“I SAID you’re not going,” he snarled as she walked to the door. Standing more than a foot taller than her tiny frame, rage coursed through Jack’s veins. As he towered over Carla, his beefy frame shaking with anger, he held his fists tightly by his side, trying to contain his fury.
“And I told you,” she replied, looking up at him and shaking with fear, “I’m going to church.” This wouldn’t be her first beating, but some things are worth fighting for. Besides, she needed God’s grace to help her finally break free from the nightmare she was living.
Cheryl A. Showers