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trem bled as she punched in her son’s new phone number and waited.
    When the phone began to ring, she did something else, the only thing that would ever bring about the miracle their son needed.
    She prayed.
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    L U K E S P E N T A N H 0 U R standing in front of the apartment window, but he didn’t see the lights of Indiana University. He saw a far different sight-the scene probably taking place across Bloomington at his parents’ house.
    If the thing that had been chasing him was his past, then maybe it was time to let it catch him.
    Kari and Ryan were getting married; that had to be it. And though Luke didn’t belong with the Baxters anymore, he was happy for Kari. Ryan had been Luke’s hero as far back as he could remember. Larger-than-life, high school football star, an athlete who’d earned a full-ride college scholarship and then a spot on the Dallas Cowboys. Ryan survived one of the worst injuries the National Football League had ever seen-all while keeping his faith.
    Yes, Ryan Taylor was the best guy Luke had ever known, and until September 11
    all he’d wanted was to be just like him. Okay, so he’d never play football in the NFL or even get beyond the intramural sports at IN. But still, he sort of looked like Ryan. Tall and strong, ready to bust up a room with a quick oneliner,
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    blessed with social graces, and devoted to his faith. There were lots of ways he was just like Ryan.
    Or at least he used to be.
    He worked the muscles in his jaw. Lori was out again; she’d been gone all day to some seminar on self-directed spirituality. She was on a high-protein kick lately-only red meat, eggs, and boneless chicken. Something about getting fuel from the lower evolutionary rungs. The girl had so many approaches to eating he couldn’t keep track of them.
    Homework helped him pass half the evening, but he’d fin ished his last bit of reading, and really, he should’ve gone to the party at his parents’ house. He couldn’t hide from them forever.
    Eventually they’d have to accept that he was different now. They’d have to stop grilling him about his faith and stop asking when he would change hack to the Luke Baxter they knew and loved. They could take him like he was or not at all.
    And if they couldn’t, well, what did that say about their supposed faith?
    Luke wiped at a spot on the window where his breath had left a circle of steam.
    Tomorrow he and Lori would attend a campus function for the Freethinkers Alliance. The group intrigued Luke more than the other clubs Lori dragged him to. Even with his new mind-set-the one that wasn’t theistic in nature-some of the clubs she belonged to were downright wacky. Anger Di version Art? One World Optimization? Luke shook his head. Voice of the Trees?
    No, he didn’t fit into much of Lori’s world. But the Freethinkers Alliance-or FTA-now that was a group that sparked Luke’s imagination. Tomorrow’s message was “Removing Bias Breaking Down the Walls to Freedom.” And later that month they’d spend a few weeks on the relativity of truth. Luke could hardly wait for that discussion, especially after a lifetime of think ing truth could be found only by walking through the doors of a church or living a life founded on some archaic book of letters.
    Luke raked his fingers through his hair and turned from the window. The apartment was meticulously clean. Lori was a 30
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    stickler for organization. Inanimate objects had a more powerful aura when they were put in their place. At least that was her the ory. She had a fit if he left his clothes on the floor, and after a few arguments about the negativity of sleeping next to a pile of day old clothes, he’d learned to hang them up.
    A clock ticked in the background, and Luke sighed. The party would be over by now and he couldn’t help but wonder. Had they missed him? talked about him?
    shared with each other how lost he was now that he wasn’t exactly like them? He sank his hands in the