Her Saving Grace Novels & Stories

I don’t know what she’s doing, but she seems to, and I trust her to figure it out. I bow my head, like she is, and concentrate. I feel the blow of power as it erupts from Grace. I feel Lily as she spins around the front of Grace grabbing my other hand, pulling from my strength and pushing it into Grace. “Hold on, Grace.” Lily whispers as Grace screams. When Grace falls to the ground, Lily pulls us with her, continuing to give her whatever strength we can. When I look up, I realize that Grace has saved everyone. Everyone that was dead or dying on the field is waking up, as if they were merely unconscious.

another maid said with a light tone. “Oh, please,” Tabitha waves her off. I choked back a sob and swallowed the lump that had formed at the back of my throat. “Don't you agree with me?” She asked, sticking closer to my side. “Uh huh,” I replied absentmindedly. She was about to say something else when the door burst open. The words died in her mouth at the action and I was grateful to whoever it was from saving me from the awkward conversation. The air changed and silence draped over everyone, the only sound coming from the television.

“You don’t have much time, Mia. You’ve been given a second chance—use it wisely.” I took a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay. I’ll start by getting close to Hester. If I can gain her trust, I’ll have a way in.” Apollo smiled. “That’s the spirit.” But as I sat there, something else gnawed at me. Saving Emma wasn’t enough. If I didn’t do more—if I didn’t get through to her, find a way to change what happened—I would still be the same Mia. The one who lost control. The one who made all the wrong choices.

She bent down, hastily gathering the broken pieces of glass. “I’ll clean this up,” she said quickly. “And I’ll fetch you another drink. A more delicious one.” I watched her as she left the room, my stomach twisting with dread. I wrapped my hands around my body as a sudden mysterious gust of wind blew past me. Did Grace just save me from something that I wasn’t aware of?

She stood at the watchtower and pulled something from her pocket. A matching moon-crest pendant—its edge chipped, worn smooth by years of grief. She held it to her chest, lips barely moving. “I don’t hate you,” she whispered. “But I won’t save you either.” Below, Ironclaw thrived—its people rebuilding, its pups laughing. And Grace? She turned from the edge, the pendant still in hand, and walked back inside. There were no ghosts here. Only choices. And she would not look over her shoulder again.

Earlier tonight, after I’d saved the little girl, she had returned with two men who unlocked the storage room and pulled me out. Japheth Williams and Seth Williams, the two famous brothers of Williams Film Productions, had stood before me as I struggled to get up. The little girl I had saved happened to be their family. Everyone in the city knew Japheth Williams was disabled, but I couldn’t tell which of the brothers had stood before me. They kept their identities hidden so carefully that only their names were known. “I saved Angel because she was an adorable girl I couldn’t ignore,” I remembered telling them when they asked what reward I wanted.

Everyone had passed the trial. “That’s great,” I said, grinning. Asher crossed his arms, glancing down at me. “It wouldn’t have been possible without you.” My smile faltered. “I did nothing,” I forced my tone to stay light. “Grace was rescued because everyone did their best and put their lives on the line.”

she almost screamed. I didn't reply. I just stared at her like I didn't understand her question. “I'm asking you, Jessica!” She screamed now. “It's because of you, mom,” Grace answered. “Grace, no!” I tried to stop her, but it's too late. Sarah was already facing Grace's direction. “What do you mean by that??” She asked. “Jessica did that to save your life,” Grace replied. I watched Sarah stagger back a bit. “What did you….you…just say??” She stuttered.

Even the camera shutters stopped. Finally, the screen froze on an old file from the Appalachian Women in Business Scholarship Program. Name: Grace Walker. Birthplace: Red Creek, West Virginia. The photo attached was the same young woman outside the church. My grandmother. The real Grace Walker. The comments churned. [So the current Grace Hale is not Grace Walker?] [The letters are right there. He just said he rejected her.] [This isn't cheating. This is identity theft.] Henry pressed his lips into a thin line. His hand gripped the edge of the table. Sweat slid from his temple.

We were standing near the sidewalk, talking casually while waiting for the light to change, when something caught my attention. Movement. It was familiar and out of place. I turned my head slightly and there she was. Walking toward us. Alone. Her gaze unfocused, her expression distant, as though her thoughts were somewhere else entirely, somewhere far beyond the street she was walking on. She did not see the light. Did not see the cars. Did not see anything. She stepped forward—Right toward the road. My body reacted before I could think. I reached out and grabbed her stomach, pulling her back just as a car passed in front of us, the wind from it brushing against us sharply.