9. Romans 8:28 says: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” How did God work Kate’s circumstances for good, despite her bad choices? In what ways has God worked your circumstances for good?

An Excerpt from the Goodbye Bride

An Excerpt from The Goodbye Bride by Denise Hunter

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Lucy Lovett had barely opened her eyes when she took notice of the pain hammering at the back of her head. She groaned, her fingers finding the tender spot, a lump that pushed up through her thick brown hair.

She closed her eyes again as other details registered. Her cheek, pressed to a cold, hard surface. A girdle-like squeeze in her middle. Pinched toes.

The squeak of shoes sounded somewhere in the distance, then a thud. Cool air whooshed over her.

Someone gasped. “Oh no! Miss? Miss, you okay? Oh mercy.”

Lucy opened her eyes, rolling over, the lump connecting with the hard surface. “Ow.”

Her gaze drifted over the water-stained ceiling tiles, then fell to the chubby cherub-like face of a middle-aged brunette.

“How many fingers?” the woman said.

Three thick fingers blocked Lucy’s vision.

“Whatever happened?” she asked.

“Oh dear, you don’t remember?”

Lucy’s gaze bounced around the room. Gray stalls, a speckled floor, two porcelain sinks, their rusty guts exposed from her vantage point. Her eyes lit on a yellow folded sign on the floor nearby. Caution! Slippery When Wet, it warned above a stick figure doing the slippety-do.

“I fell.”

Didn’t she? She must’ve. Why else would she be lying prone on the floor—wet, she realized now, as the dampness registered—with a lump on her head? She winced as her hand found the bump again.

“Can you get up? Oh, have you hit your head? Maybe we should call 911.”

“No!” Just the thought of the hospital had her sitting up. “See, I’m just . . .” Her eyes dropped to her lap and took in the frothy white skirt. She followed the delicate beading up the bodice to her bare shoulders. Her thoughts raced, searching for answers, but all she found were scrambled puzzle pieces.

“Well, who are you here with? I’ll let them know what happened.”

“I—I’m alone.” Wasn’t she? Why couldn’t she remember?

“Let’s call somebody then. Your groom perhaps? I’ll get some ice for that head, then we’ll call. He must be worried silly.”

The woman bustled out the door while Lucy tried to assimilate the facts floating through her ringing head. It couldn’t be her wedding day. That just made no sense whatsoever. It was over a month away. Maybe this was just her fitting. But why didn’t she remember a single thing? Why didn’t she remember getting into the gown or coming here or falling?

Think, Lucy. Think.