy talking on the phone with one of the cops while you were at choir rehearsal some days ago. He was talking so loud, you could hear him all the way through the house. I guess my good ears homed in on it," Dawn said. "The name John Travers has been filtering through the press here, now that Hope's family is finally being left alone. Besides that, aside from being in the art club, I do write for the school paper, so we do take in what the local media is doing, and this is big news." As she finished speaking, she brushed her hand over the dress she wore.

"Dawn, I wish I could tell you everything that is happening with me, but I can't, maybe after tonight we can talk about all of this." Denise responded.

"OK, then after tonight, we'll talk about everything," Dawn said as the doorbell chimed and the two girls looked at each other.

"It's probably your date," they both said at the same time and afterwards, they both began to giggle.

"Denise, be careful with the pin when you put the flower on Al's lapel, blue violets don't look good with blood splatters," Dawn snickered as Jeremy's voice drifted into the room.

"Dawn, AJ is here."

"Now I know how you could have overheard him," Denise said softly and Dawn laughed out loud and flashed her sister a thumbs up sign as she responded to her sister's words.

"I just love punctuality in a man," Dawn purred as she flounced out of the room.

Denise remained standing in front of the mirror, her thoughts literally racing. He promised, she thought to herself, but in the back of her mind, she wondered if everything would be OK, if tonight would turn out to be a dream, or a nightmare.

"He'll be here, try not to worry," a voice behind her emerged and she turned around to see that Andrew was standing in the doorway. "You look beautiful, Denise," the angel said smiling.

"Does the Father know about…" Her voice trailed off.

"About your feelings for John Travers?" Andrew asked.

"It's crazy, I know," she responded, her voice filled with uncertainty.

The angel shook his head. "What's crazy is denying yourself the chance to feel what you feel because you're scared that people will judge you. You have been hearing stories about John for the last week, about him somehow finding the courage to fight for what's right. You remember him saying that he would do anything to make this up to you, and yet, you're scared to try and find out how sincere he is because of Jeremy or Christina. Yet, the most important part of this equation is you, Denise, because this is about you, and what you have to do for yourself. The Father will always give you the opportunities, but now it will be up to you to try and find out."

"I just feel like I am stuck in the middle of a Shakespearian tragedy," Denise whispered.

"I know, but think about this, there is no such thing as 'happily ever after' anymore than there is such a thing as 'the end'. All that exists is a continuation, and that could continue with John, or without him, but you will never know unless you find the courage to live the life you were meant to live." Andrew wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly in his arms. "You have demonstrated an overwhelming amount of courage during these past weeks, Denise, but all of that has been for the sake of other people. You let go of your best friend, thus giving her peace; you made a few new friends, you found something that dwells inside of you that many people take years to discover in themselves. Today, it is your turn to choose what it is you desire most."

"But, I don't know what that is, I'm only eighteen; I still feel like a child," she whispered.

"Not anymore, Denise, you're a young woman, and when you walk through that door tonight, you will discover that you are not that frail little girl anymore," Andrew smiled gently. "You have the capacity to change the world, but that change will always start with you, and one of the things you will find out is that the feelings you have for John could, very well be returned."

"I don't know anymore," she whispered hopelessly as the doorbell rang. "I actually don't know."

Andrew went over to her and put his arm around her shoulder. "You will, trust that God is in control here," he said smiling and after a few moments of silence had passed, the doorbell rang again. "That's for you."

Denise nodded as she looked up at him. "You're leaving after tonight, aren't you?"

The angel nodded. "Yes, after you and Al head off, I will be going to my next assignment."

"I'm really going to miss you, Andrew," she said softly, as she felt tears in her eyes.

"You're going to be alright, my friend," he said smiling gently. "But, don't cry, you'll ruin your makeup." He reached over and touched her face with the side of his hand. "Denise, you will see angels again, I promise, now you'd better get downstairs and not keep your date waiting." He winked at her as she nodded, grabbed her small purse, and left the room. He followed close behind and once they were downstairs, Denise could see that her date had in fact, arrived.

AJ and Dawn were getting acquainted with Al as Denise came out into the room, her eyes filed with a strange mixture of joy and bittersweet sadness as she laid eyes on her date. He was dressed in a black suit and bow tie, His long brown hair combed until it shone. She smiled and approached, her eyes seeking His and almost as if by instinct, He looked up at her, but also got to His feet.

"You look wonderful," He said in greeting and she blushed as Christina came out with a camera, and Jeremy held a camcorder in his hand.

"S-so do You," she managed to speak as she felt His arm around her shoulder.

He leaned over and whispered. "Relax, I don't bite. Tonight is going to be fun, trust Me," He said smiling secretly. "I've even brushed up on My dancing, next time you see Tess, you can ask her about it. Like she always says, 'Tess doesn't just talk the talk, she walks the walk, baby'."

Denise smiled weakly, but when she said nothing further, He touched her arm. "We'll talk about everything on our way to the restaurant, OK?"

She nodded as Jeremy came over to Al and spoke. "Can we please speak privately for a few minutes?" Al nodded and looking at Denise with a smile, He excused Himself. Once they had stepped out into the warm spring breeze, he looked at his daughter's date. "Listen, I know deep inside that You won't do anything to hurt Denise, and I am really working on trusting you, but do take care of her tonight. I know it sounds awful of me to say so, but my wife is really worried, and I don't want Denise to go through what Christina did."

Al nodded. "I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Lowery," He said politely. "I can promise you this, I will do nothing to hurt her. She's in good hands with Me, and I would make that same guarantee to Mrs. Lowery as well, if that will help ease both your and her worries."

Jeremy nodded and opened the door and they stepped back into the living room all the while they both noticed that Andrew had come into the room as well and the Father nodded in the direction of the angel. "Andrew mentioned some of these events to Me, Mr. Lowery, so I can understand why it is that your wife would be concerned and I think most parents would be under these kinds of circumstances."

Jeremy nodded gratefully as Al walked slowly over to Denise. As they approached the teenagers, he spoke again, his voice filled with relief. "I really appreciate You being so understanding about this, Al; most kids today, may not be as conscientious about things as You have been."

He nodded as He looked at Denise. "Let Me talk to your mom for a second and then you will have My undivided attention for the rest of the evening," He said gently and once she nodded He went into the kitchen where Christina was standing at the counter and drinking a glass of water. "Mrs. Lowery?"

She turned around. "Oh, Al, I'm sorry, I didn't hear You come in. Would You care for a cola or perhaps an iced tea?"

He shook His head. "No, but thank you. I wanted to ask you if you were OK with your daughter going out with Me? I know you don't know Me all that well, but I can promise you that you have nothing to worry about, I would never hurt Denise."

She nodded. "I suppose I don't have any really adequate reasons, but I do worry about them, especially on a night like this."

"This is because you remember your own prom, don't you?" He asked softly.

"Yes, I suppose I do, right after it happened, I got very sick and was in the hospital for over a week with pneumonia," she said softly as she shook her head. "My date had dumped me in the middle of nowhere after having raped me. Andrew found me, and he and his friends helped me."

Al nodded. "I know, Andrew told me."

"He did?" Christina asked softly.

"Yes," He smiled weakly, but looked at her, His eyes intent. "It is time for you to trust someone other than yourself or your husband to protect and watch over your children," He said softly.

"You don't understand…" she began.

"I do understand, just ask Andrew after we go how much I actually do understand," He offered gently.

Instead of getting angry as she felt herself prone to do, she simply nodded and watched as He left the room. Reluctantly, she returned the glass to the sink, smiled weakly, left the room, and went back out into the living room.

Jeremy had been filming all the events taking place and Christina was glad about that, as she now saw Dawn wearing a matching corsage and she watched as the teenager pinned the small boutonniere on the lapel of Adam Joshua's jacket. "If you don't hold still, I may end up poking you," she muttered as she tried to put it on him all the while watching him shift from uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

Denise watched, all the while thinking that she ought to go into the kitchen and get Al's out of the refrigerator as well. She excused herself and went to retrieve the small violet that she had selected especially for Him. She wanted to get something that would match his perfect blue eyes. She pulled it out and looked down at it, the flower looked so beautiful, she only hoped that He would like it as much as she did.

Some moments passed and she could hear the sounds of the front door as Dawn and AJ left for the restaurant AJ had reserved them a table at. Dawn had said something about having reservations for dinner, and she wondered for a moment if she would get to eat dinner at a nice restaurant or settle for dinner at the prom. Taking a deep breath, she left the kitchen and stepped out into the living room. In the room, Al was speaking jovially with Christina and Jeremy. She approached slowly.

"I have something for You," she said softly as she touched His shoulder.

He turned and smiled as His gaze came to rest on the flower that the teenager held. "It's beautiful," He said gently all the while noticing how shy, almost intimidated, she looked.

Jeremy held up the camera, "Now, just pin it to His lapel, Denise," he said as he began to tape them.

Denise nodded and she removed the boutonniere from the package and managed after a couple of tries to pin the flower to His jacket. As she did, she took a step back and looked up at Him. "It's wonderful," He said smiling. "Now for yours."

She flushed as He pulled a matching corsage out of a small bag that He carried. This He put on her wrist. "Mine's a lot easier than yours," He smiled, "no pins."

Denise smiled and as soon as Jeremy stopped filming and Christina had snapped a few photos of them, it was time for them to go. Denise went over to her mother and hugged her. "Thanks for helping me get ready for this, I couldn't have done this without you."

"Have fun and do be careful," Christina said softly as she wiped a stray tear from her eyes.

Denise nodded and turned to embrace her father before accepting Al's arm and the two of them stepped outside.

Once the door closed, Christina looked at Andrew. "I guess this is it, my test of faith," she whispered.

Andrew smiled gently as he went over to his longtime friend. "Christina, you will find the trust you need, but not because Al told you so, but because even though she left with Him, she's not going to be coming home with Him. He will leave here before the night is over, and He will say 'good-bye' to your daughter and will return Home."

"What?" Jeremy practically exploded.

"Jeremy, do you know who Al is?" Andrew asked directly. "Perhaps in knowing the truth, you will be better able to understand God's will. You see, the Father is in the guise of a teenage boy, although you know that in truth, the Almighty is not a teenage boy in reality. Furthermore, He is not bound by human limitations, He is God, the name Al is a shortened version of one of His many names, Alpha, being one of them. As you know, Alpha means the beginning, and it has been through Al, that Denise has found a new sense of courage to make a new start for herself. It may seem hard for you to understand all of this now, but God has been with Denise for a divine purpose, He has chosen to come here, not only as a means to help your daughter let go, but also to give her a courage that she has never known to have existed in her life."

"But we tried, Andrew," Christina said softly and Jeremy nodded.

"I know, but this was a task that the Father wanted to take, He wanted to show Denise that she was the reason He was here. It may seem strange for you to accept this, but it is the truth, and God knows how much your family has been through, but in everything that has happened, Denise has needed to feel significant and important, and through this experience, she has not only managed to abandon the words Pastor Stevens said to her and Dawn all those years ago, but she has embraced the idea that God truly loves her."

"She had doubts?" Jeremy asked.

"Yes, she did, as did Dawn, but both girls understand now that God loves them, just as He loves both of you," Andrew said gently. "Tonight will be hard for your whole family, because the girls know that it will be hard for you, but it will be necessary so that all of you can put the past behind you and look towards the future. From what I understand about it, the future is looking really quite nice for all of you."

Christina nodded as she felt the tears streaming down her face, but instead of getting up and going to the window, she remained seated on the sofa, her head coming to rest on Jeremy's shoulder. "Andrew, I…" her voice trailed off when she realized that the angel was now gone, a slip of paper was on the coffee table and she looked down at it and once she had read it, she looked back at Jeremy. "I guess he had to go."

Jeremy smiled weakly, all the while wondering what would happen that night and who Denise would be returning home with.

*****

Outside, Al was opening the car door and helping Denise to get in. Once she was seated, He closed the door and went around to the driver's side. As He got behind the wheel, He looked at her, all the while noticing that she seemed to have a great deal more on her mind than the prom. "We need to hurry," He said softly. "The reservation is for six thirty. I thought you might like to eat somewhere first before we go to the prom. No one ever really eats at the prom," He winked at her.

"You really did Your homework on this," she said softly.

"Well, Tess couldn't believe that I was actually doing this. Between you and Me, sometimes she needs to lighten up," came the snappy response. "So what do you think of My choice of cars for tonight?" He asked as He glanced over at her, His eyes filled with mischief.

She smiled as she regarded the interior of the black convertible He drove. "I like it. I must admit, I didn't know what would happen tonight. After You left a few weeks ago, I thought I wouldn't see You again."

"I made you a promise, remember?" He asked as He looked at her coyly. "Besides, what kind of example would I be for anyone if I can't keep My promises."

Denise nodded as He drove the car a few blocks from where she lived. "So, first to a restaurant and then to the prom." When she didn't respond, He looked at her. "Is something wrong, Denise?" He asked.

"I keep thinking about other things I guess, I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What's there to be sorry for, you are a sensitive person, Denise, and you are bound to think about other things tonight," He said smiling gently at her as He pulled the car to the side of the road, cut the motor and looked at her, His eyes intent. "You're thinking about John, aren't you?" He asked gently, and when He noticed her face flushing, He reached over and touched the side of her face. "It's OK for you to feel something for him, Denise."

"It is?" She asked softly.

"Of course, I can't be your boyfriend, you already know that, I can love you as My daughter, I can adore you as a my friend, but a romance wouldn't happen because My love is different," He said gently.

"I just didn't want to…hurt You," she whispered. "I know that that sounds so stupid, but I've already said a lot of things about You and to You that I shouldn’t have said, and if I told You that I wished that John was with me, too, then I was scared that…"

He reached over and touched her face. "Your honesty is very endearing, Denise."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," He said as He pulled away from the curb.

Denise glanced over at Him opting to change the subject. "Did You know that Hope got asked to the prom too?"

His face darkened, "I wanted to tell you about that, I had found out, but this may not be the best night of her life, she's going to need some help from both of us tonight."

"He's going to hurt her?" Denise asked softly. "But, I thought Geoff was nice. He always seemed nice during rehearsals."

"Not Geoff, Denise, in fact, he's a good guy, the problem will be the other boys. We'll just have to keep an eye on her if she's not in the company of her date," He said softly. "Denise, we're going to have fun together, but it may not end up as you think."

As they pulled into the parking lot for a small restaurant, He parked the car and got out. As she reached for the seatbelt and began to take it off, the door swung open and He offered a hand to her. "Shall we?"

She smiled weakly. "I can't believe I'm going to the prom with You," she whispered. "Sometimes I think I'm only dreaming."

He smiled. "Sometimes dreams are much more real than reality is."

With His arm around her, He led her towards the door and they went inside. As soon as they entered the darkened dining area, Denise smiled as she took in the place. A few couples were already there, but they were more fixated with each other than they were with what was on the menu or what was happening around them.

As the host came over to them, she looked up, her breath almost catching in her throat when she recognized the familiar green eyes of John Travers.

"John?" She spoke his name, her voice soft.

"Denise, w-what are you doing here?" He asked softly.

"We have a reservation," Al said.

John looked at her and then at Al, his eyes filled with sadness. "I see," he managed to speak, but his obvious jealousy was showing and he tried to keep his disappointment at bay. "Well, then let me show you to your table," he managed.

Denise looked up at him. "John?"

When he said nothing, she sighed deeply all the while wanting to speak, but seeing the look on the face of host, she bit down on her lip and felt tears stinging her eyes. She glanced towards Al, but He reached over and squeezed her hand.

John, seeing this, pulled her chair out from the table and once she was seated, he handed them each a menu and Denise, instead of looking at Al or down at the menu watched as John walked away.

"This is a beautiful place," she whispered as her attention shifted and she regarded the crystal water glasses and the silver flatware. She picked up a fork and touched one of the prongs. "I guess I'm used to fast food, or buffets. I am not accustomed to such a nice dinner or even cloth napkins."

"Then tonight will be something special for you," He smiled as He picked up a napkin and ran it between His fingers.

As silence descended on them, Al looked at her. "Denise, if you really love him, maybe you should write him a note or something. Here, I have a pen and some paper, just write what is in your heart, and let John make some choices for himself."

"You noticed that he looked…" her voice trailed.

"…Jealous?" Al smiled. "…He thinks I'm your boyfriend."

"I know, and it hurt when he walked away," she whispered.

"Then tell him, write a note to him, and give it to the waitress. I'll take care of the orders," He smiled and she nodded as she began to write, her hand trembling as she tried to get her thoughts to paper.

As she finished the note, Denise smiled. Her handwriting was not hardly legible, but she hoped that John would at least read it. When the waitress approached their table and took their orders, the teenager looked at the woman. "Excuse me, I have something for the host…"

"John, you mean?" The waitress asked.

"Yes, could you please give this to him for me?" She asked softly as she handed a folded up piece of paper to the woman. She nodded and Denise looked at Al. "He's going to think I'm off my rocker."

Al shook His head. "No, he won't."

"I think that I would though," she whispered.

"He won't," came the simple answer. "Sometimes, when someone is in love, they are scared. Monica once said that falling in love is scary, because people are scared to fall, they are scared that no one will catch them, that others will judge them, but Denise, you love John, and it may seem strange to others that you care for him, but to you, it's not strange or weird, it's just experiencing being in love."

She glanced in the direction of where she had seen John, but now he was gone and she covered her face with her hands, all the while thinking that she had completely blown everything with him.

*****

Some twenty minutes later, Denise wiped her mouth with a napkin as she looked across the table at Him. "That was a wonderful dinner, but I don't think I have any room for desert now."

"Hey Denise," A familiar voice emerged through the restaurant and she looked up to see Hope walking through the room towards her, Geoff was next to her, the boy smiling warmly, his eyes bright as they came closer to the table.

"Hi, Hope, Hey Geoff, I thought you guys were going to meet us at the prom, not show up at the same restaurant," Denise said trying all the while to smile, but it, like everything else about her this particular night emerging forced.

"We were going to go somewhere else, but I forgot to make a reservation, so we found they had some free tables here, and so we decided to come here. From what I heard, no one goes to the prom on an empty stomach," Geoff offered winking as he patted his stomach with satisfaction. "We just had the most wonderful dinner, and guess what? Hope asked me to be her date for her prom when she goes to hers in two years. Imagine that." He chuckled softly as he touched Hope's shoulder lovingly.

"You both look really happy tonight," Al offered smiling.

"Oh we are," Hope smiled as she looked at Denise, completely unaware that from across the room, John was watching them, all the while too shy about coming over to the table.

"That's really great," Denise said softly, but deep inside of herself she felt another twinge of envy in knowing that her friend seemed to have better luck attracting boys than she did. She remembered the day Geoff had asked Hope to the prom and how she had persuaded him to go up to her and ask. Yet, now she wanted to go to John and tell him what was in her heart, and she was too afraid to.

As Denise looked at the One who was accompanying her, she could almost tell that Al knew something was not quite right with her, but instead of speaking about it, He offered His hand to her and she accepted it and stood up. "I guess we'll see you two there, then," He offered and Hope nodded.

Seconds later, they walked towards the front of the restaurant, and as she passed the host's counter, she could see the folded up piece of paper that she had given to the waitress. Instead of speaking to Al about this, she walked slowly with Him outside.

The sun was now sinking behind the trees and Denise looked around the parking lot. It was now full; most of the customers were people who were to attend the prom later that evening.

As He helped her get into the passenger side of the car, she glanced up and could see that Hope had stepped outside and she was alone. The girl was smiling brightly and Denise knew that nothing was wrong with the date, Geoff was probably still inside taking care of the bill and she had wanted to get some fresh air instead of having to wait inside.

As Al got behind the wheel, a group of about ten boys started to approach her, their loud voices filtering across the parking lot to where she was now seated. As she looked at the boys, she shook her head as a strange, almost uneasy feeling literally was encasing her. "Al," she spoke His name, and looked at Him as He got into the car. She glanced back over at the front of the restaurant and her next words emerged, all the while, she hoped that He would understand these uncanny and strange feelings she carried. "Something doesn't feel right."

He nodded as He got out of the car. "Remember when I said that there would be trouble tonight?" He asked.

"Yes," Denise asked as He pointed and she could see Adam standing next to the door leading inside. "But who is that? I think I may have seen him somewhere before."

"His name is Adam, if someone doesn't help Hope right now, then he will be taking her Home tonight," came the soft answer. "You know that I don't want to see that happen, but she's going to need a lot of help."

Denise nodded and without thinking, she quickly got out of the car.

*****

On the parking lot in front of the restaurant, Hope could see the boys coming closer to her, their voices slurred as though they had been drinking excessively and she recognized them as being the same group of boys who had harassed her at school.

"Well, look at what we have here, fellas," one of the boys sneered. "Our resident tramp is trying to play Cinderella and go to her first ball."

Hope backed away from the group and towards the doors leading inside the restaurant. What she didn't expect was to find that that someone was standing right behind her and blocking her path to the doorway that would lead inside. She tried to back away from them in another direction, but what happened next caused her blood to go cold, the boy had taken both of her arms and was holding them in a vice like grip behind her pack. His face was now pressed against one side of her neck. "Now, play nice, little girl, and you won't get hurt," He slurred against her ear, and she began to fight against his hold.

"OK, guys, step right up…" the boy called out to his friends who only laughed. Hope screamed; her cries filled with agony, and her voice drifting across the parking lot.

"Let her go," Denise called out as she got closer to the group, her voice filled with fright, but all she could do was clasp her hands and try without much success at keeping her voice completely level. "I mean it."

At that moment, the door to the restaurant swung open and Geoff stepped outside only to see that his date assaulted by the group of boys. One of them, by this time, had pulled a pocket knife from his pocket and Geoff took a deep breath as he backed slowly into the restaurant. When he saw John, standing at the counter, took a deep breath. "My date is being terrorized by a gang of boys," he began as he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and called the police. He was smart enough to know to know that getting involved directly would be foolish.

John ran towards the door, and when he looked outside, he could see that Denise was trying without any success at getting her friend out of the grip of the boys. When they eventually grabbed her as well, she screamed. "Help us, someone," she cried out when she felt the arm of one of the boys against her neck and she was unable to breathe. She grasped at the arm of the boy, but nothing happened, and she suddenly felt herself moved backwards towards the group of boys.

"Double your pleasure, double your fun," the boy hissed into her ear, and she felt him pulling on her hair, her head being forced back. "We told you that you'd get yours, baby-cakes," the boy who held her said softly, and she felt herself trying to fight against his hold. "We had no idea that we'd get to have our way with you and your slut friend here, and it's a special night, it's prom night. Sometimes good things do come to he who waits." With a wicked chuckle, she could feel the boy's mouth against her neck.

"Let me go, you coward," Denise cried out, her voice filled with hatred as she tried to struggle out of his grip. When his lips were close to her own and tried to kiss her, she bit down on his lip and could taste the saltiness of his blood.

"You little whore," the boy cursed as he slapped his hand across her cheek, the stinging of his strike causing her to crumble to the ground in a heap, the dizziness overwhelming her.

Seeing this, Hope screamed, but within seconds, someone had jerked the boy holding her away and she looked up and into a pair of kind green eyes. "Get inside," the man demanded and she hesitated.

"But, Denise…" Hope sobbed, but instead of responding, the boy who had spoken to her literally shoved her back through the door and into the now crowded restaurant. Geoff ran after her, his eyes filled with fear as he closed the door behind his girlfriend.

"Oh John, you just ruined our fun," the boy sneered as he looked at whom it was who had successfully gotten Hope away from him.

John looked at the boy, his eyes filled with hostility, but he said nothing, instead he merely pushed the boy away. "Now, you drunk bunch of cowards, get off these premises or the management here will file charges."

The boy shook his head and spoke, his voice a depiction of treachery. "You know, Johnny boy, you used to be just like us, until you ran into that little bitch over there and she turned you into a spoiled rotten do-gooder. Well, no matter, once Butch gets done with her, then I'll have my turn," the boy who had been holding Hope said as he recovered from what had just transpired.

John started to walk towards where the boys towered over Denise, his eyes filled with fright, but he could tell by looking at the other boys that they could obviously not stand on their own two feet, much less harm Denise in broad daylight.

By this time, about five or six of the boys had run off when they could hear the distant sirens, and when they turned around, they could see a number of the people in the restaurant looking outside the windows and were watching them. Eventually, they realized that they had very little choice, so they all dispersed except for two of them.

John shook his head. "You will never learn," he said as he got down next to where Denise was lying on the ground, her face now streaked with tears, her dress ripped, and her body now trembling. When he noticed that the boy who held her would not release her, he tried without much success at getting the boy to leave her alone. As he managed to pull the boy away from Denise, he shouted to her, his voice firm, but commanding. "Go get in the car and lock the doors."

Denise nodded as she stumbled towards the convertible, and immediately noticed that the top was now up, but with trembling hands, she reached for the door, opened it and literally dove headfirst into the car. As soon as she managed to close the door, she locked it. "Oh God, Oh God," she repeated again and again, her voice trembling, her body shaking like a leaf. "Where are You?"

She glanced towards the activities taking place on the parking lot; she heard a loud scream and she turned around to see that one of the boys was now on the ground, a knife wound on his shoulder, and she grew dizzy as she clearly could see the red blood seeping through the dress shirt he wore. "John!" She screamed as loud as she could, when she recognized that it was him who lay on the pavement unmoving.

Without even giving the possibility of danger any thought, she unlocked the door, got out of the car, and ran towards the young man who was now on the ground.

By this time the sirens of the approaching police cars had reached a near deafening pitch, and she looked up to see that the rest of the boys had run off.

Instead of paying attention to how they were eventually stopped, she looked down at John, who lay on the cement parking lot, bleeding and in pain. Seconds passed, and she glanced up, but only for a moment to see that Al was now standing in the way blocking the gang of boys' only means of escape.

Denise looked down at John, his eyes slowly opening, but she could see the agony in them as he looked up at her. "Denise…" he coughed. "Y-you're safe."

"John, I…" she stammered as his eyes glazed over and he started to sink out of consciousness. "No, John, don't pass out, please…"

He took her hand in his and held it. "I'll be OK, I've had worse, I don't remember when, but I have…" He tried to offer her a brave smile, but contrary to the jokes he tried to tell, she could see that his eyes were filled with agony.

"You saved my life, John," she whispered softly as the tears streamed from beneath her eyes. "I was so scared, but you saved my life, and Hope's."

"I was too," he said softly as he tried to press his hand against his abdomen where the stab wound was.

She rested her hand against where his was pressed. "Hold it harder, like this," she whispered as she positioned his hand over the wound. He cringed as she applied the necessary pressure, but he looked at her.

"How do you know all of this?" He asked, his voice weak and agonized.

"I took a class in first aid at the community center," she said softly as she brushed her hand through his light brown hair. "Just relax, someone should have called an ambulance by now."

John swallowed and looked up at her. "You're not mad at me anymore?" He asked trying to joke with her, but his voice was filled with traces of sadness as well as indescribable anguish.

"No, after we talked at the school, I had a chance to think about what your brother said, as well as the things you told me," Denise said softly. "I couldn't get your words out of my mind. I would lay in bed thinking about them, not able to go to sleep. I remembered how much I had learned from God during those times when He would talk to me. I remembered how he would forgive me for saying some of the most horrible things in the world. I know I screwed up a lot of things, John, but I never imagined that you would ever see me as more than just…" her voice trailed off as something caught her attention and she looked up to see that Andrew was now crouched next to both of them, his hand brushing through John's tousled hair. "Please, Andrew, don't take him away from me, not like this."

The angel looked down at John, who had closed his eyes for a moment and then he looked at Denise. "Denise, I…" His voice trailed.

"No, don't you dare tell me that he's going to die, and I…" her voice broke, and she tried to wipe the tears with the back of her hand.

"I'm not here to take him Home, Denise. John's going to be OK, but now you know the truth about him. You know that he really does want to turn his life around. You inspired him, now you have a chance to let him make things up to you, to return to you the love and compassion that you have unselfishly given to him."

"You mean; he really likes me?" Denise asked, her voice emerging more like that of a little girl than of a young woman.

"He loves you very much," Andrew said softly. "He has loved you since the day he first talked to you after Jo's funeral. I know that you care for him as well, in your own way. You thought about what he had said, you contemplated many things about him. This is no accident, God made this moment just as He has made many others. Don't be afraid to tell John how you feel, God knows that you care for John Travers, and He knows that it is hard because you fear that other people would judge you for having feelings for someone who had once been your enemy."

"He was…Oh, Andrew, what should I do?" Denise said softly.

"Listen to your conscience and let it guide where you go," the angel said gently as he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "That alone will tell you the truth, because it's the voice of your dearest and most sacred friend. You see, the Father speaks to you with this voice, and He is telling you to that John is in your life for a divine and wonderful reason. Will you trust His words in your heart?"

Denise looked from the angel down at the young man on the sidewalk. "John…" her voice trailed off, but when she looked up, she could see that the angel had disappeared. "I know that the last time we talked, I was too angry to really see what a good person you are. I know now that you don't want to see me to get hurt, that's why you are here now, and why you got hurt. Oh John, I'm so sorry…" As she held him in her arms, she could feel the tears streaming down over her face. "…I want you to know that you've left such a wonderful impact on me."

John licked his dry lips as he tried to open his eyes, but only one word emerged from him in a hoarse whisper. "Denise…"

"Shhh, don't speak, just try to relax, I won't leave you," Denise said softly as she stroked his face gently with her fingertips. "We'll talk about everything when you get better, and this time, I promise you that I won't run away again."

John nodded numbly. "Thank you…"

As the police arrived on the scene, they rounded up the boys who had assaulted Denise and Hope and had the dispatcher call for an ambulance.

Denise remained with John, her hand still holding tightly to his. "You should go to the prom, you are supposed to have fun tonight, not be here like this," John whispered.

She shook her head. "I won't leave you, John, I can't," she whispered. "It's something I learned from Andrew a long time ago, don't ever leave your friends behind, no matter what happens, stay with them and be there for them."

"You know Andrew, the Angel of Death?" John whispered.

"Yes, he's one of my friends," she said, but as she spoke she could feel the fresh tears as they streamed down over her face. "John, if I were to go and leave you alone here, then I would hate myself for turning my back on someone I care about, and I couldn't stand to leave you all alone here."

"I'm not alone," he whispered. "You taught me that, Denise."

Seconds slowly ticked by and the Father approached them, His eyes filled with love and gentility as He regarded the two of them on the ground. As He sat down next to John, He rested His hand on the young man's shoulder, His other hand, was rested on Denise's shoulder. "I Am very proud of you, John," He whispered as He looked at Denise. "It is time for Me to return, My children."

"You planned this?" Denise asked weakly as she noticed the beige robe that the Father now wore, and He placed the flower that she had given to Him earlier that evening into her hand.

"It was My plan, yes, and Denise, you have been saddened by the idea that you are not special in the eyes of other people, now you must know and accept that you are," He smiled gently as He looked at John. "You will take My place, John, your place is now with Denise, and you have shown her in a very profound way that she is special. Now, you will do her the honor of accompanying her tonight." With a gentle hand, He pressed it against the abdomen of the young man and got to His feet.

Within seconds, the Father was gone and Denise looked around the parking lot, her gaze finally resting on the flower she now held in her hand. Standing next to her, in a suit and tie, was John Travers. She looked shyly at him. "You're OK, I mean; you're not hurt anymore."

"You are as well, and looking even more beautiful than I remember," he said and at that moment, Denise realized what had happened, John and the Father had, in fact, switched places. The Father would now be where He needed to be; watching over them and ever present in their lives. John was now standing next to Denise, his arm wrapped around her shoulder gently and holding her.

"John, what on earth happened?" She asked, her face now pale.

"You forgave me, and God helped us tonight," he said softly. "Denise, I don't know what all happened, I just know that I came here tonight because I was due to work as a greeter, and then I saw you…and I remembered everything that I had done when you had been hurt before, and I was jealous that someone else could be at your side, and not me. Then, everything happened and I realized that it was as though God was giving me a second chance to do for you what I should have done the first time." He looked down at her. "I honestly don't know what else to say, I just know that I don't deserve to have someone as wonderful as you in my life."

"You think I'm wonderful?" She asked softly.

"Yes, I do, but that word doesn't do you any justice; it is the only one I could think of," He said softly. He reached over and touched the side of her face with his gentle hand. "God came here and showed you in a very profound way that you are special and beautiful. He sent His angels to help, but mostly He made me realize that I am not alone in this world, that I am special. It takes a guy like me a lot of time to actually believe that I am of some worth here. You showed me that I am, and your friendship with Hope helped me to find the courage I needed to overcome all the painful and hard things that seemed to envelop my life."

Denise shrugged her shoulders, her eyes filled with love as she looked at him. "John, I know that as long as you're with me, I'm safe, and I'm really sorry about how I treated you back at the school earlier. I guess deep down inside, I knew that you had it hard, too but…" Her voice trailed off and she stared down at her shoes. "I guess my pride tried to make you into some kind of monster." As she spoke, fresh tears streamed from beneath her eyes. "I know now that you're not, you're more like me than I wanted to admit or even try to believe..."

John responded by reaching over and touching her lips with his gentle fingers. A few seconds later, he leaned over and replaced his fingers with his lips as they captured her mouth in a gentle and loving kiss. As he withdrew, they could both hear the sounds of a white dove cooing as it circled in flight over the parking lot.

"Thank you," she whispered to the stillness as their kiss ended and she glanced skyward, her eyes filled with tears. She knew that this would be a night she would remember for the rest of her life.

Moments later, Hope and Geoff came outside and joined them in the parking lot. As they reached where Denise and John now stood, Hope carried a look of confusion on her face. "What happened?" She asked softly. "Where's Al?"

"Al went Home, but He's watching over us. That much I know beyond any doubt," Denise said softly. "Are you OK now, Hope?"

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be? Geoff is my hero, my knight in shining armor," she smiled at her date as his face flushed crimson. Instead of elaborate on his actions, she smiled weakly. "I guess we'll meet you guys at the hotel ballroom, OK Denise?"

"OK," she nodded as she watched Hope and Geoff went over and got into his car and as she and John watched them drive off, she smiled weakly as she looked at him. "It's all over now, isn't it? Those boys are gone, and they won't ever hurt us again."

He shook his head. "I don't think they will, and that part is over, but the good news is we're just beginning. For me, this is something wonderful that is going to happen, and it's not something bad." He wrapped her gently in his arms. "I will do whatever I can to keep anything else bad from happening to you, and I won't stand around watching if it does. Please, just believe that me doing that to you was the worst mistake I have ever made. I care so much for you, Denise. You're my angel, and you helped me find peace in my life that I needed. It was a peace that I thought I'd never deserve."

Denise looked up at him. "I know that now, John, it just took me such a long time to figure out that you honestly did care for me. I didn't want to hope for it, because it seemed so impossible, like a story in a book of fairy tales."

John glanced skyward. "The Father showed us both that nothing's impossible, Denise and as much as I could know how to love, I do love you. It sounds rather strange for me to say so, but it's the truth and if God can show someone like me this truth and have me believe it, then maybe there is hope left for me in this world."

She smiled weakly, but nodded and wound her arms around his neck. "Thank you for saving my life tonight. Now I finally know that I do have something worth living for."

As she felt his lips once more capturing her own, she sighed with contentment as the white dove eventually disappeared in the distance.

The End…

*****

Dear Reader,

This is the first story with God as a character in it that I have written as a piece of fan fiction and this happened because I was inspired to sit down and write it. The characterization of God that I have in this particular story is entirely my perspective as to how God would be if He/She were to come here and walk among us. It is strictly my perspective and I would prefer that this not be made into an area of debate. I am, further, not sure if the future stories in this series will have this element contained within them, but it is something that I felt so strongly about as a writer that I was inclined to include it. I thank you for reading it, and I hope that you had as much enjoyment with reading it as I did in writing it.

Blessed Be,

Yvette Jessen

March 31, 2003

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