Agnostic By Default, Awakened By Design

Chapter Two: Not Yet

I convinced the girl to drive me to Devin and Andrea’s house. I needed answers. I needed someone who could make sense of this chaos.

When we arrived, Devin greeted us at the door with his usual energy, his smile as big as ever. But as I told him what had happened, that energy faded. His shoulders dropped, and life seemed to drain out of him.

Devin and Andrea—“Red”—had been like family to me long before they met Elijah. Devin was striking—dark - complexioned with a smile that could light up a room. His grin was inviting and mischievous at best, the kind that drew women in without him even trying. He had an easygoing charm and a playful energy that made him fun to be around.

Andrea, whom Devin lovingly called “Andrea” while everyone else called her “Red,” was stunning in her own way. She earned her nickname from her fiery red hair that framed her freckled face, complementing her warm hazel eyes. Her free spirit radiated joy and confidence, creating a balance to Devin’s more grounded nature. Together, they seemed like the perfect match—at least in the beginning.

Devin grabbed the house phone and called Tasha. His voice shook as he asked her what was going on. I stood frozen, my body pressed against the wall as I watched him. When Tasha answered, her voice was heavy, her words deliberate.

“It’s my car,” she said quietly. “Elijah was driving it.”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. The pieces were finally falling into place, but they weren’t forming the picture I wanted to see.

“He’s gone,” she continued. “The machines are keeping him alive, but I have to make the decision to pull the plug.”

Devin fell to his knees, gripping the phone tightly, his voice breaking under the weight of his grief.

“Please, Tasha, don’t do it,” he begged, desperation pouring from every word. “God’s not done with him yet. Just wait for me—I can make you see that. If nothing else, let me say goodbye. One last time. Please, Tasha, just wait.”

His sobs filled the room—raw, unfiltered—faith and hope clinging to every breath in the face of unbearable loss.

As the call ended, he grabbed the bottle I had been holding, took several deep swallows, and wiped his mouth. His face was a mix of devastation and determination.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady. “We’re going to make it to him before it’s too late.”