Rachael’s Return by Janet Rebhan

Rachael's Return

Rachael’s Return by Janet Rebhan
English | 2020 | General Fiction/Classics | ePUB | 3.1 MB

In present-day Los Angeles, Caroline Martin has everything but the thing her soul craves most: a daughter. When she undergoes what is supposed to be a routine hysterectomy, she unwittingly aborts the little girl she’s always longed for, leaving the unborn baby’s soul in limbo. Sharing a hospital room with Caroline is a pregnant woman who’s just been shot by her boyfriend. Her unborn child is barely hanging on—and the soul of Caroline’s hovering baby cannot resist the overwhelming urge to rebirth via this unclaimed fetus. In the aftermath of these events, two engaging heavenly guides, working together through sensitive humans, struggle to find an alternate way to help Caroline and her would-be daughter forge the link that was always meant to be between them—before the child’s brutal father makes good on his vow to steal the girl and disappear with her forever. By turns comic and tragic, Rachael’s Return explores the concept of soul mates, the afterlife, reincarnation, and relationships that never die, even as it offers readers a glimpse of the mysteries that exist within the ordinary and challenges assumptions about the true nature of reality.

When Nancy Kelley began her shift, she placed her personal belongings in her locker before checking in with the front desk. She hadn’t been able to keep her mind off the pregnant woman with the gunshot wound. The last time Nancy had checked on her, the woman’s condition had been stabilized, but they weren’t sure about her baby.

“How’s the pregnant woman?” she asked the nurse behind the counter.

“The gunshot wound? Maynard.” She looked down at a chart on her desk. “She’s still in ICU. Holding her own, I guess. Blood pressure’s still low. They gave her a transfusion. Lucky for her that bullet didn’t lodge in her spine. Baby’s not doing too well though. Heartbeat’s sporadic. GOK,” she said.

Nancy paused and looked at the nurse. “God only knows,” she translated. “Thank you,” she said. “I was just curious. I’m going to check in on her.”

Nancy walked toward ICU. She felt an unusual urge to pray for the woman and the baby. She hadn’t prayed on her hands and knees since she was a child, and she rarely attended church anymore, but she was almost always engaged in another form of prayer: her thoughts. In her mind, she seemed to give and receive information regularly. She wasn’t sure if she had some kind of gift, or if that’s just the way it was supposed to be with everyone if they only tuned in enough. She was ultrasensitive to the needs of others and could sense the unspoken. If she sensed someone needed help, even someone she had no way of contacting personally, someone maybe she had heard about on the news, she would think good thoughts and send them their way. This was her way of praying. And she believed it worked. Sometimes she felt compelled to speak directly to a person’s soul after they had died. She would send them peace and light and calm for their journey home.

When she entered the intensive care unit, she approached the nurse at the woman’s bedside. He stood reading her chart beside the window. The curtains were open, and the sun shone through on the pregnant woman’s face. Her chest rose and fell in small shallow breaths. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were closed.

“Is she conscious?” Nancy asked the nurse.

“Yes, just sleeping now,” he answered.

Nancy looked over at the baby monitor, then at the woman’s belly, and finally up at her bruised and swollen face. “She’s just a child,” she said. “Does anybody know who did this to her?”

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