Semua Bab Unholy December : Bab 1 - Bab 5

The Georgia snow fell like a warning.Ayana Marcus pressed her forehead against the cold window of the Greyhound bus, watching Millbrook emerge through the white flurry like a ghost town she'd tried to forget. Four years. Four years of freedom in Boston, of late nights and loud opinions, of being Ayana instead of Pastor Marcus's perfect daughter.And now she was back."Millbrook, final stop," the driver announced.Her stomach twisted as the town's main street came into view—unchanged, frozen in time. Patterson's Drug Store with its faded awning. Miller's Diner advertising pecan pie in peeling letters. And there, at the end of the street, the white steeple of her father's church rising against the grey December sky.The bus hissed to a stop. Ayana gathered her leather jacket—the one her mother would definitely have opinions about—and stepped into the cold. Snow caught in her newly cut hair, the shoulder-length waves a small rebellion her family hadn't seen yet."Ana!"Catherine burst t

The Millbrook Community Center looked different in daylight.Ayana stood outside the brick building, watching kids stream through the doors for the after-school program. Bright murals covered the exterior walls—children's hands reaching toward painted stars, words like HOPE and FUTURE in bold letters. She pushed through the doors into warmth and controlled chaos. The main room buzzed with activity—maybe thirty kids of various ages, half a dozen adults supervising. A bulletin board announced upcoming programs: job training, college prep, holiday food drive, winter clothing distribution."You must be Ayana!"A woman in her thirties approached. Raven Cole, according to her name tag. Volunteer Coordinator."Guilty," Ayana said, extending her hand. "My father said you could use help with the tutoring program?""Absolutely. We're always short-handed." Raven's gaze traveled over Ayana's jeans and fitted sweater—appropriate but not dowdy. "Your father speaks very highly of you. Says you stud

Nelson didn't show up for Sunday service.Ayana sat in the family pew, hyperaware of the empty space where he should have been. Her father kept glancing toward the door, frowning. Her mother whispered speculation about illness. Catherine shot Ayana knowing looks that she steadfastly ignored.But Ayana knew exactly why he wasn't there.Last night had changed everything. They'd kissed until her lips were swollen, touched until they were both shaking, whispered confessions that couldn't be taken back. He'd told her things about Sarah, about the accident, about twenty years of grief so heavy it had crushed the life out of him.And she'd held him while he broke apart.She'd left at dawn, both of them knowing they'd crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed. He'd walked her to her car, kissed her one more time soft, reverent, terrified."I don't know what happens now," he'd whispered against her lips."We figure it out together."But apparently "together" meant him avoiding church while she