Dr. Lydia Giddens has taken an oath to do no harm. But now she stands in the shadows of her success, wondering if honoring her profession is even possible. Surely, her family doesn’t expect her to jeopardize everything she’s worked so hard for all of her life. No matter. Age, death, and declining health have forced her predecessors to appoint her to this new role. She isn’t given a choice. As her powerful family’s new matriarch, she understands how their world works. She’s seen it up close, but she isn’t sure if she has the strength or the prowess to take on such a complex responsibility. There are certain obligations, and certain risks, associated with this hierarchy. What were they thinking? she wonders. After all, she has her own challenges, battling an incurable disease that could take her life at any moment…

TAYLOR JONES SAYS: In Woven by Bertha Connally Abraham, Lydia Giddens is a medical doctor with sickle cell anemia. She is also the head of a powerful family not opposed to crime to get what they want. As a doctor, Lydia has taken an oath to do no harm, and she wonders how she will reconcile the two roles, learning things about her family and loved one that are better not known. Her long-time friend, Dr. Jessie Cooper, also struggles with family problems and dark secrets that turn her world upside down. The lives of these two young doctors are woven together in ways that neither of them could imagine.

The story is both poignant and thought provoking, intense in places, and filled with wonderful characters. A very entertaining read.

REGAN MURPHY SAYS: Woven by Bertha Connally Abraham is the story of two young doctors, dedicated and compassionate, but plagued by dark family secrets and unsettling dilemmas. Lydia Giddens is suffering from sickle cell anemia. But, despite this crushing disease, she has been forced to step into her aunt’s role as head of a powerful crime family. Having taken the Hippocratic Oath to do no harm, Lydia wonders how her family expects her to fulfill her duties to both her profession and family. Meanwhile, Jessie Cooper has been dealing with the untimely death of her husband, only to discover that her own family has some dark secrets, and everything she thought she knew about herself is a lie. As these two young women struggle to come to terms with their individual challenges, they are unprepared for the connection of these the two families’ dark secrets, changing both of their lives forever.

Well written, thought provoking, and touching, Woven takes us deep into the underbelly of a crime family ruled by strong, independent women, with far-reaching consequences. It’s a story you will enjoy reading again and again.


Why her? Lydia had sworn to uphold the Hippocratic Oath. What made them believe she had the strength to lead a family shrouded in controversy? That unthinkable idea had her head reeling and her thoughts breaking off into tiny pieces. Taking on such a powerful role deeply rooted in an unconventional tradition scared her.

The magnitude of their expectation forced an old nemesis up from the abyss. Suddenly, the bold untimely attack of sickle cell anemia had her questioning her life expectancy and their decision. Beneath her unrelenting pain, she saw bits and pieces of her life flicker then leap like scenes in a movie.

She juggled a challenging career, a health crisis, and her new appointment. Lydia’s multifaceted lifestyle broached her from every conceivable direction. She thought no one noticed those half-eaten dinners.

Her husband gleaned every tangible clue. He knew he’d put it off long enough. “Babe, I’m worried. I think you need to see a doctor,” Jake said.

“I am a doctor, and I’m doing just fine.”

Her apparent arrogance shocked him. He snapped, “Babe, you’re not fine.” His agitation mimicked a spirited stallion prancing anxiously with a burr trapped beneath his saddle. “Lydia, unlike you, I’m obviously no Bible scholar, but I believe Dr. Luke can offer you some practical advice.”

As he watched, a tiny frown etched a wrinkle in her forehead until a smile appeared. It redefined the scowl.

The words “physicians heal thyself” popped into her head. She laughed out loud, amused that Jake, of all people, could recall any scriptures. Like a restless two-year-old, church service lasting longer than an hour usually drove him insane.

“Jake, I know you love me. I love you, too. What about all those people who depend on me?”

“Who will care for them when you’re not here? What about me?”

His selfless questions had merit, although investing in his worries had to wait. Her aging predecessors had chosen her. Their unanimous vote placed a monumental task upon shoulders they believed strong, courageous, and capable. What made them so sure of her? she wondered.

The role tugged at her rapidly beating heart with persistence like a deadly merciless force of nature. Scared? You bet. Could she willfully trample her oath if necessary for duty, for family?

Doubt crept in. Besides the rumors, Lydia knew her predecessors operated outside of the law.

Long after Jake kissed her good-bye and walked out, his concern shook her concentration, stripping away the enjoyment of her morning ritual. Suddenly, her usual second cup of coffee lost its appeal.

When she arrived at work, the clinic’s waiting room was already bursting at the seams with hopeful patients. She checked in. Then she grabbed her lab coat on the way to an unscheduled appointment.

The technician looked up when she entered the lab and smiled. “Good morning, Dr. G.”

“Good morning.” Her voice quaked as the air surrounding them filled with an immediate urgency. “I’ll need this test ASAP,” she said then passed him the handwritten request. Please let me know as soon as the results come back.”

“Yes, Dr. G.” Huh, no polite chatter, he thought.

Dr. G., the name a patient adoringly bestowed upon her quickly took on a life of its own then spread like germs in a classroom filled with sneezing, coughing kindergarteners. No one bothered calling her Dr. Giddens anymore. Well, almost no one.

All day long, an exhausting number of restless patients paraded through the exam rooms. In-between patient visits, she daydreamed about cuddling with Jake after a pleasurable and intimate candlelight dinner. When the last patient left, she hung up her lab coat flung her stethoscope on her desk, and walked out. Except for a few stiff joints and that nagging headache, their romantic evening turned out almost perfect. Around eleven o’clock he asked, “Babe, you coming to bed?”

“In a little while.”

Overseeing her dysfunctional family terrified her. Gatekeeper, wow! Her temples throbbed as sweat oozed from her pores. Even if she could muster enough courage to question their choice, she couldn’t rescind their decision. An already paved road stretched out before her. It wasn’t as if she could say no thank you. In the prime of her life, she discovered secrets destroy even ordinary lives. The things she knew seemed more threatening than the effects of her illness. One evening after tossing a little black book onto a burning fire, she watched the flames destroy its pages, but the memories remained forever seared in her membrane. Family secrets selectively haunted her daydreams. More often they caused her to wrestle with the small amount of sanity in her nightmares. Her aunts B J and Regina, those kindred spirits, shared an amazing sisterhood. But her Aunt Regina, the catalyst, secretly guided, always carefully grooming Lydia to accept the full weight of her destiny.

As Lydia and Jake lay next to each other, a sliver of light penetrated a small crack underneath the bathroom door then moved into their inner sanctuary. Her head sank into the softness of her pillow as each rhythmic breath played its own beautiful unrehearsed melody. He sighed then closed his eyes and tried not to imagine his life without her.

The next morning when Lydia woke, he had gone. Early or late, it didn’t matter what time she got to work, the overcrowding filled her day with predictably long hours. Finally, around mid-afternoon, she caught a much-needed break then sat down and massaged her aching, calloused feet. While she rested her weary eyes, the tech walked in. He found her slumped over a pile of patient files. “Dr. G., are you all right?”

She nodded. He handed her a battery of tests then quickly walked away. His abrupt departure came as a blatant reminder that not everyone had the strength to face her truth. She understood that all too well. The unsurprising results revealed an aggressive downward spiral of the disease. Sharing her concerns with someone who understood her disease like her friend Tommy—Dr. Tommy Calvin—proved hard enough. Certainly, she knew, it was almost impossible for a stranger to grasp. Tommy and his team had developed a new exciting drug that offered hope for thousands of others like her. Now, they awaited the FDA’s approval. She and Tommy chatted weekly about his mother’s progress after her stroke. From time to time, he voiced concern about the red tape encumbering the release of the drug. She listened attentively. He told her an anonymous donor funded his research for years. He had no idea who to thank for such a generous contribution.

Like today, every day brought something new. While those annoying aches and pains kept her up some nights, her patient load presented her with yet another challenge.

Lydia sighed. “Oh well!”

Her last patient sat waiting in a cold, isolated exam room. She got up and slowly pushed back her chair. Her legs folded like an accordion and then her body hit the floor with such force the loud thump echoed around the room.

“H-e-l-p! H-e-l-p!”

She heard someone repeatedly hurl those anxious words. Then the shadowy outline of her nurse, Rebecca, came into focus. Curious onlookers watched the staff lift her onto a gurney and then wheel her down a long narrow corridor into a waiting elevator. Before she could catalog that frightening moment, a man’s familiar voice snapped orders as the nurse gingerly wiped tiny beads of sweat forming on his brow.

He grabbed her hand. A faint smile crossed his lips. “You’re out of danger, Lydia.”

The underlying sincerity in his voice gave her reassurance. She closed her eyes. Obviously, the medication had stolen some consciousness. Every attempt to speak or swallow tickled the back of her irritated throat. She licked her parched lips. Nothing else worked. She kept repeating stay focused over and over in her head. Even that seemed an impossible task.

By her standards and those of her colleagues, Dr. Justin Rodgers tipped the scale. Her friend Justin’s boyish physique demanded more than a quick glance.

“Don’t try to speak, Lydia. You’ve had a rough time. Slow it down, girl. I’ll call in, Jessie.” Justin figured she needed no explanation. He smiled, rubbed her hands gently, then walked out.

Justin, Jessie, and Lydia—the trio met in medical school. The smart, beautiful Jessie had naturally tanned skin that appeared more luminous against the backdrop of her thick, coal-black woolly hair that, like hers, it had a mind of its own. Her suspenseful dark-brown eyes, with russet colored specks like rings of fire circling their circumference, lay hidden deep beneath layers of thick black lashes.

The door swung open. Jessie walked in. Lydia shivered then reached down and pulled the sheet up over her aching shoulders. Her jumbled thoughts bounced like a Ping-Pong ball from one corner of her mind to the next. Momentarily, all clarity fled.

Then she remembered her deceased friend, Jackson, saying, “Always trust your instincts, Lydia.”

Lydia savored Jackson’s wisdom. She hoped to one day scatter his knowledge like desirable springtime rains upon desolate crops. “Well, hello, Jessie! It’s wonderful to see you.” Then jokingly she asked, “What does my friend, the good doctor, think about all this?”

Lydia appeared calm. But, underneath, her nerves began disintegrating like splinters in a wind storm. Her eyes darted from one corner of the dismal room to the next. Empathy spilled out from every pore like sweat on a hot summer day. Finally, she understood how overwhelmed the families of her patients felt, squeezed into small cramped rooms bulging with intimidating monitors. Until this untimely episode, she’d successfully concealed her illness. Now in the wake of such a brutal assault, a tinge of regret made its debut. Life wasn’t fair. Sadly, she had experience in both arenas. She needed no reminder.

The door opened slowly. Jake walked over to Lydia’s bedside. Jessie pulled up a chair. Under her pensive stare, Jake’s lower lip quivered. Man up! he thought. No way would he fall apart in front of the stone goddess. Lydia would’ve seen shades of red if she had any inkling her knight in shining armor dubbed her friend cold and unfeeling. He liked Jessie. How odd that her lifestyle choices bothered him. Suddenly, as if she felt his distress, Lydia gripped his arm reassuringly.

Jessie took Lydia’s hand. “You really had me worried, girlfriend. I’m relieved you’re doing so much better. I’ll stop in again after rounds.”

The compassion in Jessie’s voice soothed the uneasiness building up inside of Lydia.

“Thanks, Jessie.”

“Lydia, I’ll be right back,” Jake said, and then he followed Jessie out of the room.

It seemed like he stayed gone a long time. Lydia felt disoriented. Every once in a while, a lucid memory traded places with voids in time. Briefly, she glanced backward at an evening when the dimly lit doctor’s lounge played host to a private moment. She’d forgotten some papers. In her haste to retrieve them, she stumbled upon a clandestine rendezvous. Low pleasurable moans floated through the air. Her lips curled upward into a fanciful smile. Everyone knew the lounge had a notorious reputation. She tiptoed in the direction of her locker. As she turned the corner, she glimpsed Jessie pinned against the wall in the devouring grip of Dr. Anthony St. Johns. Their eyes locked for a split second. Jessie looked away. The papers slipped from Lydia’s shaky hands and scattered all over the floor. Quickly, she scooped up the disheveled pile then backed out of the room.

Where had everyone gone? She sat alone, holding the same pile of crumpled papers when Jessie walked into the cafeteria. “Lydia, I hope you didn’t get the wrong idea. The situation’s more complicated than it looked.”

“Complicated! Carnal lust looks the same from any distance.”

The color drained from Jessie’s cheeks. She snapped. “How dare you judge me, Lydia?”

Lydia felt betrayed. No matter what, she expected that her friend would confide in her. Ironically, Jessie’s denial offended Lydia’s jaded sense of decency. She knew once fully vested in her family’s affairs, her duties would require unpleasant and sometimes distasteful tactical maneuvering. All of a sudden, she felt like a hypocrite.

After that breach of trust, Lydia and Jessie vigorously pursued their careers as an escape from the strained memory that evening left behind. Their friendship suffered, time passed, and despite the brief lull, the wound healed. Eventually, their friendship recovered. Destiny’s stake in their lives slowly began unfolding. Still, Jessie’s rapidly tumbling life resembled a powerful avalanche accelerating with reckless disregard down her own man-made mountain.

Lydia’s hospital room grew more daunting. She felt like a hostage trapped and completely alone. The drugs numbed her body, but her mind drifted through corridors, bridging the past with the present. She vividly recalled the anger and shame she felt after tossing a plate of soggy overcooked pasta into the trash. The statistics loomed. Sadly, every single day people somewhere went to bed hungry. Because of Jackson’s legacy, his endowment to her, Jake, and their friend Margie, his restaurant continuously met the needs of the community he loved.

The past kept hijacking her thoughts until the sound of their voices nudged her gently back into the present. Jake and Jessie walked back into the room. Lydia sat upright, relying on the pillows positioned directly behind her head. Year after year, the search for a cure taxed her spirit. Finally, she understood the crushing reality—this hospital visit gravely affected not only her but the future of her family. Her sisters and Jake needed the whole truth and not another layer of her lies. Maybe, that’s why their Aunt Regina created and strictly enforced an unwritten in case of emergency rule. She didn’t want any of them to ever feel alone or suffocated during a crisis. Her oral decree mandated that only one family member at a time travel into the eye of the storm out of a city to the south, east, or west. Fortunately, her aunt considered their husbands a bonus.

Lydia understood her family’s bedrock ideology. After a drunk driver killed their parents, she and her four sisters became wards of the court until their Uncle Roy and Aunt Regina assumed legal guardianship. They drilled the same unorthodox family principles into Lydia and her sisters with such force they smashed every idea that stood contrary to their beliefs. Their new guardian’s philosophy of dependence on God uncovered a fallacy that in their own power, they found it hard to accept His. By now, Lydia’s heart beat so loudly she thought they heard it pounding in her chest. She looked directly into Jessie’s eyes. Her voice shook. “Jessie, I need to tell Jake something.” Jessie stood up. “No, please stay.”

Jake raised his hand and pressed his fingers gently to her lips, “Everything will work out, Lydia, I promise. I’ve been waiting for you.”

How long? she wondered. She paused then turned her attention back to Jessie. “So, what’s the verdict?”

Confident she had another powerful advocate on her side, she grinned.

Jessie was shocked. She couldn’t believe Jake and Lydia kept something so life-changing from each other. Then suddenly, her pager buzzed.

“I need to take care of this,” she said and stepped out.

Jake picked up a magazine. He pretended to read. Again, Lydia’s mind stumbled backward then forward through the archives of her past. From the moment they met and, even during their grueling residency, Jessie kept disrupting the order of things, like the time she presented an alternative slant on a technique their instructor spent a lifetime perfecting. Very quickly, their worlds collided. Dr. Martin’s angry words soared like hot lava forced up from an active volcano. Jessie sprang to her feet. Finally, she’d had it up to her beautiful eyeballs with his pompous attitude. As she hammered home her point, her high-pitched attack grew more threatening. The veins in his neck bulged, his cheeks turned beet red, and his eyes popped like kernels of corn exposed to extreme heat. Her colleagues gaped.

Jessie bravely challenged a man powerful enough to crush her dreams. As a flicker of recognition flashed between them, Lydia proudly added courage to the evolving list of qualities she admired about her friend. However, it seemed strange that, with their distinctly different backgrounds, a solid friendship sprang up so quickly. But, over time, common threads of wisdom stitched their lives together like tiny squares in a quilt. Each stitch united their professions and, ultimately, their friendship until a workable and beautiful piece of art emerged.

Jessie stepped back into the room. Worry lines creased her forehead and arched her eyebrows upward. Lydia felt partially to blame for Jessie’s solemn disposition. Jake appeared more anxious than before. He tossed the magazine aside. It missed the chair. Then it hit the floor. The pages fluttered noisily. Jessie looked directly at him and then at Lydia. “Guys, I just received word that the preliminary tests show sickle cell anemia, but I won’t make an official ruling until the final test comes back.”

“I understand. Thanks, Jessie.”

“You’re welcome. Try to relax. I’ll see you in the morning. Jake, keep an eye on her,” she said, staring at him. He flinched. Then she looked at Lydia. “Absolutely no calls to the clinic, Doctor’s orders.”

Lydia smiled and raised her hand as if taking an oath. “I promise.”

Jessie walked out. Again, Jake followed. Lydia sat up, straining to hear as their mingled soft whispers floated through the slightly ajar door.

Minutes later, Jake returned to her bedside. He whispered the same reassuring words. “Everything will work out, Lydia, I promise.” Briefly, his smile hid the fear masquerading as hope.

Without asking, Lydia would never know exactly how long he’d known. Certainly, she had a pretty good idea how he’d found out. While watching him frantically fade in and out of consciousness, she wanted to say don’t worry. On second thought, what good would come from interrupting the little bit of sleep he’d stolen? Her mouth opened wide into a yawn and then closed almost immediately. The beautiful soft glow of the moon cascaded through her window. She watched as it played peek-a-boo with a host of twinkling stars. Their breathtaking performances lifted her spirit then sat it high upon a cloud. While he slept, she prayed for sustainable faith to endure the long, painful journey ahead.

Disappointments spanned decades, but she never gave up hope. She believed that one day modern medicine working alongside an infinite God would produce a plethora of possibilities. New medical breakthroughs happened every day in labs all across the country. Tommy’s miracle drug became her new beacon.

Jake stirred as she gently stroked his head. “Good morning, sleepy head.”

“Good morning, Lydia.”

A lack of rest left his muscular form less brawny. Jake looked ragged. His puffy red eyes, which once signaled a night of binge drinking with his boys, now sank deeper into their sockets.

“Go, get out of here. Grab some coffee. Jessie normally starts her rounds much later. Grab some breakfast, too. I’m still a little groggy.”

Jake kissed her. Reluctantly, he walked toward the door. “I won’t be long.”

That little white lie seemed like the right thing to do. It was painfully obvious that he couldn’t handle much more. Lydia watched him shuffle out the door. Then she leaned her head back, adjusted her pillow, and shut her eyes tightly.

“Good morning.”

Lydia recognized the voice. She opened her eyes. “Good morning, Jessie! Timely, as usual. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

“It’s all in what you get used to.”

They laughed.

“How did you sleep?” Jessie asked.

“Last night or a few minutes ago?”


“Last night fair. Much better a few minutes ago.”

“Where’s Jake?”

“Getting breakfast, he had a rough night.”

“And you haven’t?” Jessie asked.

Lydia’s silence froze time. When she spoke her shaky voice sounded like ice cycles crashing onto the pavement. Watching her wrench in pain, Jessie purposely steered the conversation away from her illness. “Anthony walked right pass me the other day like what we once shared meant nothing. The word’s out that he’s got a new woman in his life.”

“Do you miss him?”

“I suppose I miss a skill that extended beyond the operating room.” Then she laughed while fanning her hand in front of her face. Lydia laughed too. Seconds later, Jessie recoiled as a glint of sadness filled her eyes. She then walked over to the window and stared out across the hospital parking lot. “Poor Anthony, I’m sure you heard his wife left him shortly after our breakup.”

“I heard a rumor,” Lydia said, and that’s all it took.

Jessie didn’t need any coaxing. Her sharing produced a therapeutic high void of any vindictiveness.

“Lydia, sometimes I wish he’d understood the meaning of faithful. I realize now he enjoyed too much privilege to care. A few short months after our breakup, his wife caught him in their bed with the help.”

Much too late, Jessie had learned his wife overlooked his sexual improprieties with women of reputation too many times to count during their ten-year marriage. Usually, he received a slap on the wrist as punishment. That weak gesture didn’t deter his bad boy behavior. As it turned out, he continued to cheat. Finally, he went too far. When he cast his net in waters filled with shoals of what she deemed a socially unacceptable catch, she kicked him out on his butt. Rumors took flight.

While Lydia faced one of her greatest challenges, she felt grateful for Jessie’s presence, not just in her hospital room, but in her heart. Jake’s low threshold for the suffering of those he loved rendered him mentally distraught and sometimes physically ill. If possible, she wanted to spare him what she couldn’t escape. The air stilled. In the quietness, her mother’s spirit spoke comforting words to her heart. It’s out of your hands now, Lydia. Trust God to do what he does better than anyone. Who do you think kept you all these years? The words resonated so clearly, Lydia felt her presence.

No amount of stalling would change the facts. Since last night, Jessie had rehearsed this scene a dozen times. Briefly revisiting the past had simply postponed the inevitable. Her uncompromising words, like clumps of frozen water flying through the air, pelted Lydia with such force her body ached at each point of impact. Jessie leaned forward.

Gently, she repositioned a lock of hair dangling over Lydia’s glassy stare. Far removed from shock or fear, she knew. Now, Jessie knew, too.

“If you need me please ask the nurse to page me. I’m around here until midnight. I took over Dr. Clay’s shift since her daughter and sitter has the flu.” Then Jessie walked out.

Their colleague, Dr. Clay had flirted a few too many times. In the same year, she toiled through a nasty divorce and custody battle. Her husband’s inadequate defense couldn’t prove allegations of adultery. As a result, the promiscuous doctor had walked away unscathed.

Jake appeared in the doorway. “Looks like I missed Jessie.”

“Uh-huh. Babe, please sit down.” This time Lydia didn’t let him stop her. He took a deep breath and moved slowly over to her bedside. “Jake, I’m sorry. You deserved the truth. I’ve always had this need to take care of everyone else. I didn’t want to burden you. Yes, it’s true. I’ve lived with sickle cell anemia my entire life. I know it intimately, and it knows me. Normal red blood cells resemble round, soft doughnuts without holes. My sickle shaped hemoglobin makes traveling through the bloodstream much harder and painful. Until recently, my old medication worked. Of course, like everything else even old medicine needs improving.”

As Lydia detailed this worst-case scenario, his heart braced against every sharp prick. The secret he had kept seemed more real now. Suddenly, he felt an urge to shield her with his body as if from falling debris. Additionally, he wept. With her fingers, she traced the stream of water trickling down his cheeks. Silently, he uttered a prayer. Surely, his tiny semblance of faith counted for something, he thought.

His muscles grew tense. “Jake, honey, relax.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You wanted children. I knew the limitations.”

“Lydia, we can adopt.”

Then Jake wrapped her in the warmth of his body and smothered her with affection. Now looking ahead, she wondered how the news would affect her sisters. Mostly, she feared Jake would grow weary in a climate hosting more bad days than good.

She looked over at him and smiled. “Jake, don’t worry. God has a plan for my life. We’ve talked. He heard me.”

“I sure hope you’re right, Lydia. Anyway, I prayed, too.”

His bold confession shocked her. No way! Surely, this wasn’t the same man who eyed the clock impatiently the moment he took his seat on Sunday mornings? Then she looked at him. “Jake, He hears and answers every prayer. A few days ago, I danced a melancholy waltz with death. Look at me now. Although I certainly can’t boogie yet, I don’t doubt it will happen. Hopefully, Jessie will release me in a day or two.”

“That’s good news, Lydia. Get some rest. I’m going home to shower, if that’s okay. I’ll be back soon.”

“Of course.”

Lydia couldn’t shut the flood gates fast enough. Memories rushed in like rising flood waters. This attack thrust her entire medical history out into the open like books on display in a public library. She knew Jake dreamed of a home filled with children. In many ways, he reminded her of her father. Her sisters fantasized that Jake like their father and Uncle Roy had a hand in hanging the moon. With all that praise pumping him up, he confused her goals with those of her sisters. Unlike them, she never expressed a desire to become a mother. Adoption scared her. Why? After all, she and her sisters turned out fairly well. Maybe, her fear had nothing to do with adoption. Perhaps, the hurtful knowledge that their parents unknowingly passed on a debilitating disease delivered one final powerful blow which left her grappling with the unshakeable truth of her destiny.

She hoped Jessie would release her soon. Minute by minute her hospital room grew increasingly more confining. Her restless body contorted in sweeping discontentment while her mind searched for escape in the shadows of all those old memories. Jessie’s intriguing lifestyle dominated Lydia’s thoughts. At the point of suffocation, it was as if the walls took a deep breath and then exhaled. She relaxed, but the memories continued. In such a short timeframe, she and Jessie shared a lifetime of memories. Dr. Anthony St. Johns, the man in Jessie’s life, inherited his sculptured good looks from his French and African-American ancestors. Proudly, the renowned doctor skillfully molded Jessie’s career. He believed his protégé could never surpass him. That lie fed his narcissism. Gradually, his possessiveness eroded their romance. As a result, their inseparable teacher-student relationship crumbled, too. Jessie never considered those teachable moments under his tutelage a total debacle, and rightly so. After all, the world revered this gifted doctor. Sometimes though, he scared her. The evil in his eyes matched the evil in his heart. He took pleasure in destroying careers. She feared someday, he’d snatch away her life’s work, too. Therefore, she sank alongside him in the gutter like a grungy sewer rat.

© 2017 by Bertha Connally Abraham