Day Break

DAY BREAK A POSSESSION POINT MYSTERY JILL SANDERS This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Text copyright © 2023 Jill Sanders Printed in the United States of America All rights reserved. DIGITAL ISBN: 978-1-945100-67-3 PRINT ISBN: 9798386327552 Print ISBN V2: 978-1-945100-80-2 Copyeditor: Erica Ellis–inkdeepediting.com No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. SUMMARY After spending the last year of her life behind bars for a crime she didn’t commit, Chloe is now free. She’s also divorced, jobless, homeless, and completely alone in the world. If not for the kindness of a stray dog, she would have just lay down and let the world take the rest of what she had. But that dog showed her kindness and led her to a stranger who opened her eyes to the good in the world. Then the tender-hearted man’s grandson steps into the picture and, suddenly, her past doesn’t look so terrible. Lane Robinson comes from a long line of stuck-up, blue-blooded asshats. His grandfather, who is a recently reformed asshat, is the one exception. Since the rest of the family has disowned the ailing man, Lane steps in and does what he can. But then a strange woman shows up and claims that she’s his grandfather’s caretaker. She causes Lane’s libido to spike, but Lane doesn’t trust easily. Especially after learning all about the woman’s dark and dangerous past. To all my wonderful friends and family who have been with me on this crazy ride. To my husband, who has stuck with me for twenty-nine years! To my amazing editor, for hanging in there for ninety books! To my readers, I hope you enjoy my ninetieth book. CHAPTER ONE “Our eternal message of hope is that dawn will come.” - Martin Luther King, Jr. I remembered the worst days of my life and stupidly believed that they were behind me. I was convinced that I was going to finally be freed from my enslavement. Freed from the chains that had bound me for all twenty-six years of my life. I’d spent half of that life as a wife, controlled by the monster that waited in the darkness, who caused me to cower in fear every waking moment of my life. But he couldn’t hurt me anymore. He’d been the beast that demanded everything from me and then required even more, always more. There wasn’t enough in heaven or on earth to sate his hunger. Every move I made, he watched. He had fed on what I was, what I could give, day and night. He’d seemed starved for attention. My attention. The monster changed over the years, as did the demands, but always he had claimed what he saw as his right. And it seemed I was the only provider of the sustenance he required. I knew later on that I wasn’t the only one who had suffered at the foul demon’s hands. Nor, I wagered, would I be the last. Since I was finally free, at least for the time being, he would be forced to go elsewhere for his nutrition. “What are you in for?” the woman sitting next to me asked. I blinked, trying desperately not to let the tears that burned the back of my eyes fall. I knew better than to show weakness. I glanced over at the older woman and ran my eyes over her heavily lined face. I took in her frizzy gray hair and her thin lips. She bit them, and they were chapped around the edges from the cold air that was coming through the open windows of the bus. I desperately wished to be her. To have her life, no matter how hard it had been. Instead of answering her, I turned back towards the front and watched the tall city buildings grow farther apart from one another. I didn’t talk to strangers. I wasn’t here to make friends. I no longer cared what anyone thought of me. Or if they thought of me at all. I was dead inside. All of my emotions had perished at someone else’s hands years ago. Would I ever feel anything again? Why did I even care? “Hey, sweetie, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the older woman said, trying once again to spark up a conversation. “It’s a long trip up the river. I just thought we’d pass the time.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head on the window. It was cold. Too cold. Still, instead of jumping away or laying my head against the back of the seat, I suffered. Once again. The iciness numbing my skin was the only reminder that I was still alive. I must have fallen asleep at one point, and when the bus came to a stop, I jerked awake. Gut reaction. Every muscle in my body tensed, every nerve ending ready for what was to come. Then I remembered nothing was there. “Off,” someone said loudly. I stood, as did the rest of the women on the bus. I didn’t look to see who I was riding with. I didn’t care. I felt nothing. Standing in line, I kept my eyes on my shoes. Dull gray sneakers. Their white laces had turned a muddy white. “Sarah Meyers,” someone called out. They said it three times before I finally lifted my head. “Yes,” I said in a low voice. Suddenly, a large woman with noticeably short hair shoved her face directly in front of mine. She had nice eyes. “When I call your name, answer me. I won’t wait around for you. This isn’t some preppy bullshit school. Got that?” When she talked, spit flew out of her mouth and landed on my nose, eyes, cheeks, and lips. I didn’t care. I felt