William emerged from the lower deck as the gang plank was lowered, trunk balanced on his shoulder. He moved with the other enslaved passengers being…
Just one more night in slave territory. One more night before the final crossing. Ellen moved toward the ticket office, weaving through the crowd. Behind…
We’re going to send a telegram to Georgia and verify your story. If it checks out, you’ll be on your way. If it doesn’t, he…

My name is Pastor David Coleman. I’m 42 years old and on November 2nd, 2020, I should have died in a public square in Riyad,…
As I stood before his bench, flanked by armed guards, I could see in his expression that my fate had already been decided. This wasn’t…
Fear of the growing crowds gathering at the miracle site. Fear of the international attention and the videos circulating worldwide showing God’s supernatural protection. The…
Somewhere ahead, separated by walls and social barriers more rigid than iron, Ellen was sitting among the very people who would see them both destroyed…
Ellen lifted the pen, holding it awkwardly in her left hand, and brought it toward the paper. Her hand trembled, not from the performance now,…
Baltimore was the worst of all the checkpoints, the last slave port before Pennsylvania, the place where authorities were most vigilant, most suspicious, most thorough…
“Come in,” she said, ushering them inside and closing the door firmly. “Quickly, now inside,” she led them to a back room, speaking in low,…


