Chapter 11 - ELI NEVER PROMISED A MIRACLERosalie asked Eli the question everyone else avoided.
“Did God heal me?”
They sat near the fountain.
Eli picked at a loose thread on his sleeve.
“I don’t know.”
“You always say that.”
“Because I don’t.”
“But I stood after you prayed.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
Eli looked at her.
“My dad didn’t get better after I prayed.”
Rosalie went quiet.
“Did you think he would?”
“Yes.”
“How long was he sick?”
“Fourteen months.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
Rosalie looked down.
“Were you mad?”
“Yes.”
“At God?”
“Yes.”
“Did you stop believing?”
“Kind of.”
“What changed?”
Eli shrugged.
“My mom.”
“What did she say?”
“That prayer isn’t a vending machine.”
Rosalie laughed.
“That sounds like a mom thing.”
“It was annoying.”
“What else?”
“She said maybe faith is trusting God enough to be honest when you’re angry.”
Rosalie considered.
“Are you still angry?”
“Sometimes.”
Dante listened from a distance.
He had not intended to eavesdrop.
He did anyway.
Rosalie asked:
“So you don’t think you healed me.”
“No.”
“You don’t think prayer healed me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What do you think?”
Eli thought for a long time.
“I think something happened.”
“Very scientific.”
“You sound like your dad.”
Rosalie groaned.
“Rude.”
Eli smiled.
Then said:
“Maybe the prayer helped you try.”
Rosalie looked at him.
“Maybe your body was ready.”
“What if it wasn’t?”
“Then you still tried.”
Rosalie’s eyes softened.
Dante turned away.
For years he had treated hope like a promise.
If doctors could not promise, he preferred certainty.
Even bad certainty.
Eli did not.
He could hope without claiming control.
May you like
That was new to Dante.
And increasingly uncomfortable.
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