Usually, Nora found the railroad tracks oddly comforting. Today, however, they were a distraction.

Nolan had finally stopped his discreet searches for hints of dismay, and she'd actually come close to convincing herself she was over it. So, her dad got drunk, screamed in her face, and broke her guitar. It was just because the anniversary was coming up in August. It hurt, yes, but she was fine.

She. Was. Fine.

Except, no matter how many times she repeated the notion, replaying it over and over in her head, all it would take was the sensation of her comforter being ripped off her body to send her reeling again. She'd be trapped in that moment, her dad's breath in her face, her guitar slamming into the wall. Pieces scattering across her floor.

The railroad tracks were just making everything worse. But where else was she supposed to go?

She desperately tried to distract herself with plans for next week's Sunday school lesson, but she could barely get a word into her notebook. Her fingers shook, her usually neat handwriting nearly illegible. Her leg bounced up, down, up, down, and no amount of deep breathing could stop her jitters.

She slapped her notebook shut and let out a deep, frustrated breath. Please. She squinted up at the sky, more connected to God through the scattered clouds than through the darkness of closed eyes. Please, help me find peace.

A few moments passed, and she was still shaky. Her stomach hurt.

Dammit.

Church. She just had to ride this out until church. There, she'd be home, and she'd have her friends. And Nolan.

The soft ding! of a text notification tore Nora from her reverie, and with a steady hand, she snatched her phone from the depths of her bag. A text from Willow greeted her.

Helloooo? We're here! Where are you?

"Crap!"

Sorry! Autocorrect, usually an enemy, was now another one of her best friends as her thumbs tore across the touchpad. I went for a walk. On my way.

She shoved her phone back into her bag and yanked the drawstrings shut. How could she have forgotten that she agreed to go to church early today? Nathan had to get there extra early for a meeting, and Willow didn't want to be stuck there by herself. So, she'd asked Nora if she wanted to tag along, Nora had said yes.

Crap, crap, crap, crap.

She sprinted down the road. For years, she'd managed to hide her ventures to this place. Having her friends know that she came here—and as often as she did—would only lead to unwanted questions. Now, because a change of plan had slipped her mind, Willow would see her bag and wonder, even if only distantly, why she would need that for a walk. Nora would give a perfectly constructed excuse if asked, and Willow would accept the words as true, but the question would still be there, in the background, for when Nora slipped up again.

Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe not. But the damage was done: she was more distressed than ever.

✝

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Nora looked away from her songbook, at Willow, who was sprawled across from her on the library's floor, flipping through a Young Adult fiction book from one of the shelves.

"Yeah," Nora said.

Willow narrowed her eyes, skeptical.

"Seriously, dude, I'm fine." She was actually pretty convincing.

Willow, however, was apparently determined to hold on to her suspicions, because she continued to stare. "You sure? You were just so...I don't know, frowny all the way here."

Nora laughed. "Frowny?"

"Better words could have been used, but cut me some slack, I'm functioning on two hours of sleep."

"What? Why?" she asked. Willow was a lover of many things, and sleep was definitely one of them.

"A book needed to be finished."

Ah. "Okay. Well, I wasn't frowny."

In reality, she had been less composed than she would have liked. She wasn't a mess, but she wasn't a ray of sunshine either. When the conversation lulled, she stared out the window, trapped in her head. When it started back up, it took a second for her to register someone was talking to her.

Why couldn't she shake this? It wasn't like her dad hadn't screamed at her and thrown things before. What was so different this time?

"Okay, I may be sleep-deprived, but I'm still hecka observant."

"Frowny and now hecka. Wait until Andy hears this."

Willow's eyes widened in horror. Nora wriggled her eyebrows.

Willow returned to her book, and Nora returned to her songbook. The topic had been shelved for now.

Eventually, the distant sounds of chatter brought their heads up. Was it nearing time for church already?

They hopped to their feet, and after Willow returned the book where she'd found it, they headed for the sanctuary. Andy and Max were already there. Nora took no time at all telling them about Willow's beautiful word choices.

"Wait. Hold up." Andy thrust his hands upward. "Hecka. Willow Sison actually said hecka."

Willow pressed a hand to her forehead. Nora, Andy, and Max grinned.

"Say it again," Andy said.

"You can't prove I said it at all," Willow said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Nora gasped.

"Well, she's not calling you a truther," Max said.

In a normal circumstance, Willow would have been able to keep a straight face. But with only two hours of sleep, the Drake & Josh reference was too much for her. She burst out laughing, so loudly that a few middle-aged women looked away from their own conversation.

"Is Willow dying?"

They turned to find an amused Nathan standing before them, his hands on his hips. Willow tried to answer, but was ransacked by another fit of laughter before she could get the words out. She held up a hand as if to say, Just a moment. I'll either be good to speak or dead in a moment.

This was precisely what she was thinking. Nora should know. She was a mind reader.

"She's sleep-deprived," Nora answered for her. Willow gave a thumb's up, paused for breath, and started laughing again. "What were you thinking, supplying her with books?"

"I'm a horrible human being."

"Next time, just get her a movie," Andy said. "She'll just talk through the whole thing, and an hour and a half later, she'll be out like a light."

"Lights shine," Willow said, a little breathless, but standing straight. "And that simile is overused. Find another one, would you?"

There she was.

"Nora!"

Nora spun just in time to catch Caleb and Sam as they catapulted into her arms. "Morning, guys!" she said. She looked up, searching.

Nolan had an attachment of his own: a little girl was on his back, her hands patting his shoulders excitedly as she spoke. He'd given Riley a piggyback ride before, but, right now, the sight of it brought a broad, soppy smile to her face. And knowing that her smile was soppy made her cheeks heat, and she had to look away.

"After church, while you and Nolan go to Willow's, Sam and I are going to the park," Caleb announced.

"That's great!"

Nolan reached them. "Hey," he said.

"Hey!" Her cheeks still too warm for her liking, she swiftly averted her gaze to Riley. "Hiya, Riles."

"Hi!" Riley was beaming on top of the world (pun completely intended).

"How are—"

She cut off, gaze swerving as Erin burst down the aisle, tote bag in hand. "I need two people to help me with crafts," Erin said. "Who's up for it?"

Nora raised her hand. When no one else did, she looked at Nolan. He looked back. "Sure," he said.

In the classroom, Erin dropped the tote bag on the craft table, and Nora helped her grab the supplies. Today's lesson was about Daniel in the lion's den, so the craft was basically building props for the lesson. She and Erin had decided to combine the two activities into one, making the lesson a little more interactive than usual.

"You're gonna have to make your halo," Erin said, thrusting a batch of silver pipe cleaners into Nora's arms.

Nora gasped playfully. "Silver? I specifically asked for my halo to be pink!"

"Yeah, well, it's not Wednesday."

She sighed dramatically and plopped next to Nolan at the table. He'd been put on googly eye duty and was separating the different sizes into plastic containers. "You'd sit with me if I had a pink halo, right?" she asked with a pout.

"No."

She gasped and slapped a hand to her heart. "What? Nol, I'm hurt."

"I don't make the rules."

She laughed, and as Erin set plates on the table, she got to work. It may have been silver, but, dang it, it would be the most superb halo ever.

Okay, most superb ever was a little strong. Maybe the most adequate?

"Ah, crap, I forgot the popsicle sticks in Andy's car," Erin said, tipping over her empty tote bag. "I'll be right back!"

"Shame on you!" Nora called after Erin's retreating back. She turned back to her halo. It was swiftly becoming clear that she had no idea what she was doing.

"How goes it, No-No?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Fine."

"That wasn't a 'fine' shrug. And that's definitely not a 'fine' frown."

He sighed. "Greg brought home paperwork for leaving college," he said. He shrugged again. "He hasn't signed any of it yet, but...it just sucks."

"It does." She frowned, wishing there was something more she could do for them.

He continued to separate googly eyes. She created a headband for her halo to stand on.

"What about you?" he asked. "How are things at home?"

Her grip tightened on the pipe cleaner. "Oh, they're fine," she said.

She'd made sure to smile, but something in her face must have tipped him off, because he searched her face. "Okay," he said. He didn't believe her. Dammit.

She dropped the halo onto the table and raked a hand through her hair. She fought the sudden urge to let the truth spill out of her. Just the urge itself was enough to terrify her. What was that? "Seriously, Nol," she said with a smile, "everything's fine."

Everything's fine.