Progressive Properties is aggressively taking over where small neighborhoods once flourished. Now Angelique's Shelter, St. Gabriel's, is under attack. Who shows up at her door to deliver the news? John McDougal, now a prominent property attorney, an...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
John opened his mouth to say something but lacked the words. He closed his mouth again and just nodded his head.
Angelique mimicked his action of nodding and moved on to take a seat in the back row of chairs. Rev. O'Bryan had entered the room, dressed in his vestments, a prayer book in hand. His presence, a signal to all present to take a seat as services were about to begin.
Soon after, they left in procession to the cemetery to Francis McDougal's final resting-place. Angelique couldn't understand why John had cremated his Father when he planned a Christian burial for him, but she assumed money must be tight and they couldn't afford to purchase a casket.
Rev. O'Bryan said one last prayer and then invited everyone on behalf of the family back to the church hall for refreshments. They took their flowers and laid them by the tombstone, saying their last goodbyes.
"How are you holding up?" Rev. O'Bryan asked, looking over Angelique. She looked physically drained.
Toying with the small gold cross that lay on a thin gold chain about her neck, she smiled. "I'm fine."
He had been looking after her since her discovery. The round bearded face with spectacles that rested on the tip of his nose became one of familiarity. Since he took her in he had become her father figure. She hardly knew what she'd have done without him.
At age sixteen, John, his brother, and another boy named Danny Caldwell found her in the woods. Just thinking about Danny again sent shivers down her spine. The three boys had been hunting when they stumbled upon her. She had almost gotten herself killed in the process of her discovery.
Another shiver shimmied down her back. "Are you cold?" Rev. O'Bryan asked, lending her his sweater.
"Thank you," she told him, pulling her arms through the oversized cardigan. That day still haunted her dreams. Eight years had passed, and she still had no recollection of her actual name or where she came from.
John and Michael brought her to the Reverend. He exhausted every avenue he could to help her but with no success. Giving up, he adopted her. He named her Angelique O'Bryan. He chose Angelique because he said she had dropped from the heavens and into their lives.
Several hours had passed. The last of the guests had made their way out of the hall. Angelique started to clean up. So intent on her task, she jumped when John spoke while standing behind her.
"Angel, I need to talk to you. Alone. Tonight. Are you free?"
Placing her hand on her pounding heart, she tried to calm herself. Although she couldn't decipher which scared her more, John's actions or his words. "I am supposed to work tonight at the shelter," Angelique began.
John's jaw immediately clamped shut. "Forget I asked," John told her through clenched teeth.
Before he could storm off, Angelique grabbed his arm. John looked down at her fingers splayed across his forearm. "You didn't allow me to finish. I called to arrange a replacement for tonight. It means I will have to work a double shift tomorrow, but I wanted to be here for you today."
