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  “Remarkably recovered, but you’re right. Something’s off. I can’t put my finger on it.” Annaliese turned to the window and followed Kalea’s stare. “Well, maybe I can. I asked Dad if I could see his neurological scans from when he was discharged, and he said no.”

  Kalea stared at Annaliese. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. He said he’s fine, and he doesn’t want anybody prodding him anymore. He said he’s had enough of that.”

  Kalea turned her stare back outside. “He had nurses and doctors coming and going all the time the past few weeks. I imagine he wants peace and quiet.”

  Annaliese shook her head. “He never refused to give me access to his medical files before. This is strange. It seems he’d want me to look at them to confirm everything’s all right.”

  “He’s scheduled for a follow-up on Monday, isn’t he?” Kalea asked.

  “He is, but he doesn’t want to go. What worries me is that Mom is fine with it. She said he’s had enough, and if he doesn’t want to see any more doctors, that’s his right.”

  “It’s his right, but is it wise?”

  “My point exactly,” Annaliese said. “Nobody knows what happened. The doctors need to keep an eye on him to figure out what’s happening. We need to make sure he’s allright. We need to make sure––“

  “That it isn’t coming undone,” Kalea interrupted.

  Annaliese paused. “Yes, that it isn’t coming undone.” She picked the wine bottle up from the counter and refilled her glass. “Do you want another glass?”

  “No thanks,” Kalea said. “Do you have any idea how he could have gone from stage seven dementia to completely cured in seconds?”

  “Not without nanotech and that doesn’t work beyond stage two of cancer and stage four of dementia,” Annaliese tapped her fingernail on her glass. “I’m glad he’s better. He’s alive for the first time in years, and I couldn’t be more grateful. It’s just that what happened to him is medically impossible.”

  Kalea looked at Annaliese. “You don’t believe it’s a miracle like everybody says it is?”

  Annaliese sighed. “I’m not counting it out, but I’m not counting it in, either. My gut is telling me something more is going on.” She stared out the window. “There have been other cases.”

  “I know. I saw an article before I came over. There are five cases of sudden recovery from stage seven dementia and sixteen cases of it from stage four cancers in the past two weeks.” Kalea paused. “It started around the time this happened with Uncle Carson.” She stared at Annaliese, tilting her head. “Is that why you came? To figure out what’s happening?”

  Annaliese returned the stare. “I came because my father recovered from his deathbed, and I wanted to see him. But yes, I wonder if it fits in with these other cases.”

  “It’s been striking me as odd ever since he grabbed my foot and sat up from his deathbed.”

  “I know,” Annaliese reached over and patted Kalea on the hand. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I know everybody is saying it’s wonderful that you witnessed a miracle, but I know that was a shock for you. Nobody realizes how traumatic it is to have something like that happen.”

  Kalea forced a smile. “Thank you. You’re the first person to realize how startling that was. I wish it had been anybody but me.” She looked away. “I have nightmares about it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not that I wish he died. I’m glad he didn’t. It was just so unnatural. “

  Annaliese lowered her head, trying to force Kalea to meet her stare. “I’m here if you need to talk.”

  Kalea looked up. “I know, and I appreciate it.” She stood up and stretched. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should take some time off over Labor Day weekend. The summer has flown by with work, Uncle Carson being sick, and the broken foot. Maybe I can go up to Mom and Dad’s mountain cabin. It would be good for me to get away.”

  “What’s that?” a voice said from the kitchen door. They turned to see Uncle Carson standing in the doorway, looking puzzled.

  Annaliese stood to meet him, taking his arm. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

  “I heard voices,” he said.

  “Kalea and I were talking.”

  “Okay,” he stared at Kalea. “A storm’s coming.”

  “I know,” Kalea said. “It looks like a bad one. Do you want me to get the generator?”

  “Generator?” he asked.

  “It’s all right,” Annaliese stood and guided him toward the den. “Come on, Dad, you’re missing your party. Let’s go back in here with your friends.”

  Thunder clapped. The lights flickered, and then went out. Kalea hit a button on her phone to activate the flashlight. “I’ll go in the basement to flip the fuse box and fire up the generator.”

  “Dad, go back in the den with Mom. I’ll help her,” Annaliese followed Kalea down the staircase to the basement. She was amazed at how fast Kalea got down there, but then again she did have a head start. Kalea flipped open the fuse box and touched the main switch. A blue spark touched her finger, causing her to yelp. Annaliese rushed to Kalea’s side.

  “Are you all right?” Annaliese asked.

  Kalea stared around, her brown eyes wide with shock. “What happened?”

  “You got shocked flipping the switch. I don’t know how that happened.”

  Kalea stood up and walked back to the fuse box, flipping the switch off and then back on again. A hum filled the room as the power flowed back through the house.

  “Hmm,” Kalea studied the box for a moment, and then closed the door to the fuse box. “I guess it needed a reset.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right? That shock should have knocked you out!” Annaliese said.

  Kalea waved it off. “I’m fine. I work with electricity all the time and have been shocked worse than that. Come on, we need to get back to the party.” They mounted the stairs and returned to the den, where the party was back in full swing. Aunt Tabitha hugged Kalea.

  “Thanks for hooking up the generator, sweetheart. I’m amazed you got it done so fast!”

  Kalea stared at Aunt Tabitha. “It was just a blown fuse. I rebooted it. The power’s back on.”

  Aunt Tabitha laughed. “That’s impossible,” she said, pointing to the screen over the fireplace showing the newscast where a red warning ran across the bottom of the screen. “They say the power is out in the entire city and will be for the rest of the night.”

  Annaliese stared at the red warning scrolling across the screen. “How is that possible?”

  Kalea looked up, first at Annaliese, and then at Uncle Carson, who stared at her in confusion. “I don’t know.”

   Chapter 5

  “Welcome back!” Jenna Monroe, the short, perky receptionist chirped as Annaliese walked in the door. “How was your trip?”

  “It was good to see the family again. That trip was long overdue,” she flipped through the mail in her inbox.

  “How’s your father?”

  Annaliese stopped and stared at the receptionist, who was staring at her intently with wide eyes. “He’s fine,” she rubbed her head. “They were right. He recovered. He gets confused every now and then, but I believe that’s normal for somebody in his situation.”

  “To the brink and back, eh?”

  Annaliese stared at Jenna, who flushed red and looked away. “I’m sorry. That was a ridiculous thing to say.”

  Annaliese dropped her mail, which was advertisements and fliers for upcoming conferences, in the trash can. “No, it wasn’t. It’s strange. I’m glad he’s all right, but there’s something about the whole thing that seems off.”

  “You aren’t the only one that feels that way,” Jenna tapped at her computer. “You got a ton of messages while you were out.”

  Annaliese raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t see any when I checked my messages from home.”

  “They weren’t your clients. They were other people, and they all came through my desk.” She tapped a key.
“I just forwarded them to you.” She nodded to a young woman sitting in the reception area, beyond the closed glass partition. “That lady is also here to see you. Her name is Sidney Sinclair. She drove up from Raleigh to speak with you. I hope you don’t mind that I told her to come in. You don’t have any routine appointments until ten o’clock, and she said she’s in town for a conference that starts at noon.”

  Annaliese studied the woman sitting on the couch. Straight, chin length brown hair framed her oval face. She was fidgeting with a gold cross necklace and staring out the large window in the reception area with wide, green eyes. “Has she filled out the preliminary paperwork?”

  “It’s in the system.”

  “Give me a minute to get settled in. I’ll call when I’m ready for her.”

  “Right, boss,” Jenna said as Annaliese walked to her office in the back corner of the building.

  “What are these messages about?” Annaliese mumbled as she put her computer in her desk workstation and booted it up. She opened the vertical blinds to her back wall, which was a window overlooking the downtown D.C. area. Sunlight flooded across her desk as the messages popped up. Annaliese scrolled through them, studying the summary statements from other doctors she knew through her professional association asking about her findings with her father and cousin on her trip. She doubted they were asking from any concern, and her experiences hadn’t shed any light on the recent “resurrections and miracle healings,” as the media called them. More likely, they just wanted gossip. She snorted. “Nosy Nellies,” she mumbled, disconnecting the computer from the workstation and activating her notepad app in Sidney’s file. She called Jenna and asked that Sidney be sent back. Jenna escorted the nervous woman in a moment later. Annaliese rolled her chair in front of the couch across from the window. “Mrs. Sinclair, my name is Annaliese Kerner Boyce. How can I help you this morning?” She realized as soon as she said it that she didn’t read Sidney’s preliminary file.

  Sidney shook Annaliese’s hand weakly and took a seat on the couch, huddling in the corner. “Thanks for seeing me on short notice. I know you were out of town last week and hated to crash in on you like this. I thought you would be the best person to help me.”

  “I appreciate that. I know there are many fine doctors in Raleigh, so what brings you to D.C.?”

  Sidney fiddled with the necklace again. “It was the media reports regarding your father and cousin. My situation is unique.”

  “Who’s your doctor back home?”

  “Olivia Werner.”

  Annaliese nodded. “I went to school with her.” She leaned back in her chair. “You said your situation is unique. How so?”

  Sidney looked in her lap. “I’m one of those miracle cases that they’re referring to. My father-in-law was dying of cancer three weeks ago. It’s like your cousin’s situation. The nurse called the family outside and I stayed in the room with him.” She rubbed her neck. “I had an asthma attack while I was sitting by his bed. I was reaching in my purse for my rescue inhaler when he sat up and grabbed my neck.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I screamed and tried to pull it away, but he grabbed it tighter. You can see a scar where he grabbed me,” she held up her head to show Annaliese red scars on her neck. Annaliese leaned forward and studied the half-moon nail streaks in her neck that were nearly identical to the scars on Kalea’s foot.

  “Have the scars been there since he grabbed you?”

  “No, that’s the strange thing. They showed up a week later. My doctor looked at it, but said it was cosmetic and it would fade.”

  “Have you had any asthma attacks since this incident?”

  “No,” Sidney said. “I’d had it my whole life until he grabbed me. I quit taking my regular medication a few days later.” She paused, looking out of the window. “I know nanotech could cure it, but my husband and I couldn’t afford it.”

  Annaliese nodded. “Just like Kalea. Her foot completely healed.”

  Sidney scrunched her eyebrows. “I saw the interview. It’s the same thing that happened to me.”

  Annaliese shook her head. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Let’s get back on topic. What brings you here?”

  “Two things. The first is that I wanted to warn you. My father-in-law is dying, again. His cancer came back. He’s stage three.” She swiped a tear from her eye. “I don’t know if you’ve been keeping up with the news reports, but that started happening with the cancer ‘miracles’ a week after they came back. The tumors grew back. Most of them are at stage three already.”

  Annaliese paled. “I didn’t keep up with the news reports while I was out. I’ll check into it.”

  “They say he doesn’t qualify for nanotech because it’s considered a relapse of the original condition, so they can’t do it. There’s nothing that can be done for my father-in-law. He’s terminal, and I don’t know if there’s enough miracle to go around twice. I wanted you to know. I told your assistant, but she said she felt I needed to tell you this myself.”

  Annaliese tapped notes in her computer. “What was the other thing that brought you here?”

  “It’s about me,” she pointed to Annaliese’s left foot. “Does your foot hurt when you get up in the morning, and when you get up after sitting for a while?”

  Annaliese thought. “Actually, it does. How do you know?”

  “You have plantar fascia. I can see the tear in your ligament. You might want to get out of those high-heeled shoes before you make it worse.”

  Annaliese stared at Sidney. “You can see the tear inside of my foot?”

  Sidney nodded. “Your receptionist is getting an ear infection, too. I told her to call her doctor. I hope she does.”

  Annaliese gaped. “You can see inside our bodies and know something is wrong?”

  Sidney nodded.

  “How is that possible?”

  Sidney shrugged. “I don’t know. It started last week. I’m a medical technician, so I work with a lot of sick people, files, and scans. Now I don’t need the machines. I can see the bones and muscles and tendons and ligaments. It’s like I’m a walking scanning machine. I see inside you and what’s right––or wrong.” She rubbed her eyes. “Am I going crazy, Dr. Boyce?”

  Annaliese leaned back in the chair, thinking.

  About her father’s sudden confusion.

  About Kalea restoring the electricity in an entire house by touching the fuse.

  About the scars.

  About the messages.

  She sighed. “No, Sidney, you aren’t crazy. I think we’re dealing with something new.”

  Sidney leaned forward. “What is it?”

  Annaliese leaned back. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter 6

  Kalea sat in a chair on the stage of the high school auditorium, surveying the area with Darren Henson, the school principal a stern, graying man with a perpetual scowl.

  “It needs something more,” he grumped.

  Kalea took a deep breath, reminding herself that the school district brought several million dollars to the company every year, so telling him to jump in the lake would be detrimental not only to her career, but her financial well-being as well. Plus, she was here for an interview with a major magazine about the project. This would eventually get national coverage, and anything that took the focus off her bloody hospital dash was a good thing.

  “You have the most state of the art theater in the region. Relax, they’ll love it. They wouldn’t be coming if they weren’t impressed.” Kalea swiped her brow and shifted in her stuffy gray and pink pantsuit. She wasn’t used to dressing formally, and it was still too hot for this in mid-September.

  “I wish they would have come this spring when we had a production, and when we’ve had more time to tweak it.”

  “Mr. Henson, I can’t tweak it anymore. I’ve given you all the power that the grid can give you. It passed inspection. It’s fine.” She paused. “They might come back to cover that spring pr
oduction if this goes well.”

  He grunted and checked his smartwatch as the first students trickled into the auditorium. Since there wasn’t a production ready to showcase the renovated theater, they arranged to have the interview filmed onstage with the student body as the audience. Kalea was nervous about that aspect of it. She was used to speaking to small groups, and even on camera regarding larger projects, but the concept of questions from strangers that knew little or nothing about the finer points of engineering made her stomach flip. This wasn’t stuff you could “dummy down” to an audience. When it comes to technical engineering concepts, you get it or you don’t. No amount of explaining changes it.

  Mr. Henson glanced at Kalea. “You’ll do fine.”

  Kalea smiled weakly. “Is it that obvious that I’m nervous?”

  “Yes, but it’s all right. You get used to this.” He cracked a rare smile. “Besides, you’ve done a nationally broadcast interview. This should be a piece of cake.”

  Kalea grunted away the cliché as the volume of murmuring voices grew with more students filling in the auditorium. She fanned herself with her computer, which held a memo with her talking points and notes. “Maybe I should get our mechanical engineer to see about adjusting the HVAC system in here. These lights get hot.”

  “I already asked. He said he’s done all he can,” Mr. Henson said. “We’ll have to sweat it out.”

  “I’m getting used to that,” Kalea mumbled as the magazine interviewer, a tall, thin woman with short, dark hair and striking blue eyes, breezed on the stage. Kalea and Mr. Henson shook her hand.

  “Kalea, so glad to meet you!” she bubbled, shaking Kalea’s hand so vigorously that Kalea’s black cameo earrings swung. “I’m Anna Eddings. It’s a pleasure to meet you and cover what other miracles you’re capable of in Modern Design Magazine!”

  Kalea blushed. “I’m glad for the coverage, both for the firm and for the school.” She gestured to Mr. Henson. “This is Darren Hensen, the school principal.

  Anna shook Mr. Hensen’s hand and they took their seats. “Thanks for letting me record the interview with the equipment in here. I understand this is the first time cameras on wires have been used in an indoor facility that wasn’t specialized for sporting events.”