“That’s ridiculous!”
“Is it? From what I’ve seen of your family’s obsession, the only thing that’ll keep you from losing sight of her humanity is love.” She stepped out from the doorway, and a sharp wind whipped her hair across her face.
He wanted to dismiss her claim, but what valid counterargument was there? His dad had been a genuinely good man, and yet he’d caved to the temptation of a cure at any cost. Sylvia had been able to keep Rollie in check for only so long, and Finn wouldn’t have that support even initially if Lily broke up with him, which she should do.
“Let’s go,” Lily said. “Your parents are waiting.”
Finn wanted to draw her to him for a final kiss but stopped himself.
She must have sensed his hesitation; she turned on her heel and left the shelter of the awning, her figure only briefly illuminated by the lights on the next storefront.
Rollie opened the apartment door.
He looks ten years older. Suddenly overwhelmed by their situation, Finn didn’t greet him.
“C’mon in,” Rollie said, his voice equally aged.
Finn moved so Lily could enter first and shrugged off his jacket.
The spacious living room looked immaculate, only possible through Rollie’s recent absence.
“Where’s Mom?”
“Asleep in the bedroom.”
“How’s she handling it?” Finn asked, nervous that Sylvia blamed him, despite Rollie’s reassurances to the contrary.
“Not well.” Rollie studied his age-spotted hands. “Hannah should be here soon. Milo’s at swim practice, thankfully.”
“Shoot,” Lily said, smacking her forehead. “We forgot soda. I’ll grab a liter from the deli.”
That morning she’d offered to engineer a way for Finn to talk to his father alone. In response, he’d invited her to be part of their conversation. “Finn,” she’d replied, “I don’t want to.” His throat constricting, he’d nodded, relieved yet saddened that she was distancing herself.
Closing the door behind her, Finn turned to his dad, who’d moved to the windows facing the East River.
“How’s Kristian?”
“The same. No symptoms yet.”
Finn released his breath. “When they do start, you’ll call the CDC, right?”
“If it becomes clear that Cora’s antibodies aren’t helping him, then yes, I will.” Rollie rubbed his chest. “Maybe I should’ve involved them long ago. I’m so ashamed of myself. You’ve shown me this mantle is too much for one family to shoulder.”
The knot in Finn’s stomach loosened. If his brother did recover under the CDC’s care, and they assumed authority over Cora’s case, maybe his family could find some form of normalcy. And he and Lily could stay together.
Alternatively, if Kristian died, how would any of them ever move forward?
“Finn, there’s something I need to tell you,” Rollie said, running his hand down his pants leg.
Weary of any more bad news, Finn clutched his arms to his chest. “What?”
Rollie lowered himself to the couch and indicated that Finn should sit in the recliner across from him.
“There’s a reason I’m hopeful that Kristian will remain symptom-free, even though that didn’t occur with Ulrich’s test subjects who received her blood.”
Finn felt his own blood chilling. “Go on.”
“There’s no easy way to say this,” Rollie said, fidgeting with a coaster on the end table. “Kristian is Cora’s son.”
“How could you?!” Finn roared and stood up.
“No, no, no.” Rollie put his hand up. “He’s not my son.”
“Then whose?”
“Urich’s,” Rollie said in a bitter tone.
Speechless, Finn dropped back to the recliner.
Numb from the shock, he listened to Rollie explain Ulrich’s theory, ensuing experiment, and its incomplete conclusions.
“So, he might be like her, and we never knew it,” Rollie said. “Or he might begin showing symptoms any time now.”
“That’s why you allowed the transfusion,” Finn murmured. “Does Kristian know?”
“Not yet.”
Finn recalled the message that he’d passed from his mother to Cora, as well as the inscription she’d picked for the watch. Now they made sense. As did Cora’s reaction.
The room felt crushingly small. The urge to run gripped his muscles.
A shocking realization hit Finn, forcing his spine ramrod straight. “He’s not my biological brother.”
Rollie’s hand drifted to the scar on his jaw. “He’s your uncle. You are my only son.”
Finn’s throat constricted. He looked at his dad anew. “But you always favored him.”
“Not true. I had to keep a closer eye on him, given how much time Ulrich spent with him. They did so much together, like baseball games and Cub Scout camping trips, that I always marveled at the fact that neither he nor anyone outside our family figured it out.”
“Why’d you keep it from him?”
“We were certain that if he found out, he’d test his limits. Now, this week, I find myself worrying about that once again.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? All this time.”
Finn knew the answer. No child could be expected not to divulge such a destructive truth during an argument with a cocky, older brother.
“I’m sorry. I love you so much,” Rollie said. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a good enough father to you.”
Although he had been fully attentive and supportive when home, the man had so often been absent. And while Rollie’s sky-high expectations for Finn had been flattering, each time Finn had fallen short, it had hurt that much more. An apology now couldn’t undo the past. Finn thought of Lily and her relationship with her dad. He wished she were beside him now. So effortlessly, she’d coolly rebuffed Leonard’s request for forgiveness.
Conversely, looking at his frail, defeated father, Finn felt sympathy. And because Finn believed himself to be a good Christian, an obligation to forgive him. Yet he did also feel anger.
“Given Kristian’s predicament, we obviously can’t mothball this project. It’s embarrassing to have to ask this, but I need you to keep me from crossing that line again,” Rollie said, looking toward the bedroom.
Finn twisted to see his mother on her scooter in the doorway. Her cheeks were wet with tears.
“See, sweetie, you didn’t fail,” Rollie said to her. “Look at him.”
“Not with him,” she slurred. “With
