“I want to thank everyone for your continued support in this search and rescue,” Ben told those gathered in the church kitchen. The smell of bacon grease made Jade queasy while people around her ate their hearty breakfasts.
The sun still hadn’t come up yet, and when it did, they’d have less than five hours of functional daylight to keep searching for Dez outside. Jade wondered how long it would take until the teams gave up. How long was a child that little expected to survive in this cold? At least this morning the sky was overcast, giving Glennallen a cloud covering that warded off the most bitter of the cold. Temperatures hovered around zero, a vast improvement from yesterday.
“Even though we’re continuing to follow up on leads in Palmer, we’re going to keep on focusing locally,” Ben stated. “We know Dezzirae is out there somewhere, and we’re all committed to doing whatever it takes to see her safely reunited with her mother.”
Jade tried to ignore the glances that passed her way and focused on Ben, wondering if he’d slept at all last night.
“We’ve got a lot of people this morning,” he continued, “both local volunteers and workers from across the state. I’m not here to turn this into a big religious event, but for anyone who feels so inclined, I’d like to offer a prayer for Dezzirae’s safe return. If you don’t care to join us, there’s no pressure or expectations. You can head on upstairs, and we’ll meet you there in just a few minutes.”
Nobody moved. A moment later, Ben was lifting up his voice to heaven. Aisha and Mrs. Spencer sat on either side of Jade, offering gentle back rubs and hand squeezes that only accentuated how numb she felt. If Ben wanted to pray and others felt like joining him, she wasn’t going to argue. But as the morning hours passed without a single word from her daughter, Jade found herself trusting less and less in the power of prayer. If God wanted to bring her daughter home, wouldn’t he have done so by now?
Would Dez even be the same child once they were together again? What if she’d been abused? Jade’s first encounter with Pastor Mitch wasn’t until she was fourteen. How could a child as little as Dez endure anything even remotely similar?
Mrs. Spencer squeezed her hand. Aisha cried softly, blowing her nose quietly every few minutes. All Jade could think about was that — Christian or not — she’d never forgive God if he let something so terrible happen to her daughter.