Over the next two days, word spreads like wildfire. Even though only 14 people had attended that first meeting, once the grapevine got to buzzing, more than 100 interested friends asked if they could be of help.

“What!” Cassie couldn’t believe it. “Over a hundred?” She stared at the cellphone in her hand. “That’s nuts!” she said, pushing it back to her ear.

“Well, you may as well sit down, and brace yourself. They are demanding you speak to them. Now, before you start balking, Cassie, listen to me.”

“No way!” Cassie snapped.

“To them, you are a rock star.” Rex was unflappable.  You may not want to be. You may not think it is fair. But, you are extremely vital to many of them.”

“Rex … I’m a nobody. Just this girl from Havre de Grace.”

“I beg to differ with you, dear. You may be average. But your message is not. And that makes you a very special messenger. Doesn’t it?” She waited. Cassie said nothing.

“I will stall as long as I can, kiddo. What’s today?” She answered herself, looking at the time-date on her phone. “June 25^th. You have until July 15^th. That’s when the Fred Vogt chapel is next available.”

“Vogt Chapel???” Cassie was speechless. “This is going too far, Rex. Next thing you’ll tell me, Dr. Roger will be there!”

“He’s the one who blessed it, dear,” Rexanne said. “Besides, Reverend Barry has offered to help you prepare. If you would like.”

“Oh – I would like, all right!” Cassie hesitated. “That is – if I agree to do this.”

“You don’t have a choice Cassie. Remember, the assignment is not coming from me. Or from the group. It’s coming from Everly.” And to that last point Cassie had no response.

I’m right back at my father’s desk, Cassie though to herself, as he struggled with another bout of Writer’s Block. She wanted to ask Jake for help, a public speaker by trade. But she would have to wait patiently for his return from Montreal.

On June 28^th, she headed downstairs to his office to ‘pick his brain,’ as he was prone to say. But as she descended the stairs, she could hear more and more of a heated conversation he was having with someone on the phone.

In all the time she had lived with him, she had never heard him so angry. So unhinged. Who was this man shouting every obscenity? Shrewdly, Cassie decided to try again another time, and quietly tiptoed backwards up the stairs.

After that incident, Cassie became more aware of Jake’s demeanor. Mostly, she avoided him, giving him his space. But when they did interact, he seemed more distant, more removed than before. At some point, she was thinking to confront him. But not today.

Rexanne was now in Cassie’s crosshairs. And rightly so, she mumbled to herself. She’s the genius that got me into this mess. Rexanne was more than happy to meet with Cassie, her best friend. Maybe her only true friend.

“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to talk about, Rex,” she pleaded. “Here’s what I have so far,” she said, handing her a single sheet of paper with a crude outline of topics of possible interest.

“You’re being too academic, Cass. This isn’t some school term paper or college thesis. Just talk from your heart. They already have all the dry details. Why don’t you just tell them how it felt.”

“How it felt?” Cassie asked, puzzled.

“You have been on a journey, a spiritual journey. All  along the way you had no idea where you were headed, how you would get there, and how you would know when you had reached your destination. Am I right?”

“You write the speech. Hell … you give the speech, Rex. And why not? You know me better than I know myself.”

“Nice try,” Rexanne rebutted, “but no one can describe your deepest feelings … but you.” She saw that Cassie was still anchorless. “Look, when you first started with Dr. Newton, what was your single strongest emotion? Just one word?”

“Fear.”

“Fear of what?” Rexanne prodded.

“Fear of the process. Intimidation working with the famous Dr. Michael Newton. Maybe … fear of what I might find out.” She hesitated. “That Lizzy was dead.”

“Okay. And then, after the a month or two, did you have different feelings?”

“Well, I was no longer afraid of the process. And I had become sort of “friends” with Vimh. And,” she joked, “ why shouldn’t I? Vimh knew me as well as I knew myself.”

“Ah, so I have some competition?” Rexanne kidded.

“But, seriously, the next flood of significant feelings were mainly about the contents of the sessions. Feelings of curiosity, and intrigue. Of introspection. At some point, I began to rethink my Catholic upbringing.”

“You were doubting your faith?”

“Oh, no! To the contrary. What I was discovering only strengthened my faith. But it did raise questions about the correctness of some of the teachings.” She repointed her thoughts. “But overall, I was fascinated, excited. I couldn’t wait for the next session.”

“Is that it?”

“No. Then came the overwhelm. There were so many new and mind-blowing thoughts. But they were all washing together. I – Dr. Newton and I – just knew that they were connected somehow, but we just couldn’t figure out how. And then came along Jake with his single, innocent question.”

“Which was?” Rexanne asked.

“He asked if Vimh had ever repeated some kind of mantra. And that led to me remembering the Time is Of Essence; Every Minute Counts remark that Vimh repeated over and over.”

“And, if I am correct, that is what led to solving the Minutes Mystery.”

“Yes. And then came the Game of Life vision, when I hit my head on that rock.”

“And don’t forget the decoded Message that is still being written. The Message that mentions something called Harmony Points.”

“Okay. Okay,” Cassie said, her arm pushing toward her. “I’m good,” she said, nodding with a proud smile.

“You got it, sis?” Rexanne asked. “Just … speak from the heart. Share your feelings, and you will ignite theirs. They need your encouragement. They want not just to help. Each of them wants to be a part of something bigger than themselves.”

“Isn’t that what we all want,” Cassie asked, as she scooped her papers together. “Lunch?”

“I can’t. Sorry. Have a dental appointment.” Rexanne answered.

Watching the Macy’s 4^th of July Fireworks with Jake in the basement theater room, during a long commercial he asked how her speech was going.

“Actually, surprisingly well. I think it will be okay, after all,” Cassie said.

“Well, just remember this. Every speech is always three different speeches.”

“Huh?”

“Yep. The one you write. The one you give. And …” looking up at her, “the one you wish you gave.”

The fireworks were resuming.

It was a Wednesday morning when Cassie walked into the Main House to check the fridge before heading to town for groceries. As she moved through the kitchen, loud voices echoed up from the basement.

Pausing, she realized it was only Jake—once again, he was yelling at someone on the phone. This time, though, she decided she wouldn’t avoid him. Not this time. But … now wasn’t the right moment.

That evening, Jake gave her the perfect opening when he came by the guesthouse to thank her for the groceries.

“Jake,” she began carefully, “I don’t make a habit of eavesdropping, but I’ve overheard you twice now—yelling at someone on the phone.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got it under control,” Jake said, brushing her off. “But thanks for the concern.”

Cassie’s frustration simmered. “Why don’t you confide in me? You listen to all my problems, but when you’re hurting, you keep it locked up. It’s not fair, and it hurts, Jake.”

“Back off, Cassie. This isn’t something you need to worry about,” he snapped. “I told you—I’ve got it handled. Now, drop it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s time I found my own place. If you can’t trust me now, you never will.”

Jake’s tone softened. “Slow down, okay? No one’s going anywhere. I just … need to handle some things on my own.”

Cassie stood there, shaking with a mix of anger and worry. “I’m done, Jake. Either talk to me, or I’m gone.”

Jake sighed, finally relenting. He sat down heavily in the easy chair and accepted the beer she handed him. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I owe you an explanation.”

He took a swig and settled back. “It’s this client, Technikon Construction. I’ve had him for four years, installed management software in his offices across 17 states. Great guy.

“But then … he went to Venezuela, got kidnapped by a gang, and while they held him for ransom, he contracted some rare form of dengue fever. Paralyzed him from the waist down.”

Cassie’s eyes widened. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah. After that, he had to sell his company. The buyers were British—a liquidation firm.”

“What’s that mean?”

“They strip a company of its assets to make money. They dismantle it piece by piece for maximum profit.”

“Is that what happened to his company? How did it affect you?”

Jake looked bitter. “They stopped paying me. I wasn’t just out my time—I had laid out a ton of money for travel expenses. So yeah, I’ve been fighting to get what they owe me.”

Cassie leaned in. “And the phone calls?”

“Six months ago, I gave up on the dunning emails. I escalated the matter all the way up to the CEO. What really fried by biscuits was he wouldn’t even return my calls.

“So I warned him—told him I’d do one final software update. But if they didn’t pay up within ten days, I’d take necessary action.”

“What kind of action?” Cassie asked, alarmed. “Did you sue them?”

Jake laughed without humor. “Suing would take forever. Plus .. even if you get a judgment, you still have to collect on it. No, I went with something more immediate. Sweet revenge.”

“What do you mean?” Cassie pressed.

“That last software update? It wasn’t a favor—it was a trap. I planted a time bomb.”

“A time bomb?!”

“A malware code, set to wipe out all their data – that only I could disarm. It was set to go off in ten business days.”

Cassie’s jaw dropped. “Did it go off? Or did they finally pay?”

Jake shook his head. “Nope. The time bomb went off, shut down all 34 sites nationwide. I’m guessing that didn’t help the value of the company.”

Cassie was stunned. “So that’s what the phone calls have been about?”

“Oh yeah. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall. At the very same moment, at 34 job sites across the country, when they turned on their computers, on the screen it read: “Bye-bye. And then went to a black screen.”

“No way!” Cassie said.

Jake proudly joined he laughter. “Now, he’s threatening to sue me, put a lien on this property. But I’m not worried. I spend my life in courtrooms as an expert witness. He’s just trying to scare me.”

“Jake … are we going to lose this place?”

“Nah,” he said with a wave of his hand. “He’s all talk. I’m sorry, though—I shouldn’t have let my stress get to you.”

Cassie sighed in relief but looked at him sternly. “See? Wasn’t that easier? Letting me in?”

Jake chuckled, though it was half-hearted. “It’s not easy for me to let anyone in, Cass.”

“Well,” she said, softening her tone, “it helps to share. Even if it’s just writing it down, getting it out somehow. You know, write yourself a letter and then file it away in a drawer.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “You think I don’t write things down?” He pointed to a bookshelf in the corner. “Middle shelf. Check it out.”

She squinted at the titles. “What are these? ‘Me and My Shadow’? ‘Torah’? ‘King’s Serum’? ‘Over the Edge’? What are these? ‘Understanding and Being Understood’?

“All stuff I’ve written,” he said, almost shy. “The last one was for Rexanne and the kids. The others? Just for me. My way of getting it all out.”

Cassie looked at him, surprised. “Can I read them?”

He nodded. “Sure, but only you. No one else. Got it?”

She agreed, and a silence settled between them until Jake stood and stretched. “It’s late. Time for bed. And I’ve got a wah-wah.”

“A what?”

“Ask George Harrison,” Jake said with a grin, leaving Cassie laughing in his wake.

While Jake and Cassie were trying to craft a relationship between them, down off the mountain Rexanne had been living her own secret drama for over a year – a story that Cassie knew nothing about .

It all centered around a young girl who had unexpectedly woven herself into the Dorfman family’s heart. The reason Cassie was left in the dark? Simple. The timing was never quite right.

Maggie’s journey to becoming part of the Dorfman family was anything but straightforward. It took time – fourteen long months at Denver Children’s Home. In the beginning, her life at DCH wasn’t all bad, at least compared to what she had known before.

When Maggie first arrived, she was a handful – rebellious, angry, determined to keep everyone at arm’s length. She broke rules, acted out, and stayed far from the other kids, refusing to let herself fit in. But after countless emotional battles and too many nights spent crying alone, something inside her shifted.

She began to realize that her life in Maryland had never been what anyone would call happy. Her mother’s alcoholism, the string of unstable men she let into their home – it all left Maggie living in constant fear of abandonment, or worse.

And when she hit the streets of Denver, things got even darker. Homeless, too young to work, she scrounged for food from restaurant leftovers or trays left in hotel hallways. The city was merciless. Survival was a day-to-day struggle.

Compared to that, DCH didn’t seem so bad. She had a roof over her head, meals on the table, even snacks whenever she wanted. There was a TV, teachers, a nurse on call when she got sick. She even had a couple of kids she might dare to call friends.

Twice a year, Mile Hi Church hosted a special event that was all about bringing joy to the kids from the Denver Children’s Home. They’d invite the children to stay overnight, turning the church into a lively, buzzing space. The Mile Hi Youth Group joined in, making it an exciting weekend for anyone under eighteen.

Back in September 2009, the sleepover landed on a Friday night, and for two days, the place was filled with more than 60 kids, energy and laughter echoing through the halls. Among them were Maggie Lane, Brian Dorfman, and Leslie Dorfman.

Somehow, the three of them just clicked. Maybe it wasn’t so surprising—they all shared a painful bond, having lost a parent in tragic accidents not long before. That kind of grief doesn’t need words; it’s a connection all its own.

But what really grabbed Rexanne’s attention was how her two kids seemed to light up around Maggie. There was a spark there, something deeper than just friendship.

It wasn’t just Rexanne who noticed. The counselors and teachers at DCH were seeing a change in Maggie too. Her mood was lifting, like she’d found a little piece of herself in that connection with Brian and Leslie.

It didn’t take much persuasion from Brian and Leslie for Rexanne to approach DCH about the idea of having Maggie over for the occasional weekend. What started as a simple arrangement—Maggie staying with them every other weekend—quickly became more than just a visit.

Over the course of a year, those weekends turned into weekly stays, then twice a week. The bond between them deepened with each visit, and before long, Maggie felt less like a guest and more like part of the family.

One afternoon, Rexanne pulled Maggie aside for a private conversation. Her voice was gentle but filled with purpose. “Maggie, how would you feel about leaving DCH? Coming to live with us… permanently?”

She didn’t even get to finish the sentence. Maggie’s eyes welled up with tears before Rexanne could say another word. Her voice trembled as she whispered, “Is this for real?”

Rexanne nodded, and that was it. The floodgates opened. Maggie cried openly, arms thrown around Rexanne as if she never wanted to let go. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she kept repeating, her words barely audible through the tears.

Rexanne held her close, letting her cry it out. Then, with a soft smile, she added, “There’s just one thing. DCH told me they’d need to be legally off the hook for this to happen. I’d have to file for legal guardianship. Are you okay with that?”

Maggie’s arms tightened around Rexanne, her answer clear without a word.

The legal process would take three long months. Rexanne wasted no time, filing the paperwork just days after her heart-to-heart with Maggie, thanks to the help of the DCH administrators. Every step felt like a waiting game, but there was a silver lining. During the interim, between the application and the judge’s ruling, DCH agreed to let Maggie stay with the Dorfmans twice a week.

Those extra days were more than just a temporary arrangement—they were a glimpse into what life would soon be like. Every visit brought Maggie closer to making the Dorfmans her forever family, while they all held their breath, counting down the days until it was official.

In mid-June, even overshadowing Maggie’s high school graduation, the long-awaited news finally arrived. Rexanne tore open the official envelope, her hands trembling as she pulled out the trifold paper. The weight of what she was about to read was too overwhelming to stand.

With the letter shaking in her hand, she forced her eyes to focus. “The District Court Judge within the 18th Judicial District Court, for the County of Arapahoe, has approved the legal guardianship…”

Maggie was officially, legally part of the family. Rexanne’s heart pounded, knowing this moment would hit each of them differently. But she instantly knew what to do next—how to mark the occasion.

She decided to drop the bombshell during dinner at their favorite spot: Golden Corral. Brian had always called it “the trough” with a grin, poking fun at the endless buffet, but tonight it would be more than just a meal—it would be a memory.

As they sat down in the bustling restaurant, Rexanne could barely contain her excitement. She watched her three kids, Maggie now included, laugh and chat as if they’d known each other their whole lives. When the time felt right, Rexanne cleared her throat, drawing their attention.

“Well,” she began, her eyes twinkling, “I have some news that I think you’ll like.”

She didn’t even have to say it. The way she smiled, the look in her eyes—it was all the confirmation they needed. Maggie’s eyes widened, her hands instinctively covering her mouth.

“It’s official,” Rexanne said, her voice full of warmth. “Maggie, you’re staying with us. For good.”

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Then, all at once, the kids erupted into cheers, Maggie’s face breaking into the widest smile Rexanne had ever seen.

The excitement was so overwhelming that they did something unthinkable for kids their age—they skipped dessert. Brian and Leslie were too eager to get home and start making room for their new sister.

Back at the house, the real work began. Brian dashed into the garage to dig out the bunk bed they’d borrowed from a church member months earlier. Its parts lay scattered, forgotten like relics in the dust.

Without missing a beat, Brian grabbed the pieces, insisting he could handle it alone. “I’m a guy. I’ve got this,” he said, flexing with a grin as he carried them, one by one, to Leslie’s room.

Rexanne joined him, and together they set to work, building the bunk bed piece by piece. Meanwhile, Leslie and Maggie tackled the closet and dresser, rearranging space for Maggie’s things. Boxes of her belongings—stuff that had been sitting in the garage, untouched for months—were finally being unpacked.

With every drawer filled, every hanger added, it was as if Maggie was reclaiming more than just a room. She was settling into a life, a family, where she finally belonged.

As they worked together in Leslie’s bedroom, they all laughed, planned, and rearranged furniture, turning the room into something special. It wasn’t just about fitting in a bed—it was about welcoming Maggie into a space where she would finally feel like she truly belonged. For the first time, Maggie wasn’t just visiting. She was home.

That night, as Maggie rested her head on the soft pillow in the upper bunk, a quiet smile lingered on her face. She stared at the ceiling, the weight of the day finally giving way to a peaceful calm.

For now, in Ken Caryl, Maggie had something she’d never had before—a real family. A place that felt like home, where warmth and love wrapped around her like a blanket. For the first time in her life, she felt truly safe. Safe enough to close her eyes and, without a shadow of doubt, believe she was loved.