Page 167 of Sing with Me

To Skye, the happy memories remained. She chose to remember the good times she had with Diehl. It was all she could do. There was enough stress at work that the last thing she’d want to do was to layer personal stress on top of her professional strains.

If Diehl didn’t return to her, she would have to move on. All she asked was that he never said goodbye.

No goodbyes.

Diehl waved at the camera. “Earth to Skye? Are you there? Over.”

Skye blinked away the tears, and looked back at the camera on her phone.

“It was sad. All those kids they found nearby,” Diehl said. “The DHS is having a world of a time determining where the kids came from and where to send them back to.”

“Were they certain Romina has nothing to do with them?” Skye asked.

“Well, she’s not part of the trafficking ring, but she took Elisa there to get passport photos and fake foreign passports so that they could fly to Italy under assumed names. She’s cooperating with DHS to try to get her charges reduced.”

Skye could not believe that Elisa’s former nanny would take money from the Bishops to do the evil deed. If Hans had not cracked under the persuasive pressure of one Earl Young, Elisa would have still been lost to the family.

“We all know it’s not worth the fifty thousand that the Bishops paid Romina,” Skye. “Why do this when you could lose access to your grandkids forever?”

“To his benefit, Wilson didn’t know anything about it.”

“How can a husband not know what his wife is doing?” Skye said it before she realized she probably shouldn’t have. “You’re saying that Zeta somehow has a secret stash of fifty-thousand dollars of cash lying around her pineapple plantation, unbeknownst to her husband of forty years?”

Diehl was silent.

Skye couldn’t tell if he looked hurt or whether he was in deep thought.

“I’m sorry,” Skye said. “It just came out.”

“No. You’re right. I should have been more aware of what Isobel was doing all those years.”

“Diehl, I was talking about the Bishops.”

“Like mother, like daughter.”

“Don’t let the dead of the past bury your present and kill your future. At my brother’s wedding, the pastor said the marriage ends at death, ‘until death do us part.’ Isobel is dead. Your marriage is over.”

“Is that scriptural? I know they say it at weddings, but…”

“Look it up.”

“Okay.” He swiped his phone. “Interesting. Here are two similar verses. I’ll read the one in Mark 12:25. ‘For when they rise from the dead, they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven.’ So you are right. Until death do us part.”

Skye thanked God that Diehl was growing spiritually. Diehl had mentioned in his texts earlier today that he had been listening to Pastor Gonzalez’s past sermons as he exercised in the gym. He had also been enjoying the hymns on his sister’s playlist.

Truly, Diehl needed to study the Bible more.

So do I.

“Are you going to stay in Atlanta for the rest of summer?” Skye asked.

“Pastor Gonzalez prayed with me this afternoon and he asked the same question. Said that if that’s the case, I might consider taking the kids to Midtown Chapel, where they have grief counselors. Did you know that Midtown is a sister church to Seaside Chapel? Of course, you knew.”

Skye nodded. “Seaside is also a sister church to Riverside Chapel in Savannah.”

“Really?”

“Yep. My sister-in-law’s parents attend Midtown, so you might see them. Her dad plays the harp in the orchestra.”

---