The Breaking Point by Karen Ball Page B

put things over on their parents, how they got away with stuff. But this was different.
    Renee couldn’t ever remember lying to her parents before.
    You didn’t lie … you just didn’t tell him the whole truth.
Same thing. Same stupid thing.
    She pulled the covers over her head, telling herself to go to sleep. She couldn’t. She flopped her pillow over her face, muttering, “Sleep, idiot!”
    It didn’t help.
    It wasn’t that she was afraid of being punished. Her parentswould be fair; they always were. No, what had her stomach clenching with this terrible sick feeling was one simple truth: She’d let her father down. And what would happen if she told him about it? He’d be hurt, disappointed. What if he never trusted her again?
    Your dad loves you, no matter what.
    Maybe so, but why put him—and herself—through what was bound to be a painful moment when nothing had happened?
    I’m so sorry, God.
    The truth will set you free.
    She dug her fingers into the pillow. Right now all it was doing was making her miserable.
    Finally, after another half hour of tossing and turning, she threw the covers back, grabbed her bathrobe, and stomped from her room. Her brothers’ rooms were dark, and she could hear their snores as she trudged downstairs.
    Her mother was in the kitchen, finishing the dishes. She glanced at Renee, her expression reflecting surprise. “What’s the matter, honey? Can’t sleep?”
    She gave a quick shrug. “I … I just need to talk with Dad. You think he’s still awake?”
    Mom nodded. “I think so. I see a light on back there.”
    She forced her feet to move, even though each seemed to weigh about a ton, and made her way back to her parents’ bedroom, stopping in the doorway.
    Her father glanced up from the book he was reading. “Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”
    Renee shrugged, then came into the room, hating the unfamiliar awkwardness that cloaked her as she stood at her father’s bedside. Words poured from her heart, but they couldn’t push past the constriction in her throat.
    He laid his book down. “What’s up, Renee?”
    Her stomach twisted as she pulled up a chair and sank into it. “I need to talk with you.” She couldn’t look him in theeyes, so she stared at the bedspread, plucking at a stray thread, as she forced the words out. When she finished telling him what had happened, she looked at him. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
    His somber expression made the ache in her heart even heavier. “I won’t say I’m not disappointed, Renee, but I’m glad you told me. And I forgive you.”
    She lay her head on his chest, sniffling into the bedspread. When she felt his hand on her hair, the question that had been plaguing her slipped free.
    “Do … do you still love me, Dad?” She knew it was foolish, knew what the answer would be even before she asked it, but she had to ask it all the same.
    “Oh, honey.” His hand on her hair was gentle. “Nothing you could ever do would make me stop loving you. I may be disappointed or frustrated at times, but I’ll always love you.”
    She threw her arms around him. “I love you, Boppo.”
    “I love you, too, sweetheart.” He patted her on the back. “Now, go get some sleep, okay?”
    She nodded and jumped up, then met her mother coming into the room.
    “Everything okay, dear?”
    Renee threw her arms around her, dancing her around the room. “Everything’s great.”
    Her mother laughed and gave her a hug. “Good. Now get some sleep.”
    Renee padded back to her room, feeling lighter than the air she breathed. It was as though, without her even realizing it, the mountains surrounding the valley where she lived had been sitting on her chest. Now that crushing weight was gone. She jumped onto her bed and grabbed her Bible, then flopped onto her stomach. The Bible opened to Psalms.
    Renee’s eyes moved to Psalm 32, and her breath caught in her throat. She stared at the words on the clean white page.
    Oh, what joy for those whose rebellion is