Ted took his time composing a reply. “I admit I’m confused . . .” A subway train passed overhead, and for a long minute, the two men waited patiently for the noise to abate. Ted began again, “I admit I’m confused, but the decision is made. I don’t know whether I made it or had it handed to me, but I seem to keep forging along.”

“The battle against evil takes the righteous through many a dark path. Keep the faith and the light will find you.”

“That’s a comfort.”

“You’re not a religious man.”

“Some days I think my life would be a lot less complicated if I were.”

“To be afraid is to be human. To do what’s right despite your fear is divine.” The Preacher left Ted staring at the fence.

-54-

-54-

Lester was up when Ted returned, lounging on the low, broken sofas in the community room watching golf with two young men. To Ted’s eye, they could have been brothers. Both were dark-eyed, handsome men with black hair and near-identical mustaches. They were dressed in pressed khaki trousers and matching pistachio-colored polo shirts. They greeted him with brief nods.

“Glad you’re back. Say hello to our roommates, Khalil and Khalil. Gentlemen, this is Ted.” Lester waggled a finger at his own shirt. “They’re fans.”

Fans? Ted didn’t see the connection.

The two young Afghans flashed brilliant white smiles that disappeared in an instant. Ted nodded in reply.

“Khalil told me something interesting,” Lester said. “He’s halfway through a nursing degree in the city. Ask him about medically induced comas. And you might want to sit down first.”

Ted sat.

“I am sorry about your friend,” the young man said. He looked at Ted as he spoke, but his eyes immediately flashed back to the television screen, where a man wearing the same outfit of khakis and pistachio-colored polo shirt was setting up for a putt. “One moment.” They all watched in rapt silence as the golfer took aim and swung gently. The ball rolled into the hole. The adoring crowd clapped politely. The two fans on the couch shared a high five. Khalil’s eyes came back to Ted. “Is she responsive?”

“No,” Ted said. “Not that I could see. The nurse said she could hear, though.”

Khalil blinked once, swallowing this bit of information. “What I have explained to Mr. Lester is that the swelling could be quite serious. It restricts blood flow to the brain. There is a risk of permanent damage if the brain is starved of oxygen for too long. When did they induce her?”

“Induce” sounded like a way of making an invitation with an “or else” at the end. “Sometime last night. Early this morning? I’m not sure.”

“They will be monitoring her brain waves. Is she breathing on her own?”

“She’s wearing a mask. It sounds like it’s pumping air.”