“That’s good.” Was it because Josh was running that he couldn’t quite see the people lining the streets? Or was he—

“He’s only twenty-two, poor kid. And you know what? People think he’s an addict, because he’s really thin. The pharmacists won’t fill his pain meds because they think he’s a junkie, and even though his doctor called—” She glanced at him. “Are you okay?”

Nope. No, he wasn’t. “I . . . uh . . . I think I need a breather.”

And then his knees buckled, and the pavement was gritty against his cheek. Pebbles licked his ear with great vigor.

The woman’s face appeared suddenly, her dark ponytail touching the ground. “Yikes,” she said. “Should I call 911?”

“I think . . . I fainted.”

A medic on a bicycle was there almost instantly. “Stay where you are, sir,” he ordered, kneeling next to him and taking his pulse. “Another one down,” he said into the radio on his collar. “Told you we’d have at least a dozen.” He looked down at Josh. “Sir? What day is it?”

“Saturday. I didn’t eat this morning,” Josh said. “I’m fine. I’m dehydrated.” He tried to get up.

The guy pushed him back down. “Stay here. I need to assess you. You people make my job hard. A 5K in this weather isn’t for everyone.”

Faint-shaming. Not cool. “Sorry.” Then again, Josh and his ilk also kept the guy employed, so maybe the EMT should be a little more gracious.

“Do you know where you are, sir?” People ran past, gawking, telling him to hang in there.

“Yes. I’m in Providence, Rhode Island, home of the fourth-largest self-supporting marble dome in the world, doing a run to raise awareness for rare diseases. Can I at least sit on the sidewalk?”

The medic and Duffy’s owner helped him to his feet, and one of the spectators quickly offered him a chair. He sat, and the medic took his blood pressure. “Ninety over fifty, sir. You are definitely dehydrated. And running on an empty stomach? That’s just dumb.”

“Thanks. I know. Sorry.” It was embarrassing to be the subject of so much attention. He petted Pebbles’s head, and she licked him some more.

“Do you want me to wait with you?” Duffy’s owner asked.

“No.” God no. “You keep at it. Thank you.”

“No worries! Sorry to leave you. It’s just that my brother’s waiting for me at the finish line.”

“Have fun,” he said, and she was gone. Good stride, nice muscles in her legs. People were pretty decent, if you gave them a chance. He needed to remember that more.