Mary pressed the back of her hand to her son’s forehead. Even before she made contact, she could feel the heat of the fever that still wracked Lester’s tiny frame. Tousling his hair, she begged God that she be able to keep this one.

Lester’s eyes opened and he coughed weakly.

“Don’t worry, baby. Mama’s going to make everything all right.” Mary kept the worry and the strain out of her voice, focusing on how much she loved him.

Unfortunately the persistence of the sickness meant that she had no choice—he needed medicine and that meant a doctor. Doctors required a great deal of money. Events were forcing her back down a path, one that had delivered nothing but money and misery.

Lester began to shake, his teeth chattering, eyes dull.

Holding back her tears, she gathered Lester into her arms. She would do whatever she needed to do without flinching and without complaint. Love would give her strength.

“Everything will be all right.” She sniffed. Resolutely, she set off to find the one man she could trust.