BooksBarbecue
Back When She Returned Save as PDF
Chapters (48)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT
  3. CONTENTS
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. THIRTY-SEVEN
  42. THIRTY-EIGHT
  43. THIRTY-NINE
  44. FORTY
  45. FORTY-ONE
  46. FORTY-TWO
  47. FORTY-THREE
  48. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Maybe this was exactly what we needed to help lift the spirits around camp. As Abner got more and more frustrated with the lack of new children, his intolerance for our failures grew every day. The spirit around camp grew heavier and darker with all these drills and exercises. He was convinced that the outsiders would come upon us unexpectedly, and we’d be unprepared for their attacks. It was this unpreparedness that drove him mad like none other.

I flexed the muscles in my arms instinctively and felt the tight string pull back. All his calisthenics were working. I was in the best shape of my life, but all that was about to change, because there was no way he’d make me still participate in all the physical activities and other drills. Everything was going to change with this new life inside me, and as proud as I should’ve been about being chosen to carry his seed, I couldn’t shake the fear creeping in around the edges.

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY-FIVE

ABBI

NOW

I waited to go back downstairs until Mom and Dad were down there, because I wasn’t about to get cornered by Meredith again, but she was so busy cooking breakfast that she didn’t notice me as I joined everyone in the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re here,” Mom said as I slid into the seat next to her. “Good.” She cleared her throat. Then cleared it again. “Can I talk to everyone?”

Dad sat across from us and set his phone down to give her his full attention. Meredith stopped what she was doing and came to stand behind his chair, still holding the spatula. Mom’s legs shook underneath the table. I found her hand and took it in mine, giving it a squeeze. Whatever it was, we’d get through it. That was what families did.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I am so grateful.” She kept her eyes focused on the syrup in the middle of the table while she spoke. “The thing is—I’m such a burden. I don’t want to do that to your family—”

I interrupted her. “What are you talking about, Mom? You’re our family.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes misted, and she struggled to keep it together. “But I’ve been thinking it might be time to find my own place to live so that you can have your lives back.”

Dad reached across the table and took her other hand in his. “Stop talking like that. You’re not any kind of a burden to us. We’ve never thought of you that way.”