Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

F R A N C I N E R I V E R S
ition. She filled her lungs with it, so heady and wonderful. What was it?
Where did it come from? Her mind whirled with words and phrases
Michael had read to her over the past weeks and even before that, words she
thought she had never heard but had somehow found their way into the
deepest part of her, somewhere inside, a place she’d been unable to close off.
And then a still, quiet voice filled the room.
I am.
Angel sat up abruptly, eyes wide open. She looked around the cabin, but
there was no one there other than Michael, who lay sleeping deeply beside
her. Who had spoken? She felt fear sweep through her, and she trembled
with it. Then it was gone, washed away, and she was calm again, her skin
tingling strangely.
“There is nothing,” she whispered. “Nothing.” She awaited an answer,
not moving.
But no answer came. No voice filled the stillness.
Angel lay down slowly and curled as tightly against Michael as she could.
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