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together during the Vietnam War. There was a band of them that had reunited and watched out for each other ever since three of them had gotten sick—too sick to care for themselves.
    In the beginning they believed it was mere coincidence that they shared the same debilitating symptoms. Only recently had they learned that their military unit had been exposed to some kind of toxic chemicals. Frankie didn’t show any of the symptoms, but he had taken on the crusade. That’s why he was headed to D.C. to testify before a congressional hearing.
    Now loaded down with the grocery bags, he waited for several residents to pass, then motioned for Hannah to go ahead of him, always the gentleman. She patted the side of her leg for Grace to follow.
    “Actually, I was hoping I’d catch you here,” Frankie said, “so I could talk to you about him.”
    “About Gus?”
    “No, Jason.”
    She nodded, not wanting to say anything more there in the hallway.
    “Let me put a few things in the refrigerator.”
    Once inside the kitchen she showed him where to place the bags. She started unpacking them while she checked to make certain no one else was around.
    “Jason moved out of Segway House about a month ago,” she told him.
    Frankie raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. Hannah wasn’t surprised that Jason had not told his grandfather. Like so many returning wounded, he wouldn’t have wanted to be a burden on his family.
    Segway House was a halfway home for soldiers who had nowhere else to go after returning from Iraq or Afghanistan. Over the last several years it had morphed into a temporary haven for other lost souls—drug addicts, runaway teenagers, and abused women.
    In addition to the housing facility, they also provided mentoring, education programs, and a handful of other services. Hannah was one of the founders and Frankie had been one of the early volunteers.
    But Hannah wondered why Jason had not told his grandfather about his new job. That should have been good news to share.
    “Is he okay?” Frankie asked.
    “He’s working for Ryder and me.”
    “No kidding?”
    “He moved into one of the trailers we have on the property.”
    That should have been a relief to Frankie, but Hannah noticed his brow was still furrowed with worry.
    “He’s living out there all by himself?”
    “He’s hardly by himself.” But now she understood. At Segway House, Jason had been surrounded by other veterans he’d been able to talk to and get support from. “He’s got Rye and me, the other handlers. We even have a veterinarian out there in our clinic two days a week. Not to mention a kennel full of dogs.”
    He nodded but offered only a flicker of a smile.
    “He didn’t tell Gus,” Frankie said.
    Hannah heard his concern and tried to ignore the hint of accusation.
    “He likes what he’s doing. Seems to be on the right track,” she said, tamping down her growing irritation.
    “That what he told you?”
    She caught something in his eyes, and now she understood why Jason hadn’t told his grandfather. There was a thin line that separated concern and pity. The boy had lost half his arm. It didn’t mean he had to lose half his life.
    “What exactly is it that has Gus so worried?”
    Frankie shrugged and glanced around the kitchen. The tough war veteran, the warrior who had taken on his fellow soldiers’ crusade, suddenly looked uncomfortable and at a loss for words.
    “I think Gus is worried that Jason might . . . you know.”
    He hesitated, as though she might help him out and finish the sentence, but instead Hannah stood in front of him with her hands on her hips, getting more impatient.
    “I obviously don’t know,” she said. Grace was sitting at Frankie’s feet again and staring at Hannah.
    “Gus is worried the kid might try to off himself.”

7.
    Haywood County, North Carolina
    C reed breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the yellow hard hats of rescue workers and at least one Caterpillar excavator. A