And so the time had passed until finally it was September. Priscilla had returned to graduate school in Columbus, thankful that she seemed to have survived the crisis—and without her father knowing.
Yet in the aftermath, Nelson as well as Liza prayed more often and with more anguish for Priscilla.
Priscilla awoke with a start as her flight to San Francisco encountered turbulence and the pilot was advising passengers to make sure their seatbelts were fastened.
She checked her belt and then reached out for her half-full glass of wine. It was warm, but she drank some anyway. She looked at her watch. She had napped for nearly an hour.
As she recalled what had been on her mind before she mercifully fell asleep, Priscilla wished she had not awakened. Having that abortion had been such a hard
