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Authors: Karen Kingsbury

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BOOK: A Brush of Wings
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But Sami knew Mary Catherine would be completely willing. “What if I ask Mary Catherine about you living here until you have the baby. First with me until I get married and move in with Tyler in December. And then with her, after she gets back.” The idea took root at a different level. It made sense in so many ways.

“You think Mary Catherine would let me?” Lexy looked shocked.

“I do.” As long as Mary Catherine didn’t decide to live in Uganda. Sami’s mind raced. “You’d be safe from Ramon . . . and the baby would be safe. And after that . . . we could see what doors God opens.”

It took only a minute for Lexy to start crying in earnest. Not the fearful, desperate sobs from earlier that night at the Youth Center. But the tears of someone who maybe—for the first time in her life—could see a way out.

“So this . . . this is where Mary Catherine lived? Here with you?” Lexy looked around, seeming suddenly aware of her surroundings in a different way.

“It is.” Sami knew for sure that Mary Catherine would agree with this decision. “She’d be so glad you were here.” Sami smiled. “If you move in, she might come back sooner.”

“Really?” Lexy squinted at Sami, as if she didn’t dare believe this was even happening. “You’d do this? Let me live here?”

Sami’s mind raced. There were still many details to think through. “There’d be rules. You’d have to stay with me—when I go to the Youth Center, you’d have to go, too. And when school starts”—Sami thought for a moment—“you’d have to take online classes. So you can keep working toward your high school diploma.”

“I’d do that.” Lexy looked worried again. “At the Youth Center . . . what if Ramon finds out?”

“We’ll be careful. I have a feeling he’ll move on.” She waited for Lexy’s reaction. “Would that be okay?”

“Yes.” She nodded, looking more like a twelve-year-old. “I never want to see him again.”

Sami could only hope the guy would be arrested before the end of the week. That way he’d be nowhere near Lexy.

Long after Lexy had gone to bed in Mary Catherine’s room, Sami stayed up praying about the situation. What had she gotten herself into? She called Tyler and he agreed that on the surface the idea was crazy.

“But you saved a life tonight, Sami.” He was clearly proud of her. “And you know Mary Catherine will be all for it. If she gets home in time.”

“I thought about that.” Sami paced her living room, her cell phone pressed to her ear. “Like, what happens to Lexy if Mary Catherine stays another year?”

There was a long pause on the other end. “Sami.” Tyler’s voice held a smile. “You know the answer. She’ll stay with us.”

Sami stopped cold. “Really? You’d do that?”

“Yes.” Tyler chuckled. “Life isn’t about us or our comfort. It’s about rolling up your sleeves and getting dirty. As long as it means showing Jesus to another person.”

They talked about other options, too. Coach Wayne and his family might be open to having Lexy at some point. Sami felt better after talking to Tyler. People helped each other. That’s what Jesus called them to do. If in faith she took Lexy in, then somehow—by the grace of God—it would work out.

Sami was convinced.

JAG WAS READY
to take drastic measures. They had no choice. He and Beck had found their way into Dr. Cohen’s office twice already. One time they left the brochure for the LVAD on his desk, and the next visit near his computer. Both times Dr. Cohen came into his office, saw the brochure, and set it aside. He made no connection whatsoever to Mary Catherine.

Beck had done more research. Mary Catherine seemed to be a perfect candidate for an LVAD device. So why hadn’t her doctor considered it? He must not have known how sick she’d gotten in Africa. The device was known as a bridge to transport, a way of buying time. They had to help Dr. Cohen understand just how little time was left.

Today they were ready to take things to another level. Angels didn’t always take action first. Often they liked to incite it, create an opportunity for humans to get the work done. Sometimes, though, they had to use desperate means.

Like tonight.

Beck was dressed as a security guard, Jag a doctor. Beck kept watch near the front door while Jag moved through the doors to Dr. Cohen’s office. The office was armed with security cameras. Jag wasn’t terribly worried if he was caught on camera.

If someone checked the security footage they’d simply see a blur of very bright light. Nothing more. Even so, Jag worked quickly. He looked for Mary Catherine’s last email, the one where she admitted her failing health. But it wasn’t there.

This could explain why Mary Catherine hadn’t heard back from her doctor. Jag made a note to talk to Ember about the email later. Still he had work to do here. He found an earlier email from Mary Catherine.

Then he hit reply.

Dear Mary Catherine,
It’s been six months since I last saw you, and in that time I haven’t heard from you at all. I hope this means you are feeling well and not exerting yourself too much.
I wanted to discuss an idea with you. Depending on how you’re feeling, whether your symptoms are worsening or not, you may be a perfect candidate for a left ventricular assist device (LVAD). The LVAD is basically a mechanical heart. It can buy you time—years in some cases—while you wait for a heart transplant.
I want to run tests and do a full work-up on your condition. Depending on your symptoms and the results of your tests, I’d like to get you prepped and ready for this operation right away. I think this could save your life, Mary Catherine, so my orders are for you to come to the office as soon as possible. Please take this very seriously.
Sincerely,
Dr. Gerald Cohen

Jag read the letter one more time. He hit send and was logging off the computer when someone flipped on the lights in the next room. It was Dr. Cohen’s nurse, Sally Hudson. Jag straightened, mustering his best official-business expression.

The woman entered the office and screamed. “What . . . who are you?”

Help me, Father . . .
Jag slid his hands in his pockets and smiled, cool and collected. Then he held out his hand. “I’m Dr. Jay Agate. Medical intern from USC.”

The woman narrowed her blue eyes, doubtful. But after a few seconds in Jag’s presence an unearthly peace seemed to wash over her. Jag watched her relax and eventually she shook his hand. “Dr. Cohen . . . he didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

“I needed to submit some paperwork.” He nodded to her and started to leave. But before he got to the door, he turned around. The Lord was giving him words. “Sally, God sees the good you do. The way you love Him and your family.” Jag smiled. “Keep up the good work.”

Sally Hudson’s mouth hung open. She blinked back tears and started to talk. But by then Jag was gone. He left the office and then stepped into the hall, where he disappeared. He found Beck out front and the two of them hurried off.

A warm feeling spread through Jag as they made their way. Angels were God’s army. They could protect and rescue, yes. But sometimes they offered words of hope and encouragement, messages from God.

He loved those times. The look on Sally Hudson’s face was something he would treasure long after this mission was over.

Now if only they could get Mary Catherine home. Heaven’s angel armies had joined forces to pray for her to book the flight back to LA, and Jag was grateful. They needed all the help they could get.

Otherwise all of mankind would lose.

17

T
HE FEVER WOKE MARY CATHERINE
up an hour before daybreak and she knew immediately what was happening. She’d waited too long. Her entire body ached and she couldn’t stop shivering. Her breaths were fast, too fast. Short and raspy. And the pressure was worse than before. Like someone was sitting on her chest.

And only then, in that desperate moment, did she remember something from yesterday. A truth Mary Catherine had denied until then.

She wanted to live.

The difference was something Ember had said. They’d had the conversation just yesterday during recess. Ember sat next to her on the edge of the playground. “Mary Catherine, if a person jumps off a bridge, that isn’t God’s plan. Right?”

“Of course not.” Mary Catherine hadn’t been sure what Ember was leading up to.

“Okay.” Ember leveled her gaze straight at her. “If you don’t try to get help, how is your situation any different?”

Accepting death was one thing. If an early death was God’s will, then so be it. But giving up too soon couldn’t possibly be God’s will. If God would let her live, then she wanted to live.

Desperately.

She felt delirious, too hot to move or think or act. But suddenly she was overcome by an intense desire to get home.
God, what have I done? I’m so sorry. I should’ve gone home sooner. Help me, please.
She used all her energy to roll onto her side.

As she did, she spotted her laptop.
Sami. God, this is all my fault. Why didn’t I tell her the truth?
Her laptop might as well have been an ocean away. But somehow Mary Catherine found a way out of her bed and across the hut to her computer. She sank to the dirt floor and glanced at Ember.

Her friend was still asleep.

Mary Catherine’s teeth chattered, and she wondered if her fever might be even higher now than ten minutes ago.
Help me, Father . . . I made a mistake. Please . . .

She opened her laptop, and before she could find Sami’s email, she saw one from her doctor. She opened it and scanned through it. Something about a mechanical heart, a device that could save her life.
Too late,
she thought.
God, I need a miracle. I can’t get home like this
. She closed the email and found the last one from Sami.

Mary Catherine hit reply and started writing.

Dear Sami,
I should’ve sent this letter much sooner. Please . . . forgive me.

A wave of nausea crashed through her. Every keystroke, every movement was an effort. The ground rocked, shifted. Dizziness engulfed her. If only she could make it through this email. She doubled her focus and kept typing.

I’m very sick. I found out right before Uganda that I don’t need a new valve. I need a heart. My doctor said I might not have long to live if a donor isn’t found. I know you’re probably frustrated by this. I should’ve told you. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here at all.
But you know me, Sami. I have to live life. I didn’t want to sit in my apartment too sick to walk to the beach just to wait for death. I couldn’t do it.

The sound of her chattering teeth grew louder. Why was she so cold? Like ice was running through her veins. Mary Catherine could hardly keep her eyes open.
Come on, Mary Catherine, you can do this. God, help me.
She positioned her hands on the keyboard and forced herself to move.

The thing is, I don’t want to die. I want to fight this thing so I can live. I want to see you get married and I want to tell Marcus how much I miss him. My doctor said he can give me a mechanical heart, but I have to find a way home. Only I don’t think I can, I feel so sick. Can you help me, Sami?

She was losing consciousness, falling over onto the floor, and there was nothing more she could do. Nothing she could say.
I’m so sorry, God . . . I waited too long. I don’t think You meant for it to end this way.
She pictured heaven and how wonderful it would feel. This was the end, then. It had to be.

She closed her eyes and let it come.

BOOK: A Brush of Wings
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ads

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