Page 50 of Fierce Hope
“Let’s take fifteen minutes,” Kent announced after they’d covered the major budget items. “When we return, we’ll discuss the sanctuary carpet replacement options.”
Board members broke into small clusters, some heading for the coffee and cookies at the side table. Jade busied herself organizing her notes, keenly aware of glances being cast her way.
“That was interesting,” Deke murmured, approaching her table while others were distracted.
“Thurston’s reaction?” she asked quietly.
“Among other things.” His eyes flicked meaningfully toward Kent Wycoff, who was engaged in conversation with Pastor Dan. “I’m stepping out to update the team.”
As Deke slipped out, Jade noticed Sarah hovering uncertainly near the door. The young woman’s eyes were red-rimmed, her normally cheerful face drawn with worry.
Jade approached her, concerned. “Sarah? Are you okay?”
“Can we ... ?” Sarah gestured toward the small office adjacent to the conference room.
Once inside, Sarah’s composure crumbled. “I just found out,” she said, tears welling. “About Chad. That he was the one ... stalking you. I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Sarah pressed a hand to her chest. “I feel like I do. I should have warned you about him.”
“You had no idea he was stalking me. I didn’t even know until a couple days ago.”
Sarah nodded miserably. “I know. And thanks for that. I just … We dated. I broke up with him over a year ago. He was ...” she hesitated, “violent. Controlling. I never thought ... if I’d had any idea he would target you, I would have said something.”
Understanding dawned. “That’s how Gillian found him,” Jade murmured, pieces clicking into place.
“What?” Sarah looked confused.
“Nothing,” Jade shook her head, refocusing on the distressed young woman. “Sarah, this isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
“But I should have warned someone what he was capable of,” Sarah insisted, wiping at her tears. “Especially after I started volunteering here.”
Jade touched Sarah’s arm gently. “You’re not responsible for his actions. You got yourself out of a dangerous situation. That took courage.”
She knew too well how shame could silence victims, how the past could become a cage if you let it.
“Thank you,” Sarah whispered, visibly relieved. “I was so afraid you’d hate me.”
“Never,” Jade assured her. “But I am glad you’re safe now.”
As Sarah left, Jade considered this new information. Gillian Wycoff had hired Chad Delgado. Chad had dated Sarah. Was it coincidence, or had Gillian specifically sought out someone with a connection to the church? And if so, why?
Lost in thought, she almost collided with Kent Wycoff as board members began filtering back into the room.
“Ms. Villanueva,” he said, his voice pitched low enough that others couldn’t hear. He held her gaze with an intensity that made her instinctively straighten her spine. “You have an apology coming. I can’t make it now, not until the upcoming ... legal proceedings ... get resolved, but for now, I just want to say I’m pleased you’re unharmed.”
Before she could respond, he turned and walked back to his seat at the head of the table, leaving her confused. Was he apologizing for his wife’s actions? Or for something else entirely?
The second half of the meeting passed in a blur. Kent steered the discussion with practiced efficiency, firmly redirecting whenever conversations threatened to veer into controversial territory. Thurston remained subdued after Kent’s earlier intervention, offering only minimal comments on the carpet replacement debate that consumed the final thirty minutes.
Jade presented the remaining financial information on autopilot, her mind spinning with new questions. The simple explanation—that Gillian Wycoff had hired Chad Williams to harass her—suddenly felt incomplete.
Why would Gillian target her?
Sarah’s revelation added another layer, and Kent’s cryptic apology suggested depths she couldn’t fathom.
As the meeting adjourned, she gathered her materials slowly, watching Deke in conversation with Pastor Dan across the room. He looked strangely at ease, even though a church board meeting couldn’t be less aligned with a special-ops background. She imagined how he might appear at future gatherings, not as a bodyguard but as a partner. The fantasy nearly broke her.
