Victor tackled her mom and landed on top, his hooded jacket billowing out like demon wings. Meanwhile, Perez stood by and watched, her face a blank slate. Despite a stark warning from her inner voice, Sarah Beth ran to the police detective.

“Don’t just stand there,” she shouted, shaking Perez by the arm while her mother thrashed and screamed beneath a chorus of demons. “Help her!”

Perez looked blankly at Sarah Beth, then at Victor, then turned back to Sarah Beth.

Their pupils met and Sarah Beth felt a connection.

A bridge.

She heard a pop and she was in the police detective’s mind. Not by sneaking, but by invitation. A torrent of memories streamed past Sarah Beth’s mind’s eye in a millisecond. Maria’s memories from when she was a little girl . . . terrible memories of a gentle, good-natured child neglected by her mother and beaten by her father. Despite the misery and abuse, she found her inner toughness. Maria was a survivor. A fighter. Once she was orphaned, her abuela did the best she could but was not equipped to help the hurt and angry teenager. Maria rebelled and fell. Then her abuela died and she was alone again and felt abandoned by the God her grandmother had taught her about. Sarah Beth witnessed it all. Felt the pain as if it had happened to her. The turn to darkness to find strength and sympathy. She ran away from foster care and rose in the hierarchy of troubled kids until her circles intersected with rougher kids in other circles. She joined a gang at fourteen. The drugs, the crime, the violence and abuse that broke her to the core . . . She ran from God for a desolate, angry, lonely life of sin . . .

Sarah Beth felt her eyes go wet and a tear chased down her cheek.

Resentment . . . so much resentment. And anger . . .

It’s not fair, a voice screamed in Maria’s mind, a desperate refrain echoing over and over and over.

No, it’s not fair, Sarah Beth said and pulled the other woman into an embrace—hugging her enemy’s rigid torso until the tension finally evaporated. She poured all her love and compassion into the detective’s mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what happened to you.

I am so ashamed . . . , Maria said, and Sarah Beth felt the woman’s body begin to shake with sobs.

You have nothing to be ashamed of . . .

Yes, I do, and it’s time I own my mistakes. It’s time I make amends. I’m sorry, Sarah Beth, for what I let happen to you. I’m sorry for not having the courage to protect you.

I forgive you, Sarah Beth said.

Please tell Jed that I could have loved him . . . that I wanted to love him.