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loose double chin, and the swell of an overfed belly that strained the rich material of his double-breasted blazer. The large man gripped a Tupperware cake holder in his free hand as if it offered protection. Cooper could detect smudges of chocolate frosting shadowing the inside of the lid.
    “Quinton?” Savannah lifted her nose in the air. “Is that you?”
    “Yes,” Jake confirmed, his rough voice sounding worried. “What’s wrong, big man?”
    Staggering toward the closest empty seat, Quinton fell into the chair, as though being shoved down by the force of a great burden. Cooper felt the atmosphere in the classroom transform. Gone was the light-spirited talk and intimate banter. Every set of anxious eyes was glued to Quinton’s troubled face.
    “Savannah,” he murmured in an anguished tone, “a member of our congregation has been killed.” He put his face in his hands and, without looking up, said, “And Wesley Hughes has been arrested for murder.”
    As a collective, the group gasped.
    Quinton stared down at his trembling hands and tried locking them together. His agitated gaze shifted and alighted on Cooper. “Forgive me.” He spoke directly to her. “I think I’m still in shock. I’m Quinton.”
    Jake rose and left the room, returning seconds later with a paper cup filled with water.
    “Who was killed?” Jake asked, putting a hand on Quinton’s shoulder.
    Quinton took a sip of water and then put down the cup and sighed. “I don’t know how to tell you this, because she was such a sweet and generous woman. She was . . .” He trailed off and dropped his gaze.
    Cooper felt a deep sense of dread creep into her belly and rise inside her chest. She couldn’t tear her gaze from Quinton’s pained face, even when the anguished man looked up and stared at Cooper’s peculiar eyes.
    “Oh, my friends,” he cried softly. “It’s Brooke Hughes. And her husband has been accused of killing her.”
    Trish closed her gaping mouth and then opened it again. “Brooke! I just saw her at the Women’s Fellowship luncheon last week. She was happy, healthy. This is insane. She can’t be dead! And Wesley wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head!”
    Quinton nodded, reluctant to confirm what he knew. “One of the officers who responded to the 911 call is a member. I just overheard him in the teachers’ lounge telling Pastor Matthews what he knew.” He pressed his fingers into his eyes to stop his tears from escaping. “The cops think Wesley’s responsible.”
    Jake sprang to his feet, his face filled with fury. “Wesley Hughes wouldn’t step on a snake even if it bit him. He’s been an elder at this church for years. Those idiots have the wrong man!”
    “Friends, friends!” Savannah called out urgently. “Reach out to one another. Hold on tight. Now is the time for prayer. Then, we’ll come up with a plan of action.”
    The Sunrise Bible Study members grasped one another’s hands. Cooper hastily closed her eyes and took the hands of Jake and Savannah. They squeezed hers firmly and she took comfort from the warmth of their skin.
    Savannah prayed for strength and discernment and for help in discovering the truth. She also asked for comfort for Wesley Hughes, which told Cooper that Savannah also refused to believe that he was capable of killing his wife.
    Why Brooke? Cooper demanded silently, feeling a surge of anger. Who would murder such a lovely person?
    At that moment she was grateful to be in this circle of strangers.
    Even after their prayer was over, the Bible study members did not release one another’s hands. They stayed still for a long time, wordlessly mourning the loss of Brooke Hughes. And in the silence, no one let go.

3
     
    Music began to float through the halls of the school wing. It had an uplifting and slightly frenzied beat, as though hurrying its listeners to quickly find seats in the chapel before the melody came to an end.
    Trish raised her head in the direction of the muted strains and