Eden's Promise Read Free Page A

invasions. We didn’t feel safe there, anymore, and we’d been here for your fall festival in October and remembered how gorgeous and welcoming it was here. It seemed...safe.”
    Terror gripped her as she pictured her sister going through that panic, that fear. Was she safe? Did she have supplies? Guilt swamped Eden as she recalled the fresh eggs she’d had for breakfast.  
    Eden’s father walked in then. “What skills do you have that can contribute to our community?” he asked without preamble.  
    The man who’d been speaking blinked. “I—I’m a lawyer.”
    Eden’s father snorted. “Worthless now.”
    “I’m a teacher,” the woman said, leaning forward around one of the children.
    “I can fish,” the second man said, desperation coloring his voice.
    “Look around you,” Eddie McKay said. “All these people can.”
    “Yes, but I can provide for these people. We won’t use your supplies. We just want a safe place to stay. This is my wife and my two kids. He’s my brother. Please.”
    Eddie considered, then shook his head. “No. We can’t use you. You have to find someplace else.”
    The woman with the two kids widened her eyes. “You’d send us back? People are—people are—” She looked down at her children. “The violence is terrible. I can’t risk my children.”
    “We don’t have enough supplies to shelter people who come to us. I’m very sorry.”
    “The children, then. Can you take them?” she asked, her voice rising. “Please. It’s Thanksgiving. Please.”
    Her words jolted Eden. She’d lost track of the days without mail and a regular schedule. How could she have forgotten Thanksgiving, when this year they had so much to be thankful for? Perhaps it didn’t seem it, but they were alive, and safe from the violence, and had plenty of stores, thanks to her father’s paranoia.
    Eden knelt before her and put a soothing hand on hers. She turned to look up at her father. “Dad, you can’t. It would be heartless.”
    His eyes softened when he looked at her. “I know the consequences, Eden, but we can’t afford to risk our own lives by running out of supplies. They need to go, if they can’t contribute.”
    “I can do anything,” the lawyer said, his voice rising in desperation. “I can—any place you need me.”
    Her father opened his mouth to say something but John Rayburn stepped forward.  
    “I own a farm. My son is gone, I need an extra hand.”
    “I’ll do it,” the man said, rising to his feet. “Whatever you need. Whatever you need. Thank you. Please. Please let us stay.”
    Her father snorted and spun away on his heel.
     
    ***
     
    That was the last time her father showed mercy. The boats came with fair regularity. Her father interviewed each—privately now, occasionally with Damien—but without the entire town watching. He sent most away, in tears and pleading, but a few were allowed to stay. A mechanic and a plumber now lived on the island with their families. The additions made the distribution of supplies decrease for every family. Since Eden was in charge of the distribution, she knew the dangers of allowing more people to stay, though sending them away made her feel less and less human each time. The stories the people told, the pleas they made to be allowed to stay, chilled her to her bones.  
    “Dad, we need to think about going to the mainland and try to find supplies before there are no more left,” she said one morning, entering his office.  
    He looked up. “We’re fine. And you’ve heard the reports coming from the people who try to come here about what it’s like over there. The supplies aren’t there, either, and it’s too dangerous to send anyone across. Already we’ve lost eight people who tried. We’re fine for now with the Rayburn and Wyatt farms, and fishing. I’m not willing to risk anyone yet.”
    She was convinced he was wrong about waiting—the longer they waited, the harder supplies would be to come by. The people on