you can find in that room he came out of. If we can find out what the poison is, maybe we can treat it.”
Casting a worried glance at Garner, Trey stepped over him to get to the exam room.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“Cat’s in here.”
“Make her tell you what she’s done.”
“I think she’s . . . it looks like she’s unconscious.”
“Stay with her,” Beth said. “Do you know CPR?”
A drumming sound drew Beth’s attention toward the window she and Trey had just broken. Five square panes stood at attention before the rising sun. At left, on the bottom, the shattered sixth pane gaped. The others were glaringly bright against the dark contrast of the interior, barely blue in the intensifying light. She squinted. There was nothing else to see from her position on the floor except the underside of the balcony and the roofline of an old building across the street.
She realized she had expected to see a person, a savior announcing that he was an EMT with epinephrine in the trunk of his car, and IVs and activated charcoal and heart monitors and anything else needed to reverse what she—no, what Cat Ransom had done. But there was no one. Only her, and death, and knowledge that she could apply to animals, not human beings in the throes of unknown poisons.
The head of the wolf rose before the pane of glass in the center of the row. His front paws struck it as he came up and repeated the thumping sound that had first caught Beth’s attention.
The sight of the beast filled her with peace. She was deeply comforted by the possibility that God had sent the wolf—an endangered species unwanted in his native habitat—to her for a specific purpose.
I will heal him. Beth felt certain the voice that wrapped itself around her was from God, inaudible to Trey or Garner or the doctor. It was not the wolf speaking, like a creature from a fairy tale, though the wild animal was probably closer to God than she was. I will heal him through you.
How? I can’t control this gift.
The answer was whispered into her heart with a voice so full of love that it could do no wounding. My mercy doesn’t exist because of who you are, but because of who I am.
Then why do you need me to do it?
She asked sincerely, without disrespect, and the moment the words passed through her mind she realized that the question was backward. Of course God could heal this dying man without her; God didn’t need her to accomplish his miracles. She was the one who needed him to do it through her. She needed his mercy, his redemption, his reversal of her sin and the consequence that had followed.
“You are about to show me mercy,” she whispered.
I am.
“You didn’t heal my father.” She was putting the puzzle together, not questioning the truth.
Not all death is death, child. I promised him long ago that I would heal this family. The promise is also for you.
She would hold on to that promise tightly.
“What should I do?” she said. Her restless hands finally alighted on her grandfather’s cold fingers. She took one of his hands in both of hers.
Believe me.
“I do.”
As she sat on her knees, Beth clutched her grandfather’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. His palm caught her tears while her forearms entwined his like a vine. His baby-soft skin smelled like fresh soil, like a garden about to sprout new life. Beth’s prayer over him was wordless and open. Hope yielded to trust, doubt converted to belief, fear gave way to anticipation. She clung to Garner’s hand and waited for God to do what he said he would do. She would not leave until he did.
She didn’t notice time. She didn’t notice whether she was comfortable or stiff, or hot or cold, or uttering her emotions aloud. She didn’t pay attention to the room or anything else in the world. Eventually, words from a psalm memorized long ago formed in her mind: Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me . . . Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Her grip on Garner’s arm had become damp. It was the tears, she thought, the intensity of her prayers. The sweat of begging. But when she opened her eyes she saw that