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over
her shoulder. “It’s the ones you least expect that can’t handle the sight of
blood.” To make her point, she stuck a syringe into the port taped to the top
of Mark’s hand, then turned to flash a smile at Ted.
    “Okay, I’m outta here.” Ted gave us a
wave and hurried out the door.
    “Father Ted! Don’t leave!” Mishala called
out as she capped off a vial. “Hold up‌—‌I wanna get a picture of
you ‘n me to show my kids!” She snapped off her latex gloves again and looked
up at us. “Y’all don’t touch anything. I’ll be right back.” With a giggle, she
dug in her pocket for her cell phone. “Father Ted? Wait up. Don’t you leave!”
    Chad couldn’t stop laughing.
    “I can still hear you!” Ted sang in
protest from the hallway.
    “ Chad , go out there and take the picture for
them. And apologize for laughing at him.”
    He was still guffawing as he headed out
the door.
    Chad convinced Ted to go for coffee with him while Mishala
finished taking blood. She showed me the pictures my brother had taken of her
and “Father Ted,” and I couldn’t help but smile at the green tint on my uncle’s
face.
    A few minutes later, Chad and Ted returned with a fresh cup of coffee for me. The
three of us had a nice visit. Before he left, Ted invited us to pray with him
as we gathered beside Mark’s bed. Most of the time he keeps us in stitches with
his quirky sense of humor. But he’s also a gifted man of God with a gentle demeanor
and compassionate heart. And just then, as he prayed a beautiful, heartfelt
prayer for Mark, it almost felt like he’d ushered us into the presence of God. When
he prayed for me, asking God to wrap His arms around me and fill me with His
presence, I sensed the most comforting warmth of peace wash over me.
    Afterward, he and Chad both said goodnight.
    As I settled in for the night, I could
tell that Uncle Ted’s prayer had changed me. At least I felt changed. More at
peace. More hopeful. As I reached for Mark’s thumb through the bedrail, I felt
a tear track down my cheek. But for the first time, I knew it was a tear of
gratitude for what God was going to do through all this. I had no idea how He was going to do it. I just knew.

Chapter
5
     
    I channel-surfed for a while, hoping to
find a good movie to get lost in, but quickly clicked off the remote when the
ten o’clock news flashed a picture of the creep who had taken Mark hostage. I
didn’t want to know anything about him. I needed to focus all my emotional
energy on Mark‌—‌not on the anger or outrage I felt every time I
saw that man’s face or heard an update about what might have led him to
do it.
    I needed a distraction. Quick.
    I reached for the diary, pressing my nose
against its cover again. “Oh, Aunt Lucille, talk to me. Help me get my mind in
a better place. Tell me your story.”
    I pulled the satin ribbon, opening to the
page where I last read. Glancing at Mark, I reminded him of where we’d left
off.
    “Lucille was about to get off the El at
her stop, Gary said it was his stop too, which, of
course, she didn’t believe, and . . . okay, here’s where we pick
up.”
     
    “I’d be happy to walk you
home, if you’d find that agreeable,” he said as we stepped off the train. “I
realize that may seem rather forward of me ‍—‍ ”
    “A little, yes.” I couldn’t
take my eyes off his smile. I tried to tell myself this was all wrong, much too
fast, and utterly ridiculous, but it wasn’t helping.
    “I assure you, my
intentions are completely honorable.”
    “Oh? I bet you say that to
all the girls.”
    When his face crimsoned, I
wondered if I’d pegged him correctly. Was he just using some tried and trusted litany
of pick-up lines?
    “Look, Lucille,” he said,
taking my elbow and moving us out of the path of other commuters. “I like you.
I admit it. And it makes me . . . well, it saddens me to think I
might not ever see you again.”
    Was he reading my mind?
Was I that