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affiliate where she worked, had frowned on her hair from the beginning, giving her two options: cut it or wear it up. “Makes you look too young,” he'd grumbled. “Don't make me work to justify having you on the air, Evans.”
    Faith had seen other anchors with hair similar to hers— halfway to their waists—but the issue wasn't worth arguing about. Besides, she was under enough scrutiny already.
    She made her way back to the soundstage, but before taking her place she saw one of the associate producers. “It's Wednesday… are we running the special?”
    The man stopped what he was doing and stared at her, unblinking. “Special?”
    “Wednesdays Child.
Remember?” Faith held her breath. This segment was especially important. He had to include it in the lineup.
    She'd started the
Wednesday's Child
program six months ear-lier and used her own time to put together the two-minute seg-ments. Each one highlighted a special-needs child who was up for adoption through the state's social services department. So far more than half the children featured had been adopted, and more than once her boss had said the program was a success. But without her constant reminders, the station executives tended to forget the segment altogether.
    “So what're we talking?” A tired look crossed the man's face. “One minute, two?”
    Faith kept her frustration in check. “Two.”
    He checked his chart. “Okay, immediately after sports.”
    “Thanks.” Faith felt the familiar surge of hope. There were reasons for her attachment to the state's homeless children. Reasons that went far beyond good citizenship or Christian char-acter. Faith headed back across the soundstage and eased herself onto the stool opposite the one where Ron Leonard already sat studying his notes.
Okay, Lord, these next thirty minutes are for You…
help me make You proud.
“You ready?” She smiled the question at her coanchor.
    Ron was fifteen years older and his position anchoring for the Philadelphia station had clearly been a demotion for him. Generally his mood reflected that truth and tonight was no exception. Rather than answer, he bunched his eyebrows together and looked hard at his watch.” When the producer says 10:45, he means 10:45. Not 10:47.”
    Faith swallowed. “Thank you, Ron. I'll try to keep that in mind.” Her voice held not a trace of sarcasm. She respected Ron and knew he was right. Every minute counted. “I had to check on the
Wednesday's Child
segment.”
    Ron's shoulders dropped several inches.” It's not on the schedule.”
    “I guess we should write it in. Two minutes, right after sports.”
    A heavy sigh escaped through Ron's clenched teeth. “We're a news station, not a church.”
    Faith ignored his comment and studied her notes. In many ways she was marked by her beliefs and the fact that she was Bob Moses’ daughter. It was why she'd agreed to use her middle name at work. Faith Evans. Bob Moses was well known locally and byusing Faith's middle name, her boss hoped viewers wouldn't identify her as religious or one-sided.
    It was something he had worried about since the day he hired her.
    Before that first newscast Dick pulled her aside and gave her a warning she remembered to this day: “The viewers may not know who you are, but I do. Bob Moses is a visible person with extreme religious views.” He'd tapped his pencil on his desk. “I like your work, Evans, but the executives expect me to keep my anchors in line. This station is not a pulpit for you to preach your doctrine, do you hear me?”
    Faith had been shocked by his warning. After four years at Penn State and five years working her way up the ladder as a sports reporter, Faith had still believed there was fairness in reporting. But in the two years since taking the position as night-time news anchor, there were many times when she'd seen other-wise. Too often stories that favored a conservative, Christian worldview were cut or changed or balanced with opposing