Sara Williams yearns for a tranquil existence as she
embraces her new life as a teacher and wife. Her ultimate desire is to
cultivate a sense of security and simplicity alongside her husband, Scott.
But the escape of a notorious convict, Randy Meyers,
disrupts Sara's and Scott’s newfound stability, unleashing a wave of fear and
uncertainty.
While danger looms, Sara is offered an unforeseen
opportunity that threatens her future with Scott. Amidst the chaos of
Christmastime, Sara and Scott's love is put to the ultimate test. With each
twist and turn, they must decide: will they let fear dictate their destiny, or
will they embrace the unknown with open arms?
The heart that beats the hardest is the one that refuses
to bleed out hope. Dive into Sara’s world and witness the true mettle of the
Christmas spirit.
Excerpt
Copyright ©2024, Tricia T.
LaRochelle
“Can we have our snacks now, Mrs. Williams?” Trina, my petite student with short, blond hair asked with a hopeful spark in her greenish-blue eyes.
“Sure.” I stood. “Go ahead
and grab your snacks and sit at your desks for snack time. But wash your hands
first. Knowing the drill, my students made their way to the bathroom to scrub
up. Thankfully, they never seemed to mind.
“I’ll continue reading our
first Magic Tree House book, Dinosaurs
Before Dark.” I made my way to the story corner where a cushy carpet
covered the floor, and a small bookcase displayed our class selections. With
book in hand, I dragged a stool to the front of the room. “Do you all remember
where we left off?” This was always a good way to see how much they had
retained from a previous reading.
But before anyone could
answer me, my walkie-talkie crackled to life on my desk. I lifted my index
finger. “Hold that thought. I'll be right back.”
Oblivious, the students
opened their respective snacks and drinks, chatting with each other about the
dodgeball game while I grabbed my walkie-talkie. Giselle hovered near the
students in case anyone needed help opening a chip bag or a juice box.
I lifted the walkie-talkie
close to my ear and heard what sounded like Principal Robbins say, “Lockdown.
This is not a drill. Code 3. Shelter in Place. Follow protocol.” My heart leapt
into my throat. Code 3 meant there was a possible threat on campus!
Holy crap!
From within my desk, my
cell phone, which remained on vibrate, blew up a moment later. I pulled open
the drawer and scanned the warning texts from the school as well. Another
protocol. There was no chance I’d misunderstood, though I’d held onto that hope
for a brief moment.
Trying to ignore my racing
heart, I grabbed my lockdown binder and flung it open to the procedural page.
“Giselle, can you read to the students for me?” I rushed over and handed her
the book, trying to stay calm.
“What’s going on?” she
mumbled, one of her hands half-covering her mouth.
About Tricia T. LaRochelle
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