“Don’t lose hope. She breathes, Iulius. Her heart beats. She lives.”
“But what of her mind?” Alexander said from where he stood, annoyed that she was giving hope where there was none. “Is a person truly alive whose mind no longer functions?”
She looked down at Phoebe. “Leave me alone with her for a while.”
Iulius, eager for a miraculous cure, withdrew immediately. Alexander, who had seen what God could do, still clung to reason and doubted in supernatural intervention. “What are you going to do?”
“Speak with her.”
“She can’t understand you, Rapha, nor can you understand her. I’ve seen cases like this before when I was studying under Phlegon. Her mind is confused. She is beyond reach. She will decline physically and then die.”
“I think she understands a great deal, Alexander.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Look into her eyes.”
“I did.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Let me speak with her alone.”
Alexander looked toward the bed and then back at Hadassah. He wanted to ask her what she intended to do, what words she intended to utter.
“Go, please, Alexander.”
“I’ll be right outside the door.” He grasped her arm. “Whatever happens, I want the details later.”
As he left the room, a servant closed the doors behind him, shutting Hadassah alone in the room. She came closer to the bed.
“My lady . . .”
Phoebe heard the gentle voice above her and felt the slight dip in the wool-stuffed mattress as someone sat down on the bed beside her. The voice was husky and low, unfamiliar. “Do you know who I am?” it said, and she rolled her eyes toward the sound and tried to focus. All she could make out was a blue cloud of veils. “Don’t be afraid of me,” the woman said as she began to lift the concealing layers that hid her.
When Phoebe saw the scarred face, she felt a wave of pity and sadness. Then she looked into the young woman’s eyes. Oh, the dark, luminous eyes, so gentle, so calm. She knew them so well. Hadassah! But how could this be? She tried to speak, but the words came out garbled and unintelligible. She tried harder. Tears filled her eyes. She moved her left hand sluggishly.
Hadassah grasped it, pressing it against her heart. “You do know me,” she said and smiled down at her. “Oh, my lady, you are well.”
“Haa . . . daaa . . .”
Hadassah stroked Phoebe’s forehead, soothing her. “The Lord is good, my lady. I’ve been discouraged these past weeks, and now I see by you that his Word doesn’t go out and come back empty. You’ve opened your heart to him, haven’t you?” She felt Phoebe’s hand squeeze hers weakly. Hadassah kissed it, tears of joy pouring down her cheeks.
“Don’t lose hope, my lady. Remember that you rest in him, and he loves you. When you came to him, he poured out blessings upon you. He promises his continued blessing. I don’t know why this paralysis has come upon you, but I do know Jesus has not abandoned you. He will never abandon you, my lady. This may even be his way of drawing you closer to him. Seek his face. Listen to him. Remember who he is, our comforter, our strength, our counselor, our healer. Ask what his will is for your life. He hasn’t taken you home for a purpose. He will reveal that purpose to you. It may be that God has done this thing in order to give you a greater commission than one you might have assumed for yourself.”
Hadassah felt Phoebe’s fingers bear down weakly on hers. Hadassah put both of her hands around Phoebe’s as though in prayer. “I will pray that God reveals his love for you in ways that will give you new purpose.”
“Mar . . .” Tears rolled down Phoebe’s temples into her graying hair.
Hadassah’s eyes filled with tears. “I have never stopped praying for Marcus.” She leaned down and kissed Phoebe’s cheek. “I love you, my lady. Surrender to the Lord completely, and he will lead you.”
She rose from the bed and covered her face with the veils. She went to the doors and opened them. Iulius and Alexander were right outside the door, as well as several servants. Filled with excitement and joy, she laughed. “Come in, please.”
Iulius strode to the bed. He stood staring down at his mistress, and his shoulders drooped. “She’s no better,” he said flatly. “I thought. . . .”
“Look into her eyes, Iulius. Her mind isn’t confused. She understands you perfectly. She’s not lost to us, my friend. Take her hand.”
He did so and drew in his breath as Phoebe’s fingers weakly pressed his. He leaned down and looked into her eyes. She closed them and then opened them. “Oh, my lady . . . !”