Chapter 6 - Echoes in the Rain
Healing is rarely a straight line. Just when you think the shadows have completely disappeared, an autumn storm can bring them right back to your door.
It was late October, and a fierce Pacific Northwest storm had settled over the lake. The wind howled through the pines, and heavy rain rattled against the windowpanes like throw gravel. Around midnight, the power went out, plunging the house into pitch blackness.
I woke instantly, my instincts on high alert. I grabbed a flashlight from the nightstand and stepped into the hallway.
Emily’s room was empty.
Panic, cold and sharp, surged through my veins. "Emily!" I called out, rushing down the stairs.
The front door was unlocked, swaying slightly in the draft. Rain was slanting into the entryway.
I bolted out onto the porch, shining the flashlight beam into the dark yard. "Emily! Where are you?"
The beam illuminated a small figure standing near the edge of the lake, drenched in the downpour. She was barefoot, wearing only her pajamas, staring down at the turbulent black water whipped up by the storm.
"Emily!" I ran to her, wrapping my arms around her cold, soaking body. She was trembling violently, her eyes wide and fixed on the lake.
"I heard it," she cried through the roar of the wind. "I heard something splashing in the water, Daddy! I thought... I thought he was out there!"
The darkness and the sound of the churning lake had triggered a massive flash-back, pulling her right back to that horrifying Sunday in her mother's backyard.
I dropped to my knees in the mud, wrapping her in a tight hug, using my own body to block the wind and rain.
"Look at me, Emily! Look at my face!" I shouted over the storm, shining the flashlight up so she could see me. "Jason is in prison! He can never, ever hurt you again! You are in Chelan, with me! Look at the trees, look at our house!"
She blinked through the blinding rain, her chest heaving as she fought her way back to the present. She looked at the warm silhouette of our cottage, then at my face.
"Daddy?" she sobbed, her hands clutching my rain-soaked jacket.
"I've got you," I declared, my voice unshakable. "I will always have you. The storm can't touch us."
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I scooped her up into my arms and carried her back inside. I kicked the door shut, built a roaring fire in the wood stove, wrapped her in three heavy wool blankets, and brewed hot chocolate. We sat together on the sofa by the crackling fire until the sun came up, watching the storm slowly die away into a soft morning mist.
That night was a turning point. She had faced her worst fear in the dark and realized that her father was still there to pull her out.
