Tori studied his foot. There were no open wounds, but it bent inward slightly, and the skin hung on it as if no muscle remained. “What happened?”
“I was in an old, abandoned building ’bout a year ago. The NWU had targeted it for demolition, but I didn’t know.” He closed his eyes for a moment as if the memory were painful. “The thing came down on me so fast, I barely made it out. But my foot didn’t. Broke my bones, don’t know how many. Been like that ever since.”
“I’m sorry.”
Thomas moaned. “Why not get medical attention?”
Tori cast him a seething glance. “Christians are denied medical treatment. We are enemies of the State.”
Before she saw his reaction, she faced Aaron again.
“I prayed and prayed for healing,” he said. “But I just assumed the good Lord had other plans.”
Tori smiled. “Maybe for you to meet us.” Then laying her hand on his foot, she said, “Be healed in Jesus’ name.”
Thomas snorted. Moments passed. She didn’t feel the normal surge of power pass through her hand, but then again, God didn’t always work the same way each time.
“Now, Aaron, move your foot,” she said.
He met her gaze, his eyes hopeful. Glancing down, he stretched out his leg and slowly moved his foot. It straightened from its bent position, ankle turning, toes pointing forward. The skin turned pink and plump as bone melded together and muscles grew.
Aaron gasped. So did Thomas, who took a step closer to look.
“Praise the Lord!” Brianna exclaimed.
Even Sara uttered a “Glory to God.”
Tears streamed down Aaron’s face as he gripped Tori’s shoulders. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“No, thank Jesus, not me.” She stood and held out a hand to assist him.
He rose, tentative at first, but then began hopping and dancing for several minutes, thanking them all—thankingthembut not God. Strange.
Regardless, Tori shouted her praise to Jesus. Brianna and little Carla joined in, singing a worship song Tori had taught them. Sara lifted one hand toward heaven, but could do no more, Thomas remained standing, arms crossed over his chest, a look of shock on his face.
The atmosphere in the room changed…from one of sorrow to joy, from despair to hope. The darkness Tori had felt earlier retreated beneath the all-powerful presence of God. The Bible said God inhabited the praises of His people. Why didn’t she praise Him like this more often? What joy there was in His presence! She could worship Him all night, but they were hungry and tired. Finally, Aaron ceased his dancing and sat back down to stir the soup, and she knelt beside him as he dished out the broth into plastic cups he’d collected.
“It isn’t much, just some rice, beef broth, and a few carrots I found in what was left of someone’s backyard garden, but everyone will get some,” he said.
“Thank you, Aaron. We appreciate it.” Then rising, she offered a prayer of thanks for the food and began handing out cups.
Carla giggled as Tori handed her one. “Onafiel was dancing.”
“He was?” Tori exchanged a smile with Brianna. “He must have loved our praise.”
She nodded, slurping down the broth.
After giving Brianna a cup, Tori filled two for Thomas and Sara and headed over to help her eat. Her fingers were too shaky to hold anything for long, but she needed to regain her strength if they were to make any progress in their journey.
“I’m not hungry.” Sara pushed the cup away as Tori handed one to Thomas.
“But youwilleat,” he said. “I know you don’t feel like it, but trust me. It helps.”
Tori smiled. After yelling at him earlier in the day, she’d watched him closely. The old Thomas wouldn’t have taken well to being insulted so harshly by a woman. Maybe the loss of everything dear to him was beginning to change his heart. He’d been nothing but kind and supportive to Sara, even though Tori knew he was suffering himself.
“He’s right. Sara. Eat.” She tipped the cup up to the girl’s lips and made sure she swallowed some.
“How did you…how did you fix that man’s foot?” Thomas asked.
