Evie was speechless. Could the cure to the plague really be that easy? Were all the herbs and pills and pastes that they had tried to concoct been nothing but a waste of time?
"Do you believe me now?" Michael asked.
Although she still had a lot of questions about how this medicine worked, she was able to ascertain that it did cure the effects of the plague.
And just as she was about to say something, someone burst into the room with a very worried expression on his face.
"Miss Evie! Please help my son!"
A bearded, middle-aged man with a tan kneeled into the ground as he pleaded for Evie. "My son's condition is worsening. Nothing is working!"
In his hands were a tiny boy, barely seven years old. Everywhere around his body were swollen lymph nodes, as if there were tiny stones embedded underneath his skin.
It looked painful. The boy's face was a permanent frown.
