Waiting for Morning

  She turned to another page and held up a portrait of Alicia. “You killed my little girl, too. My precious firstborn.” She looked up and met Brian’s gaze. “You wouldn’t know anything about someone like Alicia—” Hannah glanced toward Jenny—“Or my other daughter … Jenny. Because people like you, selfish alcoholics who think nothing of taking a life … people like you don’t have anything in common with people like my girls.” She looked down at her notes and then back at Brian. “Alicia was beautiful, inside and out. She would have done anything for anyone and usually she did. You killed her and …”

  That was as far as she got. She began sobbing. Unable to hold back the sorrow, she put head down in her hands.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there, weeping, but when she felt someone at her elbow, she lifted her head and saw Matt with a box of tissues. He placed a supportive hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. Hannah met his eyes and nodded.

  Sitting straighter, she sniffed and blew her nose. There were things she needed to say, and she had to say them now, to Brian Wesley’s face, or she would spend the rest of her life angry at missing the opportunity.

  Peace. After this I’ll have peace. She glanced at the judge. “I’m sorry.”

  Judge Horowitz nodded, his eyes compassionate. “That’s all right, Mrs. Ryan. Please continue.”

  Hannah nodded and swallowed. Then she caught Brian Wesley’s eyes once more and finished. “You killed Alicia, and any children she may have borne. You killed her family … because of—of your selfish choice. You killed her future.” She shuffled pages until she was staring at the third page. “I no longer have a husband. I no longer have my oldest daughter. And my youngest daughter, Jenny—” tears coursed down her face but she continued—“Jenny has suffered severely because of this. She will not have her sister to share the future with.… She will not have a father to walk her down the aisle when she gets married.”

  Hannah looked up and found she still had Brian’s attention. “For a long time I hated God because of what you did. Now I know I was wrong about that. This wasn’t God’s fault, it was yours.” She was nearing the end, and she leaned forward again, spewing hatred with every word. “You … you are a despicable human being. Worthless … hopeless … heartless … without any concern for the lives of those around you.”

  Hannah, Hannah, Hannah …

  What was the Lord trying to tell her? Why now? Hannah pushed the thoughts away. Whatever it was, she would have to worry about it later.

  When she continued, her voice was slightly more controlled. “Today, before this courtroom, I am asking Judge Horowitz to hand down the stiffest, most severe punishment he can legally assign. You are an animal, a ruthless, cold-blooded killer who will kill again and again until someone locks you up.”

  She drew a trembling breath, and when she spoke again her voice was a snakelike hiss, each word pronounced with increasing rage. “I hope you rot in hell, Mr. Wesley. Because I will never …”

  Hannah!

  “—ever … forgive you for what you took from me.”

  Brian hung his head. Hannah collected her scrapbook and excused herself from the witness stand. There. She had done it. But instead of the peace she had hoped to feel, she felt choked by the same emotion that had strangled her since the accident: merciless, bitter hatred.

  Thirty-four

  Moreover, our eyes failed, looking in vain for help;

  from our towers we watched for a nation that could not save us.

  LAMENTATIONS 4:17

  When Hannah said she wanted Brian Wesley to rot in hell, Matt linked his hands and lowered his head until it was resting on his fingertips. Lord, this can’t be what you want from Hannah. Help her, please. The anger is going to kill her.

  He let go a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair, knowing there was more to come.

  “Are there any other victims who wish to speak?” Judge Horowitz looked to Matt, and then Hannah.

  “No, your Honor.” Matt rose briefly and then sat back down. Brian Wesley was next, and Matt had a sudden urge to join Hannah, to put an arm around her and steady her. He couldn’t explain it, but he was sure she wasn’t going to like what Brian Wesley was about to say.

  “Very well.” The judge turned to Finch. “Would the defendant like to speak on his behalf?”

  “Yes, your Honor.” Brian Wesley made his way slowly to the witness stand. He hung his head and didn’t look up until he’d been sitting for several seconds. He had no notes.

  Dressed in jailhouse orange, his hair poorly cut, his body bent and rail thin, Matt thought the man looked the part Hannah had assigned him. A cold-blooded killer. A criminal who didn’t care who he hurt. But there was something in Brian Wesley’s eyes.…

  Brian lifted his head and searched the courtroom until he found Hannah, and Matt held his breath as Brian began to speak.

  “Mrs. Ryan, I agree with everything you just said. You’re right. It was all my fault, and I deserve my punishment.”

  Matt glanced once more at Hannah; she looked like a human fortress, arms crossed, body back against her chair, eyebrows lowered suspiciously.

  Please, Lord …

  Brian continued. “I am worthless, despicable, and untrustworthy on the streets of this city. But there is one thing I’m not. And that’s hopeless.” His gaze didn’t waver. “What I did was terrible and wrong, and before these witnesses today I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mrs. Ryan, really—” his voice broke—“if I could change it, I would. If I could go back …”

  As Matt watched and listened, he had the surest sense that Brian Wesley’s remorse was genuine. He looked at Hannah … did she see it, too? No, one side of her upper lip lifted, and she laughed without the slightest trace of humor.

  Brian went on, undaunted. “I can’t go back, Mrs. Ryan. But I am sorry. I’ll be sorry every day, the rest of my life. But I do have hope because of someone I met after my arrest … someone who’s here today. She told me about Jesus and how his blood had already paid the price for my horrible sins. I gave my life to him, Mrs. Ryan.”

  Hannah’s face lost all its color, and she looked frozen in icy shock.

  “That woman told me Jesus loved me even though I killed your husband and daughter. But she told me something else. She told me it was right for me to serve time here, now. In this life. I done the crime, and now I need to do the time. She’s been the best friend I could ever have hoped for. You know her. Carol Cummins.”

  Matt watched helplessly as Hannah was cut by the truth. After today Carol would be on Hannah’s hate list as well—and it would take all Hannah’s time, all her energy, and what was left of her beauty to tend to the bitter root that was even now spreading through her heart. His eyes shifted and fell on Jenny. She, too, looked stunned as she hung on to her mother’s arm.

  Brian rattled on about the virtues of Carol and how she had brought him a Bible and led him to the Lord, but Hannah was barely listening. Carol Cummins? The woman she had confided in nearly every day since the collision? Carol was … the enemy? Hannah turned in her seat and glared at Carol.

  Carol sighed and spoke in a whisper. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I wanted to tell you—”

  “Don’t talk to me!”

  The same sense of shock she’d felt when she first learned of the collision hit her again. Her entire world was suddenly upside down, and she wanted to grab Jenny’s hand and run from the courtroom.

  Brian Wesley was talking to her again.

  “I may be in prison for the rest of my days, Mrs. Ryan, and it serves me right. But believe me, I am a new man because God used Mrs. Cummins to change my life forever.” He paused and kept his eyes on Hannah’s. “I am sorry, Mrs. Ryan. I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life. And I don’t blame you if you never forgive me.”

  Brian finished, and Hannah had a hard time making her mouth work as she whispered to Jenny, “I’ll be in the hall.” The judge dismissed them for a fifteen-minute break, but Hannah was out of the co
urtroom before he finished speaking.

  Matt watched Hannah go. The moment he was free, he left the courtroom and found her staring out a dusty window, her arms crossed.

  “Hannah—”

  She spun around. “Were you in on this, too? This … this betrayal with Brian Wesley?”

  Matt wanted to pull her close and soothe away the shock, but not with reporters lurking nearby. He held her gaze and shook his head. “I knew nothing about it.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and turned back toward the window. Her voice was a strangled whisper. “How could she?”

  He had an answer, but not one Hannah was ready to hear. “Come on, let’s get back. It’s been almost fifteen minutes.”

  When they returned, Matt saw that Carol was gone. He wondered if the two women would ever speak again.

  They took their seats and waited.

  Less than a minute later, Judge Horowitz returned and shuffled through a slight stack of papers. “I have reached a decision—” he looked up and met Brian Wesley’s gaze—“young man, you have made some very poor choices in your life, and they resulted in a first-degree murder conviction. It is up to me to decide whether you should serve twenty-five years or longer for your crimes.

  “I considered the letters for and against you, listened to arguments in which people asked for the minimum sentence and the maximum. Before I read the sentence, I want you to know that I based my decision primarily on your history of drinking and driving. I believe you cannot be trusted with standard alcohol treatment programs or promises to stay away from the wheel of a car. I believe you are a dangerous and very real risk to this community. Because of that, I hereby sentence you to serve fifty years in the state penitentiary.”

  There was a rustling throughout the courtroom as the news sank in. Judge Horowitz had made legal history; he’d sentenced Brian Wesley to the longest prison term ever handed down for deaths by driving under the influence.

  Matt glanced at Hannah and saw she and Jenny hugging. He could tell by the way Hannah’s shoulders shook that she was crying. It was everything she had hoped for. A murder-one verdict and a record-breaking prison sentence. And yet …

  Hannah looked more heartbroken than ever. Please, God, help her …

  “Order …” The judge frowned at the crowd. “Order! Immediately!” He returned his gaze to Brian. “With time off for good behavior, it is possible you will be up for parole in fifteen years, but not sooner. That is all. Court dismissed.”

  Hannah knew the reporters were waiting. This was her big moment, the chance to tell the world thank you. She had won in every possible way except the one that really mattered.

  Tom and Alicia were still gone.

  And now there was something new that grieved her nearly as much as the loss of her family. If Brian Wesley was telling the truth, if Carol had indeed betrayed her and led him to the Lord, then no prison could contain him now. If he was a Christian, then he was saved by the blood of Christ, heaven-bound and free indeed. He might live a season behind bars, but he would spend eternity in a mansion. Worst of all, one day when Hannah was reunited with Tom and Alicia … Brian Wesley, the man she’d come to hate with a driving passion, would be there, too.

  It was the greatest injustice of all, and more than she could stomach. Carol’s betrayal felt like a javelin piercing her midsection. Jenny had to be feeling the same, but she hadn’t spoken a word. Maybe she didn’t understand the implications of what Brian had said.

  The courtroom buzzed with activity, and Jenny leaned against Hannah. “You did good, Mom. He won’t hurt anyone else.”

  Hannah squeezed her daughter’s hand and dabbed at her tears. She kept her eyes forward and watched while the bailiff came for Brian and led him away. This was it. The moment of peace.

  But it didn’t come.

  Instead Hannah felt strangled and angry and tired and betrayed.

  Brian wasn’t in prison. She was.

  She led Jenny into the hallway and answered a handful of questions from the media. Then she caught a glimpse of Carol leaving the courtroom. She must have sneaked back in before the sentencing, and now she was trying to get away without speaking to Hannah.

  She thanked the reporters and turned to Jenny. “Honey, I need to talk to someone. Why don’t you go wait over there with Mr. Bronzan.” She pointed to where Matt stood in the doorway of the courtroom, talking with several spectators.

  Jenny nodded and moved toward Matt. Ever since learning how he had saved her life, Jenny had opened herself to him. Now, just two weeks later, the two were fast friends.

  Once Jenny was safely in a conversation with Matt, Hannah raced down the hallway. Carol was about to board an elevator. “Wait!”

  Hannah expected Carol to be embarrassed, ashamed of what she’d done. Instead when Carol turned, her expression held no apologies. She waited while Hannah quickly closed the distance between them.

  They stood face to face, and Hannah felt her eyes fill with tears. “Is it true?”

  Carol did not blink. She nodded solemnly. “I had to, Hannah.”

  Hannah had fought so long and so hard she had little energy left for this battle, but somehow she summoned anger from the shards of her broken heart. She did not scream or rant, but there was venom in her voice. “You were supposed to be my friend.”

  “This isn’t the time …” Carol started to turn back toward the elevator.

  “Wait a minute! Don’t tell me this isn’t the time. You’re the one who broke my trust.”

  Carol sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand, Hannah. Not now, anyway.”

  Hannah’s hands flew to her hips. “I’ll never understand. I poured my heart out to you. I thought you were on my side.”

  Carol stared at Hannah, clearly puzzled. “Are you so far gone, Hannah, that you don’t remember the very basic truths of the faith?”

  She stared at Carol. What on earth was she talking about? “Don’t give me a sermon—” she waved her hand toward the window—“there are a million people out there looking for a savior, Carol. And you had to give the good news to Brian Wesley? Brian Wesley?”

  “I gave it to the person God asked me to give it to.” Carol hesitated. “After my husband died, I gave a Bible to the man who killed him. It was the only way I could finally let go and forgive. I’ve been giving Bibles to drunk drivers ever since.”

  Hannah was stunned. “From your office at MADD?”

  “No. From my office at Church on the Way. I head up the prison ministry there.”

  Carol might as well have punched her in the stomach. “Well, maybe you should have told me sooner so I could be prepared. Hearing Brian Wesley give you credit for his conversion—” Hannah spat the word—“was like getting news that Tom and Alicia had been killed all over again.”

  Carol sighed. “I’m sorry you feel that way. All I can tell you is my concern for you was, and is, genuine. Usually I don’t get involved with victims, but Sgt. Miller thought … oh, never mind. I never meant to do anything that would hurt you.”

  Hannah was speechless. “How did you think I’d react? Surely you didn’t expect me to fall facedown in the courtroom and praise God over one sinner repenting of his way. That man killed Tom and Alicia. He is a worthless human being.”

  Carol’s reply was so soft Hannah barely heard it. “Not to Jesus.”

  She clenched her teeth. “I have nothing else to say to you. You … You betrayed me. You’re on his side, not mine.” She leveled bitter eyes at Carol. “I hope heaven is a big place because I want to live eternity without ever seeing you or Brian Wesley.”

  Hannah didn’t wait for a reply as she left Carol standing there. She found Jenny and bid Matt good-bye.

  Matt looked concerned. “You okay? Want me to come with you?” Hannah smiled through her tears. At least he was genuine. He was the only friend she had, he and Jenny.

  “That’s all right.” The reporters were gone, and she leaned toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck
and resting her head on his chest. They had been through so much over the past year, she almost felt like she’d known him a decade or more. “Thank you, Matt. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done.”

  He pulled away and searched her eyes. “Would it be okay if I took you and Jenny out for dinner? It’d be a shame to stop spending time together now. Besides … I want to talk to you about Carol.”

  Hannah laughed bitterly. “After the past month I’d say we better make it dinner once a week.” She thought of Jenny and her voice grew serious. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  Jenny moved closer and hugged Matt’s waist. “Me, too, Mr. Bronzan. After I took the pills I prayed God would save me and he did. He sent you.”

  When she and her daughter left the courthouse minutes later, Hannah had a strong feeling something was missing. She checked her purse and found her car keys and her sunglasses. Then it hit her. She had expected to feel a sense of relief, to walk out of the courthouse that day a different woman. And in that light something was indeed missing. Hannah felt fresh tears as she realized what it was.

  It was peace.

  Thirty-five

  Restore us to yourself, O LORD, that we may return;

  renew our days as of old unless you have utterly rejected us

  and are angry with us beyond measure.

  LAMENTATIONS 5:21–22

  The plain white envelope lay on her front doorstep, tucked neatly under the welcome mat. Jenny had already gone upstairs to change clothes when Hannah spotted it and sighed. She didn’t know if she had the energy to pick it up. The day had been long, and she felt strangely defeated. The sense of victory and accomplishment had never come, and the peace she had so desperately sought had turned out to be as elusive as justice was.