“I’m sorry,” Joanna said, reaching out to place her hand on Addison’s arm. “But it’s nice to know you care.”

“Of course, I care,” Addison said. “If...if something happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Well, the only thing happening to me tonight is a quick shower and then bed, but you, on the other hand, have some reading to do.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“No, I’m not talking fiction. I’m talking fact.”

“Sorry?”

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last night because you came home so late, and I forgot all about it until just now.”

“About what?”

“There are now three shelves in the library filled with information on your family.”

“What?”

“To make a long story, short, Evelyn had some boxes hidden away that belonged to your grandfather. Family history, Bibles, old ledgers, some photographs, things like that, and yesterday I sorted it all out and put everything in the library for you.”

“Three shelves?” Addison said, a grin overtaking her features in an instant.

Joanna adored hearing the excitement in Addison’s tone. “Yes, you can’t miss them,” she said, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Now go enjoy your family, sweetheart. I’m going to get some sleep.”

As soon as Joanna walked into the bedroom, Addison trotted down the stairs, stopping long enough to grab the second scotch from the table before striding to the library.

***

Addison stood before the bookcase, running her fingers over the Bibles bound in cowhide and goatskin. In every shape, size, and color, they filled one shelf and overflowed onto another, leaving the rest of the space for historical ledgers, journals, and dilapidated photo albums.

She pulled a long, narrow ledger from the row and carefully opening its pages, she scanned the cursive written with quill and ink. Smiling as she read the ridiculously low prices listed for items purchased, Addison pulled a few more ledgers from the case and sat down. Propping her feet on an ottoman, she took a sip of her drink and then became lost in time.

Three hours later, Addison returned from her study carrying a decanter of scotch. She refilled her glass, and putting the bottle aside, she turned and stared at the row of Bibles across the way.

Addison had learned about Christ from Evelyn. Through Sunday morning games and puzzles, quizzes and discussion, they would hunker over her desk, reading from an annotated children’s Bible overflowing with pictures meant to keep a child’s attention. She was taught God was good. Unwavering in his love, sinners were forgiven, and those who had wandered were welcomed back into the fold without question, and Addison believed. She believed in goodness and faith, and hope and love, but on one heinous night when she was eleven, one night of terror that still haunted her dreams, God ceased to exist for Addison.