27

Nia walked through the nearby mall feeling sort of like a zombie—almost numb. She couldn’t believe what she was doing. Quitting school and moving in with Sunny and her friends. But that wasn’t what bothered her. It was Sunny’s blatant manipulation of Tanya that was making her stomach churn.

She replayed their conversation. What is Tanya’s gift?

“I don’t know but I’ll think of something.”

Sunny didn’t believe Tanya had a gift. She’d only said that to get her to move in with them. Was Sunny manipulating Nia the same way she’d manipulated Tanya? And if she was, why?

Nia rejected the idea. On that very first day, Sunny had told Nia she had a gift of healing. There was no way she could have known that. Sunny had said she could see things other people couldn’t see. But even if she wasn’t manipulating Nia, there’d really been no reason for Sunny to manipulate Tanya. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t completely capable of going back to St. John’s to pick up her things on her own.

And Sunny had seemed so pleased. I don’t know but I’ll think of something. As if people’s giftedness wasn’t real. If Sunny really believed that, then why was she spending so much time with Nia? No, Sunny was the real deal. She had to be.

Auntie wouldn’t be happy with her. Auntie would still love her. And once Nia explained this was an opportunity from God, Auntie would be supportive. She always was. And, certainly, this was a God-given opportunity, wasn’t it?

Nia’s stomach growled. She needed something to eat. She sniffed. The scent of cookies—just what she needed. She walked past a store then turned back.

Puzzles Galore.

Since her time at Puzzle House with Rachel, she’d grown to love putting puzzles together. Something she hadn’t done since starting college. She walked inside to get a closer look. Maybe there’d be a place at her new house where she could put together a puzzle. She wandered through the store dedicated to nothing but puzzles. At the bargain table she picked up an interesting looking puzzle but her vision blurred. Nia swayed and…

“Oh, my goodness. Are you OK?” A voice asked.

Nia opened her eyes. She was on the floor. “What happened?”

“You fell. Are you OK?”

Nia sat amid a sea of puzzles. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I made a mess.”

“That doesn’t matter as long as you’re OK. Should I call 9-1-1? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“I don’t think so.” She looked down. How had she gotten to the floor? Was she OK?

The clerk interrupted her thoughts. “I really think I should call 9-1-1. You really don’t look good.”

Nia focused on the clerk. “Not necessary. Really.” She stood up. “See. I’m fine. Let me help you clean up this mess.”

The two of them set the table upright and rearranged the puzzles.

Nia looked at the puzzle still in her hand. Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t possible. The puzzle showed a photo of Puzzle House—like the one she’d put together on her first visit. Not exactly the same, but close enough. How could that be? Was it a sign from God that she was doing the right thing?

Her vision dimmed, and for a moment she was surrounded by darkness. And an utter sense of being alone. The feeling was so strong, she swayed—almost losing her balance again. She touched the table for support and closed her eyes. God what’s happening to me?

When she opened her eyes, the darkness was gone. Moving in with Sunny was the absolute wrong thing to do. God did not want her there. And He was making that very clear.

I don’t understand. She’s helping me access my gift—the gift you gave me. Don’t you want me to use it?

Nothing.

She looked around.

The clerk stood by the cash register staring at Nia with a worried look on her face.

Nia smiled to show her everything was fine. Then she walked over and paid for the puzzle of Puzzle House.

Outside the store, she sat down on an empty bench. She stared at the puzzle. Had that moment in the store been real? Was God really telling her not go live with Sunny?

She remembered the words Rachel wrote in her letter. Listen for God’s still small Voice.

The same words Dr. Danforth had said.

OK, God. I’m listening.