Page 118 - The Last Gift

needed some time alone and excused herself to
go to bed. Rachel looked over at her own
pathetic Christmas tree. It was more of a shrub
than a tree. She had salvaged it from the discard
pile at the tree yard. It was so dry she didn’t dare
turn on the ugly old string of red lights for fear it
would catch fire. She wasn’t sure it would have
a single needle left on it by Christmas.

The few presents beneath it were wrapped in
newspaper, and all of their contents had been
given to her, or were purchased at a secondhand
store. She gently touched a branch on it, and it
was so brittle that it broke off into her hand. She
dropped to her knees and sobbed. After some
time, struggling to gain control of herself, she
wiped away her tears. She felt funny. She felt
almost as if she hated Jacob and his family. But

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