Special thanks and acknowledgment to

       Carolyne Aarsen for her contribution to the

       After the Storm miniseries.

      Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.

      —Matthew 11:28

      To those whose lives have been torn apart by storms—without and within

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Questions for Discussion

      Prologue

      July 10, 5:00 p.m.

      “Alyssa. Lily.” Josie threw the young girls’ names out into the eerie quiet blanketing the town of High Plains.

      The quiet that was the aftermath of the tornado.

      She took a quick step down the church steps and called out again.

      An hour ago her ears had ached from the roaring rush of wind, the screech of wood being pulled free from the nails, the distinctive sound of a roaring train that came with the tornado ripping through the late afternoon.

      An hour ago she had held her niece, Alyssa, and Alyssa’s best friend, Lily, close to her side while the storm raged overhead. Half an hour ago, as frantic parents came to check on the children in Josie’s care, Lily and Alyssa were still around. But since that time, as calm began to return, the two girls had disappeared.

      “Lily. Alyssa.” She yelled louder this time, as her panicked gaze flicked over the devastation the tornado had wrought, disbelief and sorrow flooding over her.

      Tree branches the size of her arm lay on the street, chunks of plywood, splintered timbers and unrecognizable debris littered a landscape she no longer recognized.

      The Old Town Hall, one of the first buildings put up in High Plains all those years ago, was nothing more than a jumble of broken wood and windows, as if someone had picked it up and dropped it, with no regard for its history or its place in the town.

      So close, she thought, fear clutching her midsection at the sight. The tornado that had ripped the Old Town Hall to rubble had—like the Egyptian Angel of Death—passed over the church doing nothing more than pulling down a sign.

      She breathed another prayer, a mixture of gratitude for her safety and supplication for those who might be hurt as she struggled to absorb the wreckage of her town.

      A few people stood in front of the businesses lining the street, their faces as dazed as—Josie was sure—hers was at what had just happened.

      Where in all of this had her niece gone with her new best friend, Lily Marstow? And why had they left when Josie had specifically told them to stay close?

      When they had asked if they could go to the washroom, Josie had watched them go, then a little girl crying for her mother had caught her attention.

      Ten minutes had passed before she realized the girls weren’t with her friend Nicki or anywhere in the church. Nor had anyone seen them.

      Dear Lord, please let them be okay, she prayed as she stepped out into the wet street littered with branches, wood and hunks of soggy pink insulation.

      What had she been thinking letting them even step out of her sight?

      She hadn’t. She’d been too busy listening to the stories that came with each new person coming to claim their child from the preschool at the church.

      And she’d been too busy trying to call her own grandmother who lived a few blocks away, hoping, praying the elderly woman was safe. But neither the phones nor her cell phone worked. She had no idea what had happened to her grandmother and, up until now, hadn’t dared venture out to find out.

      “Alyssa. Lily. If you can hear me, you better be coming back to the church this second.” Josie tried to keep her voice firm and steady but it wobbled on the last few words.

      She