A feeling came over me—the same mix of disbelief and panic I’d once felt when I spotted my uncle at a bar I frequented as an underage drinker. “Excuse me?” Brother Jasper cleared his throat. “There’s a problem with your friend Hubert. He needs you.” “Hubert? Is he hurt?” A thousand injury possibilities raced through my mind, most of them cooking related. Fire, second-degree burns, smoke inhalation… “He’s not hurt physically.” He spoke slowly, considering his words. “But he’s had quite a shock, and he’s not doing well.” “A shock?” “I’d rather not say any more right now. He can give you the details himself.” Brother Jasper gave the rest of my group an apologetic glance. “Nothing against you folks. I just wouldn’t want to violate the boy’s privacy. But Lola really is needed at home.” Across the table Chad looked as confused as if Brother Jasper had proclaimed that the survival of the planet depended on me and me alone. “This is Brother Jasper,”
