“No!” Luke had screamed.

All these years later, Luke wore a black motorcycle jacket over a black hoodie and battered jeans. His brown hair was longer than Sebastian had ever seen it—as if he’d had a short haircut nine months ago and hadn’t bothered to trim it since. His five-o’clock shadow was so thick, it had turned into a short beard.

He looked like what he’d become: a man you wouldn’t want to cross. Dangerous.

Even so, Sebastian could see the boy he’d been in the long, aristocratic nose. The sharp, deep-set hazel eyes. The inflexible chin.

They were the same height, though Luke was leaner.

The summer they’d gone on that doomed mission trip, Luke had been the most well-liked, athletic kid in the eighth grade. He’d had every advantage Sebastian had not. A family, a home, upper middle-class money.

Luke’s life had been heading in an upward direction, and Sebastian’s life had been headed down. By the time they left that wrecked building after eight days buried alive together, their trains had jumped tracks. Sebastian’s track had gone up. Luke’s had gone down.

Luke should’ve been a doctor. Sebastian should’ve been a felon.

He couldn’t call Luke a friend, and yet he was more bonded to this man than he was to any of his colleagues or acquaintances.

“How long have you been back?” Sebastian asked.

“A day.”

“Why’d you return?”

“None of your business.”

“I’d like to know.”

Luke regarded Sebastian with impatience. “I have a job lined up in January.”

“What job?”

“A job with an animal rescue charity.”

An animal charity? Sebastian had expected him to say he was going to be working on restoring cars, something he’d been good at once. “Ben, Natasha, Genevieve, and I are meeting for dinner tonight. We’d like for you to join us.”

“No thanks.” He moved to pass.

Sebastian stepped in front of him. “It’s just dinner.” He knew how much it would mean to Natasha and Genevieve, in particular, if Luke would show.

“No.” Luke climbed into his truck and drove off without another word.

After their rescue, when the four of them had repeatedly tried to include him in the things they were doing—traveling to speak to churches, interviews with the media, conversations with the writers who’d handled the book and the screenplay—Luke had refused involvement. Ever since, he’d been stubborn and uncommunicative.

Luke was a pain. And yet there was no way of getting around one fact. Sebastian owed Luke for saving his life.

I’m so bummed that Luke’s not willing to get together with us,” Genevieve said that evening.

Sebastian, Ben, Natasha, and Genevieve were sitting around the table at Natasha’s house, open containers of Thai food standing between their plates. Pad Thai noodles. Rice. Curry shrimp. Beef and basil.