Chapter 27
June
The man in the church wasn’t Abel—or at least, we weren’t sure it was Abel.
No…Abel was too smart for that. When we looked back at the footage, and later sent it over to sheriff, the intruder was wearing a mask. They walked to the church from somewhere down Main, pulled some pantyhose over their face, then stepped into the church just a few minutes after I had.
It sent a chill down my spine to watch it again…but more than that, it made me angry.
Because these guys…they weren’t going to leave us alone until they were forced to. They were going to terrorize us until we made it clear this was our town and our church.
And I was starting to think I knew exactly how to do that.
We gathered the best way I knew how: at our church, All Souls, over homemade desserts and coffee.
Me, Silas, Rhett and Willow, Beau, Delilah, Whit.
The church ladies, who had become maybe some of the best friends I’d ever had, despite the decades between us.
Even a few folks from town came: Jasmine and Caleb Evers, Loretta’s grandson and his wife; Mabel, who couldn’t resist the inside scoop on town gossip; Cooper and Jamie Wright, who were eager to keep the Remnant out of the town where they wanted to live peacefully and raise their kids; and Flora Hardwick, Jamie’s cousin who lived deep in the woods, a witchy woman I’d never expected to set foot in my arguably very witchy church.
“This feels comfortable and all,” Silas said as we sat down at the edge of the circle of chairs we’d assembled, “but I’m still not sold on this bein’ a good idea.”
“Well…the other day you told me that we were doing this, so…”
He lowered his voice. “I was inside you at the time.”
“And that negates the promise how…?” I reached over to pat his hand. “I hate to say it, but you’re going to have to get used to my crazy plans.”
He smiled. “I already love your crazy plans—even if they scare the hell out of me.”
I looked over the gathered townsfolk, my heart warming at the ragtag group we’d put together.
The Ward family, formerly cursed, now growing.
..Loretta Evers, the natural matriarch of our little congregation, bringing all her righteous rage and a lifetime of fighting for equality.
The church ladies flanking her, ready to march with their best friend.
This was church. This was God.
This was holy.
“It doesn’t have to be scary,” I said, looking back at the man I loved. “All these wonderful folks have our back. We’re not alone.”
Silas was still nervous—I could see the fear written all over his face—but he nodded. “I know.”
And really…we’d never been alone.
Even when it felt like things were darkest, Amelia had been there.
I took a deep breath and stood, carefully setting an empty plate littered with lemon bar crumbs on my chair. All eyes turned my way and I cleared my throat, looking around.
“I just wanted to start this out by thanking y’all for coming,” I said. “I..hm. I know this isn’t what most of y’all expected when you heard we were bringing the church back to Willow Grove—and I sure didn’t think I’d be preaching here, especially not like this.”
A few chuckles rippled through the room.
“But here we are,” I continued. “And I’ve got to say…it feels right, doesn’t it? To be here in fellowship with you all, with this common goal of maintaining peace and openness in our little town. Making it a great place to live. Keeping it that way.”
Loretta fixed her eyes on me and nodded, encouraging me to keep going.
“I’m new to this town, of course, but I grew up in a church like the Remnant Fellowship,” I said.
“So I know…they push you. They force you to be a certain kind of way, a certain kind of person, a certain creed and color. They make you think loving is wrong, and they shame you when you make choices they don’t agree with.
And to me…that is not godly. I think, to all of you, it’s not godly either. ”
A quiet murmur of agreement passed through the circle—Delilah huffing out a pissed off breath and crossing her arms, Rhett tipping his chin. Flora, who was still standing at the edge of the room, watching and listening closely.
I’d presented the problem; now they were waiting on the solution.
“So we’re going to show them they aren’t welcome,” I said.
“Not using their methods…not using terror or anything like that. We’re gonna go to their revival, outside town.
We’ll be there together. If you don’t feel safe…
I understand, and you don’t have to come.
The sheriff’s office has been notified, and they agreed to send a deputy out, but…
I know not everyone here has a great experience with the county police, so I get it, I do.
But I’ll be there, and I hope a few of you feel safe enough to join me. ”
I paused for a breath, letting the silence settle. A few folks nodded, some exchanging easy uneasy glances like they weren’t sure how exactly this would help.
“And…” I continued. “This is the part that doesn’t leave this room. While we’re there…a few of our more enterprising friends are going to poke around. Look for some stuff we believe might finally give the sheriff what he needs to shut them down for good.”
Whit snorted. “Enterprising, huh?”
Delilah shoved him. “Just take the compliment, you fuckin’ criminal.”
Francine let out a big belly laugh, shaking her head. “Finally putting Whit Ward and Delilah Jessup’s talents to good use, huh?”
“I have other talents!” Delilah interjected.
“I distinctly remember you having very sticky fingers when it came to Hazel Ward’s jewelry box,” Francine shot back.
Delilah grinned and wiggled her fingers. “What can I say? I’m resourceful.”
“You’re a menace,” Birdie muttered affectionately, passing her a napkin. “A very cute menace, but a menace all the same.”
I smiled at the back-and-forth but lifted my hands to quiet them. “All right, all right. Let me be clear—none of y’all are being asked to do anything but show up. That’s it. You come, you sit through the revival, and you let them see your face.”
“And what’ll that do?” Cooper asked, brow furrowed.
“It’ll send a message,” I said. “That they don’t get to slide back in here without pushback. That the people of Willow Grove don’t want them here—not in our community, not preaching fire and brimstone under a tent just outside of town. Not again. Not ever.”
Loretta spoke next, her voice strong and sure. “There’s power in presence. That’s how we’ve always done it—show up, stand firm, make it known that you’re not afraid. You don’t need a weapon to make your point. You need witnesses.”
I nodded, grateful for her backing. “Exactly. We don’t want a scene.
We don’t want a fight. We want them to see that we are not backing down.
We want them to know that their grip is broken, and we’re not letting them twist it back around this town’s throat…
that we can sit quietly and politely and listen to their message and still say no. ”
There was a quiet murmur of agreement. Even those who looked uneasy weren’t pushing back.
So it was settled; we would take on the Remnant with grace.
After a few final questions—mostly about timing, directions, and who’d bring the folding chairs—the crowd began to break up. The church filled with the usual after-meeting buzz of scraping chairs, leftover cookies disappearing into napkins, and the occasional “I’ll text you when I know for sure.”
Silas wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You did good, baby,” he murmured. “I’m proud of you.”
I leaned back into him, letting myself feel it—his arms, the support, the strange peace that came from knowing we had a plan. It wasn’t foolproof. But it was something.
Across the room, Loretta and Francine had already pulled Mabel into a conversation I was sure would result in several phone trees and at least one scandal.
Beau and Whit were deep in discussion, probably about strategy disguised as sibling banter.
Delilah was halfway to the kitchen with an empty tray when I noticed Flora still standing near the door.
She hadn’t taken a seat. Hadn’t spoken.
But now she was watching me.
I gave Silas a quick squeeze and stepped away, padding over to her.
“You okay?” I asked softly.
Flora gave a small nod, her expression unreadable. “You spoke well,” she said. “Clear-headed. With conviction. It’s good, what you’re doing.”
I felt a prickle of uncertainty. “But you’re not coming.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head gently. “That’s not where I’m needed.”
I opened my mouth, not sure what I meant to say—but she was already reaching into the satchel slung over her shoulder. She pulled out a small glass vial, stoppered with wax and twine, something dark and glittering swirling inside.
“I won’t be there in person,” Flora said, pressing it into my hand, “but I’ll be there all the same.”
My fingers curled around it instinctively, and it felt…warm, like it was alive. I almost blanched at the strange sensation as it buzzed up my arm, but I knew on some bone deep level that this was for safety—not for harm.
“Thank you,” I said, though I wasn’t sure what I was thanking her for.
“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “And for what it’s worth…even if you and Silas were doing this alone, she wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe.”
“She?” I asked.
Flora’s smile deepened. “You know who I’m talking about.”
Then she winked and just…left.
I stood there for a long moment, listening to the sounds of the others behind me—laughter, chatter, the shifting of chairs and shoes on wooden floors, all the life we’d gathered under one roof.
Silas came to stand beside me, slipping his hand into mine, and his brow furrowed when he saw the little bottle clutched in my other hand.
“Huh,” he said. “Flora give you that?”
“Yeah,” I said. “She’s…she’s a little spooky, huh?”
Silas snorted. “People say the same thing about me.”
I met his eyes. “Right—so can you explain what this is?”
He extended his hand, palm up, and I dropped the bottle into it. Silas lifted it to his eyes and inspected it, humming. “Looks like…black salt, a chunk of quartz, touch o’ rosemary. And…a feather? For protection.”
I huffed a laugh. “Even working with Delilah back in New Orleans, I can’t say I’ve ever been given…what, witch soup?”
Silas chuckled. “Better than moonshine.”
“Barely.”
He handed it back to me with care, closing my fingers over it. “Keep it on you, baby. Pocket, bra, boot…don’t matter. I’ll feel better with you havin’ it.”
“Okay,” I said. “And…Silas, she said something else.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “Flora told me ‘she won’t let anything happen to us.’ Not Flora, I mean…I think she meant Amelia.”
Silas blew out a breath. “So…we’re not the only ones who can see her.”
I shook my head. “Guess not.”
We both went silent for a moment, looking toward the sanctuary threshold like Amelia might appear any second. Then I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head again.
“Your town is weird, Silas,” I said, looking up at him.
Silas smiled.
“I think you mean our town,” he said. “And yeah…it really is.”