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personal attachments to every student at the Center.
    “What
happened?  Who was it?” asked Rob.
    “It
was Seth,” she replied. “We don’t know for sure what happened, but he fell sick
last night at home and was rushed to the St. Mary’s County hospital, and died
shortly afterwards. His parents said he had some kind of seizure, and that it
wouldn’t stop. It was the first time he had ever had one. The doctors called it status epilepticus .”
    Rob
hesitated for a moment, his thoughts turning to Katie and her work.
    “Marge,
my wife received news last night of a large group of elderly people that died.
I don’t know if it was because of seizures, and it could be a coincidence. But
if there is a connection... I don’t think it is good to speculate, I think we
should watch the children closely. At the first sign of any health issues, we
need to call an ambulance.”
    They
had experienced children dying at the Center before, albeit not very often, and
Marge was a little shocked by Rob’s news.
    “How
about I do a little research and contact some of our graduates to see how they
are doing. If this is a wider problem, then they could be at risk,” she said,
taking a deep breath.
    “Good
idea. Maybe I am overreacting, but be prepared for some bad news.”
    “I
sure will. Oh, by the way, the Tri-County Council of Churches meeting is this
afternoon. Are you planning on briefing them on our expansion?”
    “Yes.
I am putting the finishing touches on my presentation. I have a call into Mr.
Walters to see if he has time to meet with me this morning. I want to see if he
is willing to make up the difference if we put in the infrastructure for full
expansion.”
    Rob
checked his email and messages and saw that Mr. Walters had scheduled a meeting
for 10 a.m. As he headed out to meet him, Rob thought that he had nothing to
lose: the worst that could happen is that he could give him some good advice,
but no money. The best would be advice and money.
    When
Rob arrived, Mr. Walters was still in his sweat gear, having just finished his
morning walk along the water of his 3,000 acre property. He was a self-made man
and had built a flourishing farm hardware supply business from nothing. He sold
the business for millions of dollars when he was in his 70’s and, along with
his many other investments, it made him one of the richest men in Calvert
County. He had just turned 88 years old and was still in great shape. When
asked how old he wanted to be, he would always say that he expected to live to
110 years of age. And his doctors agreed.
    Mr.
Walters had always been a generous donor to regional charities. He had more
money than he needed and wanted to help the communities that had made him
welcome and had helped him make his fortune. He had been particularly generous
with Rob since they had something in common. Mr. Walters’ great grandson had
been born with Down Syndrome too, like Hope, and he was now attending classes
at the Independent Living Center run by Rob.
    “Hi
Rob, how are you doing today?” asked Will, whose full name was Beauregard
Wilbur Walters.
    “Actually
it has been a tough day,” Rob replied. “One of our students died last night. It
seems he had a seizure. The more I reflect on it, the more I think there might
be something going around. My wife works at CDC, as you know, and she is doing
some research on it today. There have been a number of people in the group she
monitors that are over 100 years old that have died in the last several days
too. I doubt if this is related, but you never know.” 
    “Well,
if there is something going around, let’s hope it doesn’t affect too many
people. I remember stories from my parents of the flu epidemic around 1919 and
they said it was horrifying. Anyway, what can I do for you today?”
    “I
am here for your advice and any financial support you can provide the Center,”
said Rob, getting straight to the point. He explained the expansion plans, and
the idea of