Sheila squinted into the sun’s glare as she rounded a curve, and for probably the tenth time today she questioned her decision. But after two long, painful years dealing with loss and betrayal, she felt she was making an effort to make some sense of the first part of her life—even if it meant a return to her childhood terrors to answer some difficult questions.

A movement drew her gaze far ahead to the right side of the road and scattered her concentration. Whatever it was disappeared in the white glare of the sun. She fidgeted in her seat, stretching taut muscles as she willed away the anxiety that had refused to give her any peace on this trip. It was a common occurrence lately, something she couldn’t blame on the letter from the school, or even on this troubled attachment to Preston.

The difficulties had started with her digestive system about a week after Ryan’s death and the discovery of his unfaithfulness. Within three months she'd lost so much weight she had to punch extra holes in her belt to hold up her skinniest pair of jeans—a situation about which, in any other time of her life, she’d have rejoiced.

Many mornings she’d awakened with a stiff neck and a headache from troubling dreams she couldn't remember—until the past few days.

The shock of loss, and the gradual discovery of the affairs during her marriage to Ryan, had chipped away at her self-confidence and her faith in life. For the first year of widowhood, she’d often battled against an inconsistency in her faith in God.

Why her? After losing her mother at such a young age, why had she been forced to yet another tragic loss?

Dad had instilled strong Christian convictions within her as a child. Sometimes she even questioned whether that set of standards was what caused her so much trouble. Although Twin Mesas held many good memories for her, it was also where all her worst memories had come to roost—and it was a Christian school, where strict Christian values were taught and upheld.

Though Sheila had never renounced her faith entirely, she had rebelled against many of its strictures—the most notable one being for believers to marry within their faith.

And look where it had landed her. Never again.

What hurt the most was that she had been the last one to know about Ryan’s affairs—even though his final fling had been with the very woman who was killed in the auto accident with him— Theresa Donohue, the fourth grade math teacher whose classroom was just down the hall from Ryan’s.

None of Sheila’s friends had told her, though she’d discovered later that several had been aware of his activities. She now had a new set of friends.

The movement on the desert attracted Sheila once again, closer this time, and larger, but still several hundred feet ahead of her. The sun’s glare continued to blur the figure, but when she looked away she could see it in her peripheral