The church was almost empty. Not an unusual thing. With each passing decade, with each passing century, fewer and fewer people would turn to the Church for comfort or guidance. It didn't make Jacob sad, only resigned.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It merely meant things were changing. People were thinking. God was evolving. And so, he, too, would evolve. All he could do was hope that it would be for the better.

This church was a large one, considering the size of the town it was in. He was alone except for two elderly ladies sitting together close to the front. The podium was polished. The floors were swept. The timber pews were recently varnished. The bright day's light poured through remarkable stained-glass windows.

On the surface it was awe-inspiring.

But Jacob knew better. Gripping the pew ahead, he gazed around with a frown. He could hear the whispers. He could sense the darkness. It was only small, like a spider scuttling amid the shadows, but it was there. Something bad was happening here. Something secret. It might have been a church but it was no place of God.

Jacob stood. He wouldn't find his answers here.

He stepped outside and immediately felt better. Shaking himself off, like he was shaking away cobwebs, he walked down the street towards a nearby park. If he couldn't find God in buildings and relics, then he would find it in nature and laughter.

As he crossed the road, he pulled his hood further over his face.

The park was big and shaded by tall, leafy elms. A worker was raking up piles of leaves. At its heart was a playground. Children were sliding down the slides and swinging on the swings, laughing and screaming.

A group raced by him, playing tag. One of them stopped to look up at him, his eyes wide, sensing something the others didn't. Jacob mussed up his hair with a smile and told him to move along. Toddlers played in the sandpit. A dog raced from tree to tree, barking and marking. A group of mothers was sitting with prams. He felt their wary eyes as he took a seat on a nearby bench. Taking off his boots and socks, he wriggled his toes in the soft grass.

Releasing a breath, he leaned over his lap and clasped his hands between his knees, letting the children's laughter fill his ears, letting the warmth of the sun beat against his back. Soon, his heart was soaring.

Speaking with God didn't involve words. One prayed, of course, but in a way that involved the heart rather than the mind. The closer one was to God, the easier it was. Angels, children and animals had no difficulty.

Jacob smiled at a burst of shrieking laughter. The dog barked.

With a sigh, Jacob leaned back, gripping his knees. Slowly, with God's help, he was coming upon the answer. Two long days it had taken, but the solution was drawing near. God approved but it was up to Jacob to determine whether he was able to live up to the task.

Was he strong enough? Did he have the will and control? Could he protect Kaitlyn as he hoped or would it backfire and only make things worse?

He recalled her face that last night when she'd woken up screaming. She'd been in such pain. In such desperation. Her eyes had been aflame. Her fingers had been like claws. Jacob knew what she'd been feeling—in a way. He, too, had been touched by the Great Deceiver.

Corrupted.

Would he really let her suffer because he was doubtful?

Jacob dragged his hands down his face. No more conjecture. Time was running out. He had to come to a decision—now. Two days had already slipped through his fingers. There was no more to spare.

He was about to stand when he spotted a small commotion from across the park. Two police officers were talking with the mothers, who were nodding and pointing at him.

Jacob sighed but remained seated as they came over. Uniformed with broad-rimmed hats, wide belts and guns at their hips. Their heavy boots thudded in the soft earth.

'Good evening, officers,' he said, his hands folded in his lap. He kept his head carefully lowered. 'What can I do for you?'

'Good afternoon, just keeping the peace around here,' a man said in a gruff voice. 'Is one of these children yours?'

Jacob gazed at their belts. 'No.'

'Then I would kindly ask if you would please leave the area.'

'Of course.' Jacob leaned over to pull his boots back on.

'This is a small town. I don't think I've seen you before,' the second officer said. 'Where are you from?'

'Oh ... away. I've been travelling.'

The second officer looped his thumbs behind his belt. 'That sweater looks kind of thick. Isn't it hot? Perhaps you could remove your hood so we can see your face.'

'I'm sorry. I'd rather not.' Jacob stood, his eyes to the ground. 'Now, I'll be on my way.'

The second officer stepped in front of him. Jacob gazed at the man's boots. They were scuffed at the toes. Well-used. 'There's been a robbery of a local store not two blocks from here. You wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?'

'No, officer.' He tried to step around him.

But the man stepped in front of him again. 'Only, the man was described as wearing a hood. Tall. About your size and ...'

Silence followed. The dog barked again. A child screamed.

'... and black, you mean?' Jacob dared.

The officer shifted on his feet.

Jacob tucked his dark hands into his pockets. "'There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus".' Like all bible verses, this one sprang easily to Jacob's lips.

He could sense the two men looking at each other.

'What in God's name did you just say?' the first officer said.

Jacob lifted his face. The first officer stumbled back. His companion's eyes widened as he instinctively dropped his hand to his gun.

'Do not play into Satan's hands,' Jacob said calmly. 'For all that divides us destroys us.'

The two officers stared at his bright face.

Jacob nodded. 'Good day.' And with that, he turned and walked away.