2:04 p.m. Passion Ministry

He sprinted to the courtyard, a wave of dread gushing through him.

Jimmy. Collapsed in a heap. Dog sniffing at his head.

John scooped him up. Jimmy’s eyes fluttered. Barely conscious. John flew down the corridor, oblivious to everything but his son’s dark eyelashes.

John was unaware of the strain on his arms until he lay Jimmy on his bed. Gratefully, he relaxed and watched his long-time friend, Andrew Somerville, take over. Andrew had been with John since the beginning and Jimmy’s doctor since birth. John trusted no one else with his son’s life.

Andrew calmly placed the nebulizer mask on Jimmy. Caressed his forehead. Then gave the boy an injection.

Though nearing sixty, Andrew retained a commanding presence and a topnotch scientific reputation. His career was storied: a full scholarship to Harvard Medical School, astonishing discoveries in molecular biology, a Nobel Prize. A large man with eccentric tastes in clothes. He habitually wore the same colors, often purchased duplicate shirts and ties, and sported a hockey jersey instead of a lab coat.

Throughout Jimmy’s life, Andrew had consistently assured John that the boy would survive and possibly outgrow the asthma. His words were wasted as each attack petrified John. “He’s going to be okay. Right, Andy?”

Two figures blocked the doorway. Maggie rushed in. Slumped against John’s shoulder. Guarding the door, Oscar held and stroked Darby.

“Get that dog out of here!” Andrew snapped. “I’ve warned you about having him—” Andrew rose. Shooed Oscar and the terrier out of the room. “Maggie, would you please get John some nourishment?”

Maggie nodded and left.