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one. Sunday school always began at 10:30 a.m. and preaching afterward at 11:15 a.m., and she’d been dressed for display, like the little doll she was.
    Now she dressed to hide, and cooler weather was her friend. Jackets and coats, long-sleeved shirts and slacks hid a multitude of sins, which was good when you went to a church where people preached against them.
    ***
    LilyAnn eyed the sky as she carried the trash out to the bin behind the house. It was nearly half a mile to church, too far to walk in heels. The day was cold but clear, and she could take a walk this afternoon. Right now, she needed to hurry and get out of her sweatshirt and jeans or she was going to be late for church.
    She ran back inside, shutting out the cold as the door slammed behind her, and was on her way down the hall when the phone began to ring. She lengthened her stride to get to the bedroom to answer.
    “Hello.”
    “Hey, it’s me, Mike. Can you come over right now? I need some help.”
    It was the slight tremor in his voice that made her heart kick out of rhythm.
    “I’m on my way,” she said, and hung up the phone. By the time she got to the door, she was running.
    She flew across her front yard and up his driveway, then around to the back door because she knew it would be unlocked.
    “I’m here!” she yelled, as she ran in through the kitchen. “Where are you?”
    “In the bedroom.”
    She’d spent half her life in this house playing with Mike when they were little and knew exactly where to go. But the moment she started down the hall and saw the blood, panic hastened her steps. The trail went all the way across the hardwood floor of his bedroom and into the bathroom. The door was ajar.
    “I’m coming in!” she yelled.
    Mike was leaning over the bathroom sink, wearing a pair of blue jeans and nothing else. Blood was pouring from a cut on his forehead, and there were smaller cuts and scratches on his torso. The Plexiglas shower door was in shards.
    “Oh my God, oh my God, Mike! You fell!”
    “I got dizzy. Slipped. Tried to get dressed, and this is as far as I got. I’m too dizzy to drive myself to the ER. Can you—”
    “Sit down,” she said, and slammed the lid shut on the commode, then grabbed a hand towel, folded it into a large pad, and pressed it against the cut. “Hold this,” she said, and flew back into his bedroom, snatching a button-up shirt from the closet and a pair of house shoes from beside his bed.
    Within a couple of minutes, she had him dressed and on his way down the hall, but he was leaning on her with every step.
    “Where are your car keys?” she asked.
    He pointed to the dish by the front door.
    She grabbed them on the way out, pulling the door shut as they went. Her purse and driver’s license were at her house, and that was just too damned bad. If they got stopped on the way to the ER for speeding, the police officer could kiss her fat ass.
    By the time she got Mike in the car, all the color had washed from his face and she was getting scared.
    “How long have you been bleeding?” she asked, as she backed the car down the driveway and took off, leaving rubber on the street as she accelerated.
    “I don’t know,” he mumbled, and then passed out.
    “Oh my God! Mike! Mike!”
    But he wasn’t talking. She grabbed the compress that had fallen into his lap and shoved it against his forehead, steering with one hand as she ran stop signs and red lights, thankful it was Sunday morning when the traffic was sparse.
    She picked up a cop car two blocks from the hospital, but she didn’t slow down. If he wanted to give her a ticket, he was going to have to do it there.
    When she didn’t slow down or stop, the cop hit the siren and accelerated, trying to catch her. She pulled into the ER bay with him on her bumper. When she got out running and covered in blood, the cop’s attitude changed as he jumped out of the cruiser and followed her to the passenger door.
    LilyAnn recognized the officer as a former