Page 103 of Last Chance Christmas
She changed into her work uniform, then grabbed her phone and headed to the kitchen.
“Hey, Google, play my daily song mix.”
Kianna took out a bowl from the cupboard, then measured out oatmeal.
“O Holy Night” rang through the space, and Kianna stopped pouring the almond milk into the dish and smiled.
Yes, Lord. I hear You.
She set the timer on the microwave to heat up her breakfast, then leaned against the counter.
The chorus broke out, and the woman’s voice built in anticipation. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.
That was where her true hope lay. In Christ.
She could rejoice today, and even this holiday season, because of Jesus.
Is it possible to delight in the hope of You alongside someone else, Lord? Maybe even with Cole?
The timer beeped, and Kianna cupped her hands around the warm bowl, steam rising off the top.
She didn’t know whether things would ever work with Cole. But she was certain of one thing: With God, nothing was impossible. He would give her hope and contentment no matter what the future brought.
After adding cinnamon and a drizzle of honey, she sat down and took a bite.
She could always text Cole and see how the case was going, whether they’d gotten any closer to Mackey’s whereabouts. There was also time before her shift to stop over at Tiny Paws and drop off a few goodies for the extra pets that would be boarded there for the holiday until the adopt-a-pet event was rescheduled. It would give her a chance to poke around the place for a bit, maybe even talk to the manager.
Her instincts told her that what Rainy had overheard about the canine currency had something to do with the animals.
A knock sounded on her door.
Kianna rinsed out her bowl, then put it in the dishwasher.
The knock sounded again, this time faster, harder. “Coming!” she yelled.
Kianna opened the door. “Victoria, what’s wrong?” The woman lived in Kianna’s neighborhood, and they occasionally saw each other taking walks, but they weren’t close.
The woman’s face was pinched, and tears dried on her cheeks. “Hurry, please.” She reached out her hand and took hold of Kianna’s wrist. “The car. I…” The woman hiccupped. “I was leaving the development on my way to work, and I saw Mackey. Cole tried to stop him, but he—” She pointed behind her.
Kianna squinted against the sun that shone off the snow-covered grass. A Blazer, like the one she and Cole had used yesterday, was parked by the curb.
Was that Cole’s car? Had he found a lead in this area? “Is Cole hurt? Or Mackey? Hang on.” Kianna closed the front door a crack so she could open the hall closet and pull out a spare first aid kit.
She put on her jacket, grabbed her purse and the medical supplies, then closed the front door. “Where are they?” Kianna’s pulse sped up.
“It’s not Mack…” Victoria shook her head. “It’s Cole. He hit Cole.”
Kianna stilled. “No.” Please, God, don’t let it be critical.
“Mackey hurt him. I can’t tell how bad it is.” Victoria’s brow furrowed.
Kianna broke off into a jog, Victoria at her heel.
Her lungs burned from the cold air.
Kianna sidestepped a patch of ice on the sidewalk and almost barreled into the side of the car.
Victoria’s shoes crunched through the snow behind her, but Kianna blocked out the other woman.
