Lori Sabin and Beth Suit are both fantastic editors, and helped guide this book to completion. Thank you so much.
I drafted some very early readers to help with this project. Kirsten Papi, Kirsty Lander, Stephenie Thomas and Beth Suit: thank you. Sorry I made you cry reading through this multiple times.
Several people joined my beta readers group and gave extensive detailed feedback on the second draft. Thank you to Jennifer Wolfel, Heather Elliot, Amy Burt, Shaina Abbs, Brenna Weidner, Rosie Smith, Darcie Sherrick, Bryan James, Katie Mac, Dawn Bush, Lelyana Taufik, Heather Crider and Wendy Wilken.
Finally, thank you to the readers and book bloggers who have shared your encouragement, your thoughts, your kind comments.
I've probably inadvertently left someone out, and I apologize in advance for that.
Copyright
Books by Charles Sheehan-Miles
http://www.sheehanmiles.com
Charles Sheehan-Miles
Published by Cincinnatus Press
Copyright 2013 Charles Sheehan-Miles.
v041813
ISBN: 9780988273696
Cover Design by Okay Creations
Edited by Beth Suit and Lori Sabin
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is unintentional, with the exception of certain named historical characters.
Cincinnatus Press
Bethesda, Maryland
In The Stillness by Andrea Randall
Note from Charles:
As I was writing The Last Hour, each day I exchanged chapters with Andrea Randall in our critique group as she worked on her newest novel In The Stillness. So, as we both wrapped up our books, I asked her to let me include a preview chapter of her novel with The Last Hour. It's a gutwrenching, painful read, but powerful and full of hope. I hope you'll check it out!
Chapter 7
I managed to get to the boys’ school five minutes before pick up, so I had time to practice slow breathing and get the splotchiness out of my face before walking into the building. Eric has texted me about ten times, going on about how sorry he is at how he treated Danielle, mixed with his anger at my lack of respect for him in front of a student.
That girl wasn’t just a student. Dammit. Thinking about her causes me to wipe my eyes again while the boys chase each other at the playground. The pride she had when telling me her boyfriend is a Marine, steeped in her conspicuous fear, was heartbreaking. I know exactly how she’s feeling right this very second and there’s absolutely nothing I—or anyone else—can do for her.
Stop thinking about this, Nat . . .
Eric’s texts finally stop around dinner. I haven’t responded to a single one, and keep myself busy making forts and laughing with my boys. After dinner and bath, it’s time for bed. Max, named after Eric’s grandfather, picks out a Batman book.
Oliver, named after—you guessed it—my grandfather, joins in, “Mommy, when I get bigger I can be a superhero.”
“Absolutely,” I say, closing the book. “You can be a police officer, or a firefighter—”
“Or an Army guy!” Max cheers.
“Yeah, an Army guy!” Ollie agrees with a yawn.
“Mhmm,” I divert the topic, “or a doctor, they’re superheroes too, you know.”
“I want to be an Army guy.” Max yawns. Ollie’s already asleep.
“They’re called soldiers. Night, Baby.” I tuck them in and kiss their cheeks.
“I love superheroes,” Max says as he drifts to sleep.
“Me, too,” I whisper, kissing his cheek once more.
I close their door tightly behind me and take a deep breath with my hand still on the handle, trying not to put too much weight into the words of carefree four-year-olds.
As soon as I walk into the kitchen, Eric comes through the door.
Can I catch a damn break today?
I only look at him from the corner of my eye before turning my back, reaching for one wine glass and pouring myself a slightly too-full glass.
“Please be quiet, they just fell asleep.”
“Natalie, I understand that you’re upset—”
“Clearly you don’t, or you’d leave me the hell alone.” I gulp the wine three times, causing my eyes to water. “You were an absolute prick to that poor girl today, Eric, and it was totally uncalled for.” I toss the wineglass into the sink. It shatters, and I don’t care as I turn for the hallway.
“Hey!” He lunges for me and grabs my arm, spinning me around. “You disrespected me in my office in front of one of my students, and you’re mad at me?” When he’s mad, really mad, a vein pulses down the center of his forehead.
“The girl was a mess and you were a total pompous ass.”
“Students come to us all the time with stuff, Natalie. Only so many grandparents and aunts can die before you become a cynic.”
I try to tug my arm away, but he grips harder. “Did you not see the horror on her face? What the hell is wrong with you? She was as scared as she’s ever been in her whole life, and you didn’t even look at her; you couldn’t be bothered to address her.” As the tears fall, it hits him.
“She’s not you, Nat.” His tone is somewhere between condescending and remorseful.
“That’s what you don’t get. She is me—they’re all me—and to talk to her about her responsibilities—”
“Is this all because you
