PART 2: UNMASKING THE SHEPHERD
Reverend Thomas set the pie dish on the kitchen island with a heavy, deliberate thud that shattered the stifling quiet.
He turned to face me, his calculated pastor smile finally slipping away, revealing a cold, arrogant man underneath.
“You weren’t supposed to be home until nine, Marcus,” Thomas said smoothly, adjusting his blazer as if discussing church finances.
Sarah shrank back against the hallway wall, tears streaming down her pale face, unable to meet my gaze.
“So this is what counseling was for?” I asked, my voice dangerously low as twenty-five years of trust dissolved into ash.
“You used my own home, my own marriage, and your pulpit to take what wasn’t yours,” I continued, taking a step toward him.
Thomas didn’t flinch; instead, he smirked, convinced his standing in our small community made him entirely untouchable.
“Who do you think the town will believe, Marcus?” Thomas whispered coldly. “A tired warehouse worker, or the man who built their church?”
(A hidden detail in the living room is about to change the entire game! Click “Next Page” to continue reading…)
