Sister Dear

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Authors: Laura McNeill

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ACCLAIM FOR LAURA MCNEILL

“Laura McNeill has a gift for writing taut prose while delving deep into characters. A harrowing tale that explores love and trust and the lengths one will go to save the things that are most important. Highly recommended!”

—A
NITA
H
UGHES, AUTHOR OF
F
RENCH
C
OAST
ON
S
ISTER
D
EAR

“McNeill's debut is a heartstopping, nail-biting suspense novel that held me captive until I read the last page. Evocative writing and a compelling voice add to the mesmerizing effect of this excellent debut. I'll be looking for her next book!”

—C
OLLEEN
C
OBLE
,
USA T
ODAY
BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF
T
HE
I
NN AT
O
CEAN
'
S
E
DGE
AND THE
H
OPE
B
EACH NOVELS ON
C
ENTER OF
G
RAVITY

“A breathless, gut-wrenching, satisfying page-turner about the real superheroes of the world who stand up to evil and won't back down.”

—E
RIN
H
EALY, AUTHOR OF
M
OTHERLESS
AND
T
HE
B
AKER
'
S
W
IFE
ON
C
ENTER OF
G
RAVITY

“A bold and poignant look into an imploding marriage, told in a chorus of assured voices. I found myself so invested in Ava, a woman finally ready to examine the dysfunctional family dynamics that have shaped her and rise to courage. The story took me by the hand, bold and tender, and didn't let me go until its extremely satisfying conclusion.
Center of Gravity
is a compelling, fierce, and ultimately hopeful tale, and McNeill is a writer to watch.”

—J
OSHILYN
J
ACKSON
,
N
EW
Y
ORK
T
IMES
BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF
S
OMEONE
E
LSE
'
S
L
OVE
S
TORY

“This powerful debut by a former television anchor is a suspenseful and haunting tale of a marriage spiraling wildly out of control. The story line is particularly unsettling as it mirrors the headlines found in newspapers and court cases everywhere. This title will resonate with readers of contemporary women's fiction and fans of Gina Holmes.”

—
L
IBRARY
J
OURNAL
STARRED REVIEW OF
C
ENTER OF
G
RAVITY

“This incredibly fast-paced tale is difficult to put down, mostly because the reader gets invested in the characters and won't want to stop until it all plays out.”

—
R
OMANTIC
T
IMES
, 4 1/2
STAR REVIEW OF
C
ENTER OF
G
RAVITY

“Readers will find this tale of domestic suspense deeply compelling as a once-happy family unit disintegrates and a woman summons her heretofore hidden strength. Told from multiple perspectives, McNeill's gripping tale explores family, trust, and how lives are rebuilt.”

—
B
OOKLIST
REVIEW OF
C
ENTER OF
G
RAVITY

“There's plenty of chills in this thriller about twisted family secrets that will keep pulses pounding.”

—
P
ARKERSBURG
N
EWS
& S
ENTINEL
REVIEW OF
C
ENTER OF
G
RAVITY

© 2016 by Laura McNeill

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.

Thomas Nelson titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

Publisher's Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

ePub Edition April 2016: ISBN 9780718030933

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: McNeill, Laura, author.

Title: Sister dear / Laura McNeill.

Description: Nashville: Thomas Nelson, [2016]

Identifiers: LCCN 2015041860 | ISBN 9780718030926 (softcover)

Subjects: LCSH: Domestic fiction. | GSAFD: Mystery fiction. | Mystery fiction. | Christian fiction.

Classification: LCC PS3613.C58623 S56 2016 | DDC 813/.6—dc23 LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015041860

16 17 18 19 20 21 RRD 6 5 4 3 2 1

For Joshua

CONTENTS

ONE. ALLIE

TWO. ALLIE

THREE. CAROLINE

FOUR. SHERIFF GAINES

FIVE. ALLIE

SIX. CAROLINE

SEVEN. ALLIE

EIGHT. EMMA

NINE. CAROLINE

TEN. ALLIE

ELEVEN. EMMA

TWELVE. SHERIFF GAINES

THIRTEEN. EMMA

FOURTEEN. ALLIE

FIFTEEN. CAROLINE

SIXTEEN. EMMA

SEVENTEEN. ALLIE

EIGHTEEN. CAROLINE

NINETEEN. EMMA

TWENTY. NATALIE

TWENTY-ONE. CAROLINE

TWENTY-TWO. EMMA

TWENTY-THREE. ALLIE

TWENTY-FOUR. CAROLINE

TWENTY-FIVE. EMMA

TWENTY-SIX. EMMA

TWENTY-SEVEN. SHERIFF GAINES

TWENTY-EIGHT. ALLIE

TWENTY-NINE. CAROLINE

THIRTY. ALLIE

THIRTY-ONE. EMMA

THIRTY-TWO. ALLIE

THIRTY-THREE. EMMA

THIRTY-FOUR. ALLIE

THIRTY-FIVE. EMMA

THIRTY-SIX. ALLIE

THIRTY-SEVEN. EMMA

THIRTY-EIGHT. ALLIE

THIRTY-NINE. CAROLINE

FORTY. CAROLINE

FORTY-ONE. SHERIFF GAINES

FORTY-TWO. ALLIE

FORTY-THREE. SHERIFF GAINES

FORTY-FOUR. CAROLINE

FORTY-FIVE. CAROLINE

FORTY-SIX. ALLIE

FORTY-SEVEN. ALLIE

FORTY-EIGHT. ALLIE

FORTY-NINE. EMMA

FIFTY. CAROLINE

FIFTY-ONE. EMMA

FIFTY-TWO. ALLIE

FIFTY-THREE. ALLIE

FIFTY-FOUR. SHERIFF GAINES

FIFTY-FIVE. EMMA

FIFTY-SIX. CAROLINE

FIFTY-SEVEN. ALLIE

FIFTY-EIGHT. ALLIE

FIFTY-NINE. CAROLINE

EPILOGUE: ALLIE

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ENJOY AN EXCERPT: CENTER OF GRAVITY

PROLOGUE: AVA

CHAPTER 1: JACK

ONE

ALLIE

2016

In her final minutes as an inmate at Arrendale State Prison, Allie Marshall's body pulsed with tension. Eyes averted, managing any movements with robotic precision, she remained on guard.

Only moments to go.

A sliver of time. Not even a quarter hour. An unremarkable measurement, when held up against the billion other moments in any person's natural life. But after a decade inside, those last twelve minutes seemed the longest span in all of eternity.

To her right, rows of monitors blinked and recorded everything across the sprawling campus in Habersham County. Though the angles differed, the subject never changed: women in identical tan-collared shirts and shapeless pants. Inmates on work detail, in the cafeteria, in dormitories.

A corrections officer sat nearby, her pale blue eyes scanning the screens. To this worker, to all of them, Allie was GDC ID, followed by ten numbers. Nothing more. Inside the thick metal bars, Allie's life was suspended, a delicate fossil in amber.

Until now. Ten more minutes.

Her reflection stared back, unblinking, in the shatterproof glass window near the door. Green eyes flecked with gold, dark-blonde hair tucked in a loose ponytail, barely visible brackets at the corners of her lips.

Maybe, Allie thought, she'd forgotten how to smile and laugh. Happiness seemed unreachable, as if the feeling itself existed on the summit of an ice-tipped mountain shrouded by storm clouds. Indeed, the rush of pure, unadulterated joy belonged only to those with freedom. Allie's memories of it—her daughter's birth, Caroline's first smile, first steps—were fleeting and distant.

Instead, the perpetual motion of prison, the waking, sleeping, and sameness, all blended together, like a silent black-and-white movie on a continuous loop.

Until the news of her parole.

At first, the concept of liberty seemed impossible—a hand trying to catch and hold vapor. The judge had sentenced Allie to sixteen years, and she fully anticipated serving each and every one of them. She didn't believe she'd be granted an early release—she couldn't—until she stepped beyond the walls and barbed wire and chain-link fence, barriers that kept her from everyone and everything she'd ever loved.

Allie focused on breathing, stretching her lungs, exhaling to slow her pulse. Her own belongings, a decade old, lay nearby. Keys that wouldn't open doors. A watch with a dead battery. A light khaki jacket with a photo of then five-year-old Caroline tucked in the pocket, one pair of broken-in Levis, and a white cotton shirt. Gingerly, with her fingertips, she reached for the clothing, then gripped the bundle tight to her chest.

A second guard motioned for Allie to change quickly in a holding room. With the door shut, she pulled the shapeless prison garb over her head and picked up the shirt. The material, cool and light, brushed against her skin like gauze. Allie shivered.

For ten years, all she'd known was the rasp of her standard-issue navy jacket, the scrape of her worn white tennis shoes along the sidewalk.

Back in Brunswick, Allie had filled her closet with easy summer shifts and crisp linen pants. Now her body was different too—the soft curves had dissolved, leaving lean muscle behind. The jeans hung loosely around her waist and hips. The top billowed out in waves from her shoulders.

Nothing would fit, she reminded herself. Not much in her past life would.

And that was all right.

When she walked out of Lee Arrendale State Prison, home to thousands of female inmates, Allie didn't want reminders. No indigo tattoo inked down her back or neck. No numbers or symbols etched into her arms or fingers. The only external validation of time served was a faint scar that traced her eyebrow.

The real proof of her internment lay underneath it all. Below the seashell white of Allie's skin, hidden in blood, tendons, and muscle, the experience indelibly marked on her soul. An imprint made by incident, mistake, and tragedy.

Evidence, and lack of it.

“I'm innocent,” she'd insisted to everyone who would listen. Her lawyers fought hard, rallied a few times, but in the end, the jury convicted her. Voluntary manslaughter.

A year later, Allie's appeal failed. Then money ran out. Her father turned his attention back to his veterinary practice after his cardiologist warned the stress of another trial might kill him. Her mother did her best to minimize worry while Emma, her tempestuous and fun-loving sister, assumed the role of doting aunt and guardian to Caroline.

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