Her hands out, as if to ward off any further disturbing revelations, Hannah had sunk into the couch seat, the implications of this development working through her features. “He’ll be okay? If he’s like her?”
“If he’s like her, then yes.” Rollie smiled thinly.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, her chin trembling. “He’s been keeping this from me?”
“Kristian doesn’t know yet. I’ve sedated him until he’s strong enough to process it,” Rollie said, scratched his balding scalp. “Then Cora will tell him herself.”
“I’m . . . at a loss.”
“He was only seventeen months old when Ulrich brought him to us. He couldn’t understand then. And, as the years passed, it grew harder. Ulrich insisted we keep up the pretense, so that Kristian wouldn’t be tempted to experiment on himself.” Rollie rubbed the dark circles under his eyes. “And we were a family. He was—is—my son. I didn’t want to lose that.”
“Well, now we might have all lost him,” she snapped. “I’m disgusted that you allowed Ulrich to kidnap—steal—him from his mother. You’re complicit in that crime.”
Rollie stared at his hands, gripping the knees of his pants so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. “It was wrong,” he mumbled.
Hannah’s eyes widened. “Shit. If Cora is Kristian’s mother, then Milo has a quarter of her genes.”
Rollie nodded.
Lily’s empty stomach twisted.
Visibly stunned, Hannah tipped her head back and pressed her hand to her abdomen.
“If Kristian is like her, will he have to stay on the island?” she asked, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I won’t be able to see him.”
Rollie’s shoulders curled inward. “In a biosafety suit, you could.”
“What?” She jumped to her feet. “The only way to be with my husband again is in a suit?”
Lily bit down on her thumb. That desperate scenario had wrenched her heart, despite her anger toward Kristian. Hannah didn’t deserve that.
“We don’t know yet how his body will react,” Rollie said flatly.
“Milo,” she said, swaying, “he’s so close to his father. They’ve been spending so much time together in Kristian’s lab. If he’s like them, he could see his dad, right? But then he’d become an asymptomatic carrier? I won’t be able to touch him, either?”
“All of this will take time to sort out.” Rollie stepped toward her, offering his arm to steady herself.
She waved him off. “How exactly did this happen?” she asked, looking at Finn expectantly, as if he were more likely to tell the truth.
Finn clasped and unclasped his hands, and Lily could almost see the weight of his guilt in his slouched posture. The temptation for him to lie must be strong, she knew, and that neither she nor Rollie would counter his story if he decided to bend the truth.
“We got in a fight,” Finn said, shifting to the edge of the recliner. “It started with fists, but Kristian picked up a syringe, so I grabbed a scalpel to defend myself, and—”
“You cut him?” Hannah asked, her mouth hanging open. “You did this to him?” She lurched toward him, her fists balled.
“I’m sorry,” Finn said, his long, folded legs visibly shaking.
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it. What were you fighting over?”
He glanced at a framed picture of Kristian and his family at the beach, then at Rollie, who subtly shook his head no. Earlier, Finn had stressed to Lily that Hannah should be told the full truth. Yet now Lily guessed that he was thinking of Milo, currently in a swimming pool and blissfully ignorant of the worst parts of this debacle.
Lily thought of her own childhood, and all the nights she’d lain awake, crying into her pillow, wishing she had a father who loved her. They have no right to take that from Milo.
Lily stepped into the room. “I was there.”
“You?” Hannah stared at her incredulously.
“He was upset with Finn for getting involved with Cora.” What does this lie matter, Lily thought, given that I’m breaking up with him tonight?
“Kristian was worried about Finn being exposed to her germs,” she continued, “and him then passing them to me.”
Finn looked like he’d just been sliced open, yet he said nothing to dispute her story.
“He always has been so selfless, to a fault,” Hannah said in a sluggish tone, her burst of energy undoubtedly depleted. “What happens next?”
“We wait and see how Kristian’s immune system responds,” Rollie said. “If he has her same traits, and now cannot leave North Brother, we work like hell to eradicate the germs so he can return to you and your son.”
“And daughter.”
“What?” Lily exclaimed at the same time as Finn and Rollie.
Hannah placed her hand back on her stomach. “I’m pregnant. Twenty weeks.” Despite herself, she smiled.
A twinge of envy shot through Lily. “Congratulations,” she managed to say.
Then it hit her: This second child also wouldn’t be able to have direct contact with her father, if Kristian even survived. Unless the baby had inherited Cora’s unique immune system. In that scenario, if the girl contracted any of his viruses, then she would have to remain with him, away from her mother.
“That’s wonderful news,” Rollie said, his voice hoarse.
Hannah burst into fresh tears. “I need to get out of here.” She grabbed her jacket from the hall closet. “Please don’t tell Sylvia. That’s why I came tonight,” she said with a sob. “I still want to be the one, even though our baby won’t technically be her grandchild.”
Before anyone could respond, she exited, shutting the door behind her so hard its frame rattled.
Instead of Sylvia, Lily realized, Cora would be the grandmother. She pictured Cora, completely content, cradling the infant. For years Lily had been trying to stifle the longing for a baby. Cora must have experienced that same emotion—likely with a greater intensity given that Ulrich had ripped her existing child from her. That year and a half of raising Kristian must have been sheer bliss for Cora. Having access to her granddaughter—essentially a second chance to nurture and adore a child—would bring utter happiness to a woman
