The old church hall echoes with the sound of clanging utensils as hungry lost souls devour the one decent meal they’ll get today.

I ladle a healthy portion of Bolognese sauce over the man’s pasta and give him a kind smile.

“There you go, sir. Enjoy.”

It’s like he’s not sure how to thank me, so he just takes the bowl and shuffles to one of the long rectangular tables in the middle of the room. His smelly odor lingers behind him and I wrinkle my nose, my heart squeezing with sympathy as I cast my eyes over the raggedy diners. I wonder how long it’s been since some of them bathed, had a haircut, wore something brand new.

There’s so much hurt and desolation in this room, yet beneath it all I can sense an underlying strength. They’re close to the edge, but they haven’t given up yet. They’re fighting in their own way, and that’s why I come here. It’s a privilege to be around these people.

I was stoked that baseball practice was cut short this afternoon. I jumped at the chance to help Rahn set up for tonight’s dinner service at the Catholic church. To be honest, I wasn’t overly keen on sticking around to watch Holden and Maddie kissing, and Max has been so secretive lately, I didn’t feel like spending the afternoon being lied to. So, I quickly texted Rahn, and thankfully she hadn’t left yet. I ran to her place and we drove to the northwest side of town.

St. Michael’s has been running this free dinner service for a couple of years now. Apparently one of the church’s long-standing members left a huge chunk of money in his will, allocated specifically for setting up a food program for the homeless and any families who are seriously on the poverty line.

They set up the church hall every afternoon around four thirty, and the doors open an hour later. Every time I’ve come, the place has filled with the same forty or so hungry, helpless people looking for a small ray of sun in their day.

I love being a part of it.

Rahn’s family knows the priest really well, and that’s why she comes down once or twice a week to help. She’s gotten to know a lot of these people, and she’s now circulating the room handing out bread rolls and chatting with them. Talk about a ray of sunshine. She’s the most effervescent person I’ve ever met. I bet she could convince anyone to do anything.

I love her.

And I’m so grateful to have formed such a quick friendship with her. I have a few friends back in Columbus that I’ve kept in touch with, but it can sometimes be a few days in between chats and it’s nice to have Rahn to fill that gap. After my fallout with Mads, she was totally there for me. She hugged me when I cried and tried to bolster my spirits—a true friend.

I can see us spending a lot of time together over the next year or so, especially since my sisters will be leaving for college in a few months. I thought I wasn’t going to be able to live without them, but since coming to Armitage, all three of us have kind of drifted apart. But that’s okay. I have Rahn now.

Passing out another serving of Bolognese, I smile at the deadpan woman and her young son, my heart bleeding as the little boy sniffs and takes the bowl. His hands are so tiny, dirt caked under his fingernails. His shaggy hair is oily and his big brown eyes are too large for his face. He’s adorable.

“I hope you like your meal.” I grin at him and reach for an extra bread roll. “Why don’t you keep this one for later?”

My wink makes a small smile twitch on his lips before he follows his mother to a nearby table. I remember them from a couple of weeks ago. They stopped by the food pantry to collect some breakfast and lunch food. Church people donate to it weekly—loaves of bread and boxes of cereal are handed out to those families struggling to scrape by.

I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be.

I wish I had more time available to help Father Dan, but I can only come with Rahn when baseball practice finishes early or if she’s willing to wait around and drive us over after things have already started. Due to family commitments, Rahn can only come a few times a week, but I tag along whenever I can.

I’m glad we got here on time tonight. Due to illnesses circulating, a lot of the volunteers aren’t around, and Father Dan is seriously understaffed.

“We have to go.” Rahn appears beside me.

I glance at her.

She winces and kind of bobs on her toes. “Sorry, but Mom’s just called and told me I have to grab the boys. Some work emergency and she’s held up. Dad’s in LA this week, so it’s up to me. Our neighbor is watching them but she has to go out. I need to get home or she’ll be late.”

“Oh, okay.” I nod, kind of disappointed. I’m not ready to leave, and if we go, Father Dan will be down two more volunteers.

Glancing along the line of people who still need serving, and thinking ahead to the massive cleanup, I look back at Rahn and murmur, “You go. I’ll be fine.”

“What?”

“I’m not ready to leave. There’s still so much to do. We can’t leave it all for Father Dan.” I point to the stout black man who has done nothing but good for this community.

“I know we’re short-staffed tonight, and I feel really bad, but I’ve got to go.” She flaps her hand between us.

I look at my watch, aware of the line backing up by the table.

“One second, sir.” I hold my finger up to the man waiting for his meal. His quiet agitation is starting to show.

I can’t bail.

“You go. Seriously, I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t leave you here. I might not be able to get back to pick you up.”

“I’ll catch the bus home.”

“From this part of town? No way!”

Biting my lip, I give her a determined look. “I’m not leaving these people in the lurch. I’ll order an Uber. I don’t care how much it costs.”

She cringes, flicking her braid over her shoulder, obviously not happy with me. “But I have to go. My brothers need me.”

“And these people need me.” I rub her arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I just want you to be safe getting home.”

“I will be.” I grin. “Seriously, go take care of your family. I’ll text you as soon as I walk in my front door.”

Rahn chews her lips, bobbing on her toes again.

“Just go.” I giggle. “You don’t want to be late.”

My friend whines in her throat, so I turn her around and push her toward the exit.

She spins back to double-check. “You sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure.” I smile, letting her know that I’m seriously not worried.

And I’m not.

I’m completely safe inside this building and when I leave, I’ll order an Uber. It won’t even be that late. I’ll be home by like eight thirty.

Turning back to the pot of meat sauce, I grab the ladle again and ignore Rahn’s indecision. I can see her bobbing out of the corner of my eye. She checks her watch and winces.

“See you tomorrow, sweets.” I grin at her.

She groans. “Okay, fine. But text me when you get home.”

“Promise.” I wink at her and then serve the hungry man.

He mumbles a thank you and heads to a table near the back.

Smiling at the next person, I dish out some more food and keep doing that until my pot is empty.

Stepping back with a satisfied smile, I survey the room and pick up the last two breadbaskets. Father Dan is chatting with a single mother. Her kids are perched on his knee and one of them is giggling.

I grin and move past them, weaving around the tables to hand out the last of the bread rolls. It feels so good to be blessing people this way. It fills my heart in ways I can’t explain. Helping others is what I want to spend my life doing, and I’m so grateful to Rahn for introducing me to Father Dan and giving me a chance to really give back.

After the food is gone, people slowly trickle out. A few of them will head to the abandoned warehouse three blocks from here, one or two will hang out in the nearby alleyways, and the biggest chunk will head home to their derelict houses which are coming apart at the seams.

I wish there was more we could do for these people, but when I mentioned it to Dad, he reminded me that the town could give some of these people a million dollars and they’d be back on the breadline within the year.

I argued that we should be giving them the money and then teaching them how to use it, but he just brushed me off. I guess he’s been a cop on the streets for too long. That job really knows how to tarnish a person’s hope.

Well, I refuse to give in to that line of thinking. There’s hope for everyone, no matter who they are or where they come from.

Heading into the kitchen, I help Nancy with the last of the cleanup. The poor woman is standing by the sink, rinsing dishes and then loading them into the dish sanitizer. Her nose is red from over-wiping it. The cold she’s been denying is getting the better of her and she looks miserable.

“Go home,” I murmur, rubbing her back and forcing her away from the rest of the dirty dishes. “I’ll finish up here.”

“No, I really should stay.”

“No.” I grin. “You really should go home. I’m healthy and I have nothing else planned tonight. Please, go get better.”

She gives me a grateful smile and takes the towel I’m holding out to her. As soon as she starts drying her hands, I get busy finishing up. Before I know it, the kitchen is sparkling. I guess I have a little of my mother in me.

I snort and shake my head, grabbing my phone and jacket off the counter before walking back into the main hall.

The place is empty except for Father Dan, who is sitting beside a frail-looking man. They both have their heads bowed in prayer and I don’t want to disturb them. Slipping out the front, I try to close the door as quietly as I can.

I ease onto the footpath and quickly text Rahn.

All done for the night. Ordering an Uber now. Will text again when I get home xxx

I press Send but the reception isn’t good enough, so I walk a little way down the street until I can get a decent signal. Hovering under the streetlight, I finally get the message to go through and then open my Uber app. I haven’t used it in Armitage yet, but hopefully it works just the same as it did in Columbus. And hopefully a driver won’t take too long to get here.

“Well, hello.” A crude voice I don’t recognize approaches from my right.

I flinch and step away, turning back toward the church. Instinct is telling me to freaking run, and I’m about to break into a sprint when someone steps into my path.

“Hey, sweet thing.” A short man with crooked teeth gives me a half smile that’s devoid of life. The streetlight casts a shadow across the right side of his gaunt face, making him look like some kind of ghoulish monster.

I jolt to a stop and spin, only to find the first guy closing in on me from behind.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?”

With a thick swallow, I inch away from him. He’s tall and lean, his skin as dark as Father Dan’s. He’s holding a paper-wrapped bottle in his left hand, and the way his boots are scuffing on the ground tells me he’s drunk.

I scoot back, only to bump into his friend, who chuckles in my ear while wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Let me go.” My words spurt out in a trembling whisper.

My heart is hammering so hard I can barely think straight.

“Who you calling?” The man in front snatches my phone and smirks at the screen before tossing it aside. It smacks onto the ground and I wince. There goes my lifeline.

“You don’t need an Uber, baby.”

“Yeah, sweetness.” The guy holding me gently skims his teeth across my earlobe. “We can take you for a ride.”

His hot chuckle sears my skin and fear makes me buck away from him.

I open my mouth to scream, but he clamps his hand across my face, muffling my cries for help. His arms form a tight vise around me, and he starts pulling me farther away from the church.

No!

My mind is screaming at him to stop, but I can’t seem to make a sound.

They’re going to rape me.

I’d rather die than have these disgusting men touch me like that.

I’m horrified.

Terrified.

This can’t happen!

I struggle and start to kick, repulsion making me panic.

“Calm down, cutie.” The man lifts me off my feet while his friend laughs and takes a swig from his bottle.

Shit! Shit!

My entire body is trembling now, nausea sweeping through me. I don’t know what to do. I’ve got to get away.

I grunt and struggle some more, catching the guy’s shin.

“Aw, fuck!” He loosens his grip for a second and my feet smack onto the ground.

I wriggle out of his arms and try to make a break for it, but his friend’s instantly in my way, pushing me back into a dark alley. I hit the ground with a cry.

Pain rockets down my leg and my hands feel bruised from the impact.

I stay on the ground, inching away from my attacker as he towers over me.

“Please,” I whimper. “Please don’t do this.”

Snatching me under the arm, he hauls me back onto my feet, reminding me just how small I am compared to him.

His breath reeks as he gets in my face and sprays my cheek with spittle. “Shut up and stop fighting. It’ll only make it worse.”

With a hard shove, he pushes me back against his friend, whose flirting tone has been replaced with a chilling whisper. “I’m going first.”

I close my eyes, fear pulsing through me in such loud waves that I can’t hear anything but my pounding heartbeat.

Tears burn behind my lids as sobs shake my belly.

I release my first cry when I’m thrown to the ground. I scramble to get up but he pushes me down, straddling my hips and pinning me to the rough concrete.

“Don’t,” I sob. “Please! Stop!”

I catch his leering grin in the moonlight. It’s ugly and only gets more repulsive when he reaches for my waistband.

He’s going to tear my clothes off.

Oh God, help me!

I can’t breathe as fear holds me frozen on the ground. Images of what he’s about to do blind and hinder, until a noise behind us changes everything.

A thunk and grunt makes my attacker spin. He turns in time to catch a thundering fist to the face. He topples off me and doesn’t even have a chance to cry out before the guy is on him, driving another sound punch into his nose.

I scramble back against the wall, hugging my knees to my chest and trembling as my rescuer goes to town. His arm works like a piston as he fires another two punches at him.

I’m sure he would have kept going if the other guy hadn’t made it back to his feet and was now charging with a loud cry, his bottle raised like a club.

My rescuer spins, blocking the blow like it’s a lame attempt and firing a fist into the drunken man’s stomach.

I flinch as he doubles over, his loud groan echoing down the alley. The street fighter stands tall, raising his knee and finishing the drunk off.

The man slumps against the wall with a pitiful moan before staggering over to his friend.

“Let’s go,” he slurs, wrenching his friend’s jacket before giving up, jumping over him and limping away from the scene.

The guy who was going to rape me first whimpers and groggily stands, swaying on his feet as he looks down at me. Blood is streaming from his crooked nose, coating his teeth and lips.

A weeping gasp pops out of my mouth and I curl in on myself, covering my head until someone growls, “Get the fuck out of here. And if you ever show your faces around here again, you’re dead!”

Sloppy footsteps scuttle away, but I stay in my little trembling ball until a gentle hand rests on my shoulder.

“It’s okay. They’re gone. You’re safe now.” The voice is deep and husky with emotion.

Cautiously lifting my head, I peek over my arm and lose my breath as, even in the dim light, I recognize the guy who just saved me.

Brushing a tender hand over the top of my head, his brown gaze coaxes me out of hiding and I’m soon facing the last person I expected to…

Vincent Mancini.