“I’m sticking with my original judgment—this is a terrible idea.” He huffed.

I would’ve had the same reaction if the situation were reversed, but I trusted Scott’s judgment. He wouldn’t do anything to put us in harm’s way.

KATE

THEN

I hurried to make it on time to my second interview session with Ray. Leo was still annoyed about how things had gone before, but he couldn’t get too upset, since I’d hit it out of the park with the other big story he’d assigned me—the girls’ soccer coach who’d just been fired from Middleton High School for sending inappropriate pictures of himself to a girl on his team. I had uncovered a list of prior offenses before anyone else, and the article had quickly made national news. But it didn’t make up for how terrible things had gone with this story, and I was determined to do better.

I walked in the front doors without knocking and quickly made my way through a meeting in progress, doing my best not to disturb them, and hurried down the rows of rooms until I reached Ray’s at the end. His door was wide open, and he got up from his desk at the sight of me. He rushed toward me and threw his arms around me before I had a chance to protest. “Hi, Kate. It’s so good to see you again.” He quickly pulled away and motioned to the chair in front of his desk, where I’d sat before. “Have a seat. Let’s get started.”

He left the door open behind us, which felt strange. It shouldn’t have, but something about it just didn’t feel right.

“Does the door open make you uncomfortable?” he asked, instantly picking up on it.

I wasn’t going to let him throw me off so easily this time. “I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.”

He lifted both his hands, palms up like he was a magician showing me there wasn’t anything up his sleeves. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Perfect. Then should we get to it?” I asked, not giving him any time to gain control of the questions. I pulled my tape recorder out of my purse and set it on the desk. “Do you mind if I record this?” I asked. He nodded his agreement before I continued. “What do you have to say to your critics who think you only get people clean so that they can work for you for free?”

He balked, taken off guard, but recovered quickly with a smile. “Okay, I see where you’re going now. I don’t have anything to say to my critics.”

“Not even those who’d call you a cult?”

He burst out laughing. “We’re not a cult.”

“How would you describe yourself then?” I asked and quickly added, “In one sentence.”

He rubbed his chin while he thought. “We’re a social justice movement committed to spreading the love of Christ to all.” He leaned across his desk. “Are you familiar with Matthew twenty-five?”