Soon before Graham was to enter Georgetown, their father buried himself beneath yet another financial avalanche—this one an absolute crusher that left the man virtually penniless and without hope of recovery. Unwilling to deprive his second son of a college education, Dennis had turned to Lou, who was already generating a salary as a resident. Dennis assumed, without blinking, that Lou could and would help him out. After all, he contended, he had been there as much as he could when it was Lou’s college and med school tuition at stake. Surely Graham, the stronger student of the two, deserved nothing less.

In the beginning, Lou managed, and Graham excelled. Then marriage and Emily forced Lou to add more moonlighting shifts until sleep became a major problem. Enter the friendly, neighborhood amphetamine dealer, and still more hours of work. It was something like the so-called death spiral that figure skating pairs performed—the woman stretched out almost completely supine, being spun faster and faster by her partner, and closer and closer to the unyielding surface of the ice.

By the time the world and the DEA came crashing in around Lou, Graham had his MBA and was excelling as a businessman, and the distance between the two brothers could be measured in light-years.

The first thing Lou did after a walk-through of his apartment, and a glance into his closets, was to check his email, thinking that he might have received something from Filstrup at the PWO. Nothing. Lou leaned back and stared at the ceiling, consumed by a heavy melancholy. He was disconnected from the thing in life outside of his family that meant the most to him—being able to help sick docs who, more often than not, had very few people, if anyone, on their side. Now, for the second time in his life, he was one of them.

Working through the stack of spam and email from clients who had chosen to ignore his status at the PWO further darkened Lou’s mood. In fact, the only thought that appealed in the least was flopping facedown on his pillow and lying there until sleep brought him some relief. It was then he realized that there was another unread email lost in the remaining spam—this one marked URGENT. The subject line read: Regarding Events in Kings Ridge.

Lou’s mouth went dry.

Dr. Lou Welcome:

For reasons that cannot be revealed, I have become aware of your investigation into the peculiar behaviors exhibited by some residents of Kings Ridge, Virginia. Like yourself, I believe these odd incidents may be connected. Your help is required to prevent what may be a looming disaster.