Chapter Twenty-Two 6 page

Zoe glanced at Gianna’s watch as she punched in the numbers with trembling hands. It was nearly midnight in London, but her father picked up right away and sounded wide awake. She had to cup her hand around her ear to be able to hear him above the noise of the chopper.

“Daddy, it’s me.”

“Zoe?”

“Who else calls you Daddy?” Zoe broke down at the sound of his voice.

“Where are you?”

“On my way home, Daddy,” she said through her tears. “We were just rescued. U.S. forces picked us up ten minutes ago.”

“My God, honey.” Her father was crying now, too. “I tried to get you out, and then they told me they couldn’t help because of this blasted virus.” He stopped to clear his throat. “I kept trying, though, with my contacts.”

“I know, Daddy.”

“How did you—”

“This amazing woman, Gianna, she saved me.”

“Who?” Derrick asked.

“I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”

“Where are they taking you? I can have someone pick you up.”

“We’re going to the United States. To a hospital.”

“Oh, my God, you’re not…” Zoe heard the panic in his voice. “You don’t have the virus, do you?”

“No, Daddy. I think I’m the only one who doesn’t,” she said, and looked at Gianna. “Everyone else got it. I don’t understand. Maybe I’m immune, that’s why I need to go to the hospital. I could be the cure. I have to be the cure.”

“Could it be hereditary? Everyone around me is sick or dead, too,” Derrick said. “All people that I’ve interacted with.”

“Is it possible that we’re both immune? Have you been checked?”

“I haven’t had the time. I’ve been trying to find a way to get you out or come up with the ransom.” He paused. “For a while, I thought Edward’s vaccine might have something to do with it. You know, the one he gave you, too.”

Zoe remembered the inoculations her uncle had given them a month before she’d left for Colombia. He’d been acting as their family doctor all her life, and he routinely gave them whatever they might need for their frequent travels. “It was just a flu shot.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Derrick said. “But maybe he finally hit the jackpot after all those years of research. He once talked about trying to come up with some kind of superflu vaccine that would be effective against more kinds.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I did. He’s also fine, by the way, and said he’d look into it.”

“And?”

“Haven’t heard from him since, so I assumed it wasn’t a miracle vaccine after all.”

“Huh.” Zoe thought it was extremely odd that all three of them weren’t sick.

“Which hospital are they taking you to?”

“I don’t know, Daddy, but I’ll call you when I find out.” Gianna was motioning to Zoe that she wanted to make a call herself, and to speed it up. “I should hang up now. My rescuer needs to use the cell.”

“I love you, honey.”

“Love you too, Daddy.” Her voice choked with emotion. “I’ll see you soon.” She hung up and gave the phone back to Gianna. “How strange.”

Gianna was looking at her intently. “What vaccine did you get, Zoe?”

Zoe explained about the shots she’d received weeks before she left, and what her uncle did for a living.

“I hate to say this, Zoe,” Gianna said, “but it sounds fishy.”

“I know.”

“Who does your uncle work for?”

“He’s a physician/virologist at Cambridge. He also consults a lot with labs all over. Government ones, private. He travels a lot.”

Gianna called someone on her cell and informed them about their situation. Zoe heard her name mentioned. Then Gianna listened for a long while. “That’s right, sir.” A pause while the person on the other end said something. “No, I’m sick.” Another pause. “I need you to check a name,” Gianna said. “Edward Anderson-Howe, brother of Derrick.” Pause. “I’m taking her with me, sir. I have reasons to believe she’s either immune, but more likely has been injected against the H1N6.” Pause. “I’m not sure.” There was another long silence. This time, as Gianna listened, her eyes clouded with worry. “God damn it,” she said as she hung up. She bent over and ran her hands through her hair.

“Radio ahead to the plane,” Gianna yelled up to the pilots. “Let them know we’re going to Andrews Air Force Base, then by chopper to the USAMRIID facility at Fort Detrick, Maryland.”

Zoe smoothed Gianna’s back with her hand. She didn’t expect her to feel elated, but she could be the answer to saving Gianna’s life. “This is good news, right?” she asked. “I could be the key.”

“I sure hope so,” Gianna replied. “One of our best ops and a hell of an incredible woman is dying.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

USAMRIID

Fort Detrick, Maryland

7 p.m.

Montgomery Pierce left the BioLevel4 Patient Care Suite at the U.S. Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases and passed through the decontamination chambers, trading his Hazmat suit for a surgical mask and latex gloves.

He jogged to a nearby building where a colonel who owed him a favor had given him temporary office space and found Joanne Grant waiting with a carafe of coffee and a tray of sandwiches and fresh fruit. He’d had to pull a few of his considerable strings with the Department of Defense to secure beds for Domino and Fetch at the AMRIID Facility. The rest of the patients there were all senior-level officers and government officials who’d become infected with the virus.

“How is she?” Joanne asked as he pulled up a chair beside her at the small conference table and gratefully accepted the mug of coffee. Though they both wore masks all the time, they slid them down when taking meals alone together.

“No change. Do we have an ETA on Fetch?”

“Within seven hours.”

“Have you reached Allegro and Lynx?”

Joanne nodded. “Allegro’s en route from Frankfurt and should arrive here about the same time they do. Lynx was just landing at Andrews when I caught her. I told her only that the plan had changed and she was to come here.”

“Make sure the guard gate gets their names.”

“Already done. I gave them Hayley’s, too. She was rather insistent when I notified her. She’s driving from Baltimore and should arrive any minute. I told them to direct her here.”

Pierce fished out his cell phone and put on his reading glasses to find the number for his contact in British intelligence. He still hated having to wear the damned things in front of Joanne; they made him look ancient.

“Pierce,” he told the man on the other end. “We’ve identified a person of interest and he’s one of yours. Edward Anderson-Howe, a physician/virologist who teaches at Cambridge. Brother of Derrick Anderson-Howe.” He relayed the information Fetch had given him about the so-called “flu shot” that Edward had given his brother and niece and asked to be kept informed about what they got when they questioned the man. Then he called Reno and asked him to find out everything possible about Edward Anderson-Howe.

“One of ours is on the team testing Fetch’s theory,” he told Joanne when he finished the calls. “He’ll keep us apprised of their progress.”

“If it’s correct, I pray they’re able to isolate and reproduce the cure in time for Luka.” Joanne’s expression was grave. “She’s strong, but…” She choked, her green eyes filled with tears.

“I know, honey.” He took her hand. “Try to stay optimistic.” It was never easy to deal with the death of an ETF, though every mission was potentially deadly. He, Joanne, and David acted as pseudo parents to their operatives, and he knew Joanne was recalling, as he was, Luka growing up on the Colorado campus. She’d become one of the most successful, resourceful operatives in the organization’s history, and her loss would hit them all hard, both professionally and personally.

Hayley Ward parked her red Mustang next to the brick office structure and hurried inside. The fifty-mile drive from Baltimore to Fort Detrick had taken an excruciating hour, including the fifteen minutes for the Maryland State Patrol cop to write her a speeding ticket.

Joanne Grant must have heard the rapid cadence of her footfalls on the long hallway; she appeared in one of the doorways at the end long before Hayley reached it. Her red-rimmed eyes, stark above her white mask, made Hayley panic. Was she too late? She clutched Joanne’s arm to steady herself and fight the wave of nausea that hit her at the thought of Luka being dead.

“My God, is she—”

Joanne grabbed Hayley’s shoulders. “No, she’s not…” Hayley knew Luka had always had a special place in Joanne’s heart, and the feeling was mutual, but even this strong woman, who must have lost operatives in the field many times before, apparently couldn’t bring herself to say the words. “She’s very sick but she’s still holding on,” Joanna finally said.

“Take me to her.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Hayley, she’s—”

Hayley held up a hand. “It’s not up for debate, Joanne, so don’t even try.”

“Miss Ward.” Montgomery Pierce appeared in the doorway. He seemed to have aged more than Joanne Grant since the last and only time Hayley had seen them. Nearly three years earlier, they’d all ended up in the same room with Terrence Burrows. Burrows, a screwed-up politician, had tried to blow them all up as part of a bid to bring down the EOO. But Luka had saved them.

“Where is she?” Hayley practically shouted, and looked from one to the other.

“In isolation,” Joanne said. “I’m afraid no visitors are allowed and she’s too weak to—”

“Listen to me.” Hayley took a step closer until her face was inches away from Joanne’s. “I don’t give a good God damn if she’s on another planet. If she’s too weak to talk then I’ll just hold her. Every time her phone rings is yet another time you take her away from me. I accepted long ago that a day could come when she’d never return. I have learned to live with the fact that Misha might call me to tell me that Luka is gone.”

Hayley paused to take a deep breath. “That’s why I make sure every day we spend together counts and that I save every moment in my memory for when I’ll need it. I have even somehow convinced myself that I’ll be able to cope with that loss, because she will have died in the name of duty. Died fighting for some noble cause. But,” Hayley looked at Pierce, “the one thing that never ceases to terrify me is that she will have died alone. Suffered through those last moments without me. Do you have any idea how helpless…useless that makes me feel?” She looked from one to the other, and when neither replied, she shouted, “I will not let her die alone.” Tears streamed down her face.

Pierce was silent for several seconds, his eyes moist. “Follow me.”

Joanne grabbed his arm. “Monty, are you sure?”

“You’ll need to get suited up first,” he told Hayley.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them stood outside Luka’s room. The Hazmat suit made Hayley vaguely claustrophobic, but her discomfort disappeared when she read the words on the door. Code-black isolation. No admittance by unauthorized personnel.

“She tires easily, Miss Ward.”

“I understand.”

Pierce suddenly looked twice his age. “I’m glad you’re here. Go be with her.”

She was so afraid of what she would find on the other side that for the first several seconds after she opened the door, she looked everywhere but directly at Luka. The room was stark white, without decoration or warmth of any kind. Industrial tile in a vague green pattern covered the floor. Recessed fluorescent lights, dimmed to low, dotted the ceiling. The privacy curtains that surrounded the two beds were pulled back, and the bed on the left was empty.

Steeling herself, Hayley looked at the other and gasped.

Luka looked unbelievably small in the single bed and more frail than Hayley had ever seen her, a shadow of the strong, athletic woman who had captured her heart. Her skin was gray, except for a smear of red on her mouth and chin, and dried specks of blood dotted the front of her hospital gown. Surrounding her were numerous monitors, their digital displays keeping track of her pulse, blood pressure, and other vital functions. A nightstand held tissues and water.

Hayley approached the bed.

Luka’s eyes were shut and her breathing shallow. Her nose and mouth were covered by an oxygen mask, attached to a respirator that whooshed softly every few seconds. Her eyes looked bruised from the red circles under them.

Hayley didn’t fight the tears as she gently stroked Luka’s hot forehead. “I’m here, honey,” she whispered, “and I’m not leaving you.”

Luka opened her eyes, squinting like she was trying to focus. “Hayley?” she mumbled.

“Expecting someone else?” Hayley joked in an attempt to cheer her.

Luka slowly lifted her hand to her mouth to pull the oxygen mask away.

“Is that a good idea?” Hayley asked.

“I’ll put it back on if not,” Luka said slowly, as though pronouncing each word took effort. Hayley held her hand. The gloves prevented her from feeling her lover’s warm, soft skin. She wanted to rip them off, but under these circumstances it would be selfish. It wasn’t just herself she needed to protect. “How did they let you in here?”

“I threatened Pierce with his life.”

“Thatta girl.” Luka attempted a smile. “Are you sure you’re safe with me?”

“I’ve always been safe with you. I don’t see how that could ever change.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’m safe, okay? Don’t waste your strength on silly questions.” Hayley wanted to ask Luka how she felt, but the question seemed so stupid, so pedestrian and unnecessary.

“I’m so tired, baby.”

“I know.” Hayley looked away. Tired was too mild a word for how Luka looked. She didn’t know how anyone could deal with the death of a loved one. How would she cope with the pain of losing her when she was already failing at the mere thought of it? “Are you in pain?” She couldn’t conceal the tremor in her voice.

“It’s doable. I’d tell you not to worry but…I know it’s pointless.”

“Are they giving you anything?” Hayley asked, ignoring the comment.

“Yeah, don’t know what. Don’t care to ask as long as it helps. I think it’s wearing off.”

“Should I call for more?”

“No. I want to stay lucid a while longer. Don’t want to sleep now that you’re here.”

Hayley caressed her cheek. “Will you tell me if it gets too much?”

“I promise.”

“They could still find a cure.” Hayley tried to sound positive. “They’re working on it twenty-four seven.”

“I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

“Don’t say that, honey.”

“No one has survived this.”

“Please stay positive, okay?”

“I’m being realis…” Luka sat up abruptly and started to cough. She brought her hand to her mouth, but not before a spray of blood covered the sheets. “Damn it,” she said, when she could talk again.

“Just lay back.” Hayley fixed the pillows for her. She plucked tissues from the box on the nightstand and wiped Luka’s mouth and chin. She tried to keep her eyes away from Luka’s because she knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to handle what she saw. The woman she loved with all her might lay dying in this cold, white, windowless room, and she couldn’t do a thing. She wanted to scream out her frustration and anger. Blame the whole damn world and whatever divine entities for wanting to take Luka away. Luka, the one person who had given her more love and happiness than she could even imagine was possible.

As Hayley wiped the blood from her cheek, Luka gently placed her fingers on the small window in her Hazmat helmet. “I can’t even touch your beautiful face.” Her voice was barely audible.

“Do you need the oxygen mask, honey?” Hayley tried to keep her voice and breathing steady. It was taking all her strength not to fall apart. Luka needed her to be strong and she needed to stay positive. Falling apart would mean admitting defeat, bowing to death, and accepting the inevitable. Hayley was not prepared to do any of the above.

“No. I’m…not done yet. I…want to tell you how much I love you.”

Hayley pulled back and sat on the edge of the bed. She closed her eyes and let the tears flow freely for the first time. “You can’t die. I can’t do this without you. I don’t know how to be without you.”

“You’ll find a way, honey,” Luka said gently. “I know you will. You’re the strongest, most persistent woman I’ve ever met.”

“Christ, Luka, why now? Why now, when we…” Hayley wanted to pull her hair, wipe her eyes from the endless river of tears, but couldn’t get to either because of the suit. A wave of nausea hit her again and she clutched her stomach as she bent over, struggling not to vomit.

Luka stroked her back. “Are you going to be sick?”

Hayley breathed deeply before answering. “I think it’s over.”

“You’re not…sick, are you?” Luka asked, panic in her voice. “How long have you…”

Hayley gazed into her eyes. “Luka…I’m pregnant.”

“No.”

“I found out yesterday.”

Luka dropped back on the pillows, crying. “We’re…” She rubbed her eyes. “You’re going to be a mother.”

“We both are, sweetheart.” Hayley grabbed Luka’s shoulders. “This baby is so much of you. This beautiful child will be as brave and selfless as its amazing mother.”

“Thank you for giving me so much.” Luka’s voice shook. “For giving me the gift of life and hope through this child. I know you’ll do everything in your power to make sure it has the choices I never had.”

“And I intend to spend the rest of my life,” Hayley said between sobs, “telling our child about its mother. About…”

Luka started to cough again, violent expulsions that made her whole body convulse. The blood wouldn’t stop coming, and when Luka started to choke, Hayley pressed the alarm button. Seconds later, two nurses and a doctor stormed through the door. One of the nurses pulled her aside while the other two tended to Luka. “You’d better wait outside.”

“Will she be all right?” Hayley tried to see past the nurse.

“We’ll keep you informed. Please go to the waiting room. You can’t be in here now.” The nurse propelled her toward the door with an arm on her elbow.

Luka was still coughing and having some kind of seizure. Hayley thought she would lose her mind. “I love you,” she screamed above the commotion as the nurse shut the door.

October 26

2 a.m.

The helicopter that brought Fetch and Zoe landed on the hospital roof where three men waited for them, all in Hazmat suits. The three braced themselves against the downdraft from the chopper blades as it descended and were at the door as the skids touched pavement.

When Fetch jumped out she recognized Montgomery Pierce behind one of the trio of white helmets. She and Zoe were ushered into the hospital wing, where everything started to move in fast motion.

One doctor pulled her away, with Pierce following, and another one took Zoe. Fetch looked back and Zoe did, too, and said, “I’ll see you soon.”

They reached a sealed area and Pierce spoke to her for the first time, his voice muffled, as if it came from another room. “You look like hell, Truman.”

“You should see the other guy.”

“If I know you, he’s already fertilizer.”

Fetch smiled.

The doctor handed her a typical hospital-issued backless gown.

“When will we know?” she asked him, “if my friend is carrying the antivirus?”

“In a few hours.”

Pierce turned to the doctor. “If that’s the case, my people get it first. One of my own risked her life to get it to you.”

“As agreed, sir,” the doctor answered with a slight bow of respect.

“You can take the bed next to Luka when you’re ready,” Pierce told her, indicating the adjacent room.

“I don’t need to lie down, sir. I’m still fine.”

“Get your face cleaned up. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir. How is she doing, sir? Luka?”

“Not well. Let’s hope Miss Howe can change that.” He left her to change.

Once she’d pulled on her gown, Fetch entered the isolation room where Luka lay. She looked pale, with dark circles under her eyes. And as she watched, Luka removed an oxygen mask that had been over her face and coughed blood into a bedpan. “You look like hell,” Luka said when she spotted Fetch, and coughed again.

“I’ve seen you look better, too.” Fetch smiled. She sat on the edge of the adjacent bed just as a nurse in a Hazmat suit came in.

Zoe was rushed to an empty room where five men wore the same white snowmen suits. If this were a dream, she’d think aliens had abducted her. She half expected someone to pull out an anal probe. They sat her down and took three vials of blood and left without saying a word. Seconds later, a woman wearing a similar suit entered and handed her a hospital gown. “How long will it take before you know?” she asked.

“A few hours. Get some rest, and I’ll bring you some food soon.”

“Can I shower?”

“In there.” The woman pointed at a closed door and left without another word.

Not great conversationalists. Zoe hated that everything was so vague. She wanted to know how Gianna was faring and what they were doing to her.

Zoe took a long, hot shower and when she came out, a tray of food was waiting. She should’ve devoured it, she hadn’t eaten in many hours, but she was too worried about Gianna. She kept waiting for someone to walk in, but exhaustion finally won and she dozed.

Her sleep was restless, comprised of vivid dreams. She was in the jungle running for her life again, and Gianna was comforting her, telling her they would be all right. Suddenly, they were transported to a house, a beautiful home, where she was safe in Gianna’s arms. Somehow, she knew she was dreaming, and she wished she never had to wake up.

A knock on the door did exactly that. Zoe opened her eyes and a stern man who seemed familiar walked in, dressed in a navy suit and tie. She sat up on the side of the bed, immediately alert but unable to read the man’s gaze.

“My name is Montgomery Pierce, Miss Howe,” He extended his hand.

“And you are?”

“Gianna’s employer.”

“I think I remember,” Zoe said. “You were wearing the snowman suit earlier. You left with Gianna.”

“Correct.”

“Why aren’t you wearing a protective suit now? Why are you here?” She jumped up off the bed. “Is she all right?”

“Please sit down,” he said calmly. “Miss Truman is going to be fine.”

Truman. Funny how she’d never thought to ask Gianna’s last name. “Does that mean we have the cure?”

He smiled. “Indeed we do.”

Zoe sighed loudly. “Thank God. She’ll be okay,” she mumbled to herself. “Can I see her?”

“In a few moments. After I ask you some questions.”

Zoe didn’t want to wait, but the man’s authoritarian demeanor made her sit back down. “What would you like to know?”

“We found certain components in your blood unlike anything we’ve seen before.”

“So, I am immune after all.”

“Yes, but not naturally. We found the exact components against the H1N6 virus. In other words, the antiserum.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Truman…Gianna,” Pierce said, “told me a family member inoculated you with some kind of antiflu serum.”

“My Uncle Edward, yes. He works at Cambridge.”

“And I understand he’s done a lot of private consulting with labs all over the world?”

“That’s right. Did he find the cure?”

“Miss Howe,” his expression was serious, “we have good reasons to believe he is responsible for creating the virus.”

“What? No, that’s impossible. My uncle would never harm anyone.”

“I know it’s difficult to accept.”

Edward? No. She couldn’t accept this at all. “Why would he do this?”

“Money, Miss Howe.”

“But he’s not that kind of person. He’s a good man.”

“Millions have died so he could profit, but he was kind enough to spare you. At least he got that right.”

“Are you certain? I mean, this is a strong accusation.”

“We’re quite sure.”

The news was shocking, but apparently true. Gianna’s boss wouldn’t be saying this if compelling reasons didn’t point to Edward’s involvement. “I’m so sorry. I feel like it’s partly my fault. He’s my family.”

“You had nothing to do with this, Miss Howe.”

“Gianna could have died.”

“Because of you, Miss Howe, she and billions of others get to live.”

He was right, but she couldn’t help feeling guilty. Her uncle—her sweet, harmless Uncle Eddie—had created this monstrosity. “I feel I should apologize for him, but no amount of apologies can bring all the lost lives back.”

“No, they won’t. But you shouldn’t feel you have to apologize for another’s actions.”

“Does Gianna know about this?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think she’ll want to see me?”

He nodded. “She’s been asking about you since they took you away.”

Numb, Zoe stood and walked to the door. “Can I go to her now?”

12 p.m.

Fetch looked over at Luka, dozing in the next bed. They’d been injected with the antivirus hours ago. It had worked in the Petri dish, but they were the first human subjects. Neither objected to being guinea pigs. What did they have to lose?

They’d spoken little as they waited for the serum to either take effect or…not. Like her, Luka was probably too worried or too exhausted to feel either hopeful or defeated. Besides, ops never talked about death or near misses; they didn’t ponder such inevitabilities too much until they lost someone. This unspoken, unwritten law kept them sane.

Luka eventually fell asleep, and Fetch lay staring at the ceiling as she tried to make sense of Zoe’s uncle and his decision to kill millions. What did this say about Zoe’s family, her background, and the environment she grew up in? How would she take the news, and how would it affect her life? Fetch had been through enough with Zoe to know that she would never hurt anyone. How did any family deal with a bad seed?

Although she had no blood ties to any of the ops, she felt a certain camaraderie, a special kind of kinship. She was closer to some than others, but they all shared a common past and goal. From the youngest to the oldest ETF’s, all were soldiers trained to go to war, to give their life to save her, and others, if necessary.

They lived to battle with and for each other. Not for reward, because it didn’t matter how much you earned when you had to pay by the minute. But because saving the life or having the back of another soldier was life’s greatest reward. That’s what soldiers did, and, to Fetch, family did too.

Someone knocked on the door, then said, “Pierce.”

Luka, immediately awake, tried to sit up. Fetch met her eyes as Pierce came in, cleared his throat, and stopped between the two beds. Fetch didn’t dare look at him, unwilling to face the truth. But, finally, Luka did. Was it because Luka had had more time to accept and make peace with death?

But a smile broke across Luka’s face and she said, “We’re going to be fine.”

Fetch looked up at Pierce. The Hazmat suit was gone, and he was smiling, too. “She’s right.”

“I’m not burning up any more!” Luka said as she looked from one to the other. “I don’t…I feel better.”

Fetch fell back onto the bed. “We’re going to live,” she said, as she stared up again at the ceiling. The relief pouring through her was like a shot of adrenaline.

“Yes, you are,” Pierce said. “Thanks to Miss Howe.”

Zoe. “Does she know about her uncle?”

“I informed her.”

“How did she take it?”

“She wants to see you.”

Fetch sat up abruptly and smoothed the bedding. “I’d like that, sir.”

“Hayley,” Luka said. “I need to tell Hayley.”

Pierce continued to smile as he walked to the door and held it open. “That’s being arranged.”

Zoe stood at the entrance to the room, feeling horribly uncomfortable. She glanced at Gianna, then at the other bed. Its occupant, a woman, had fared much worse than Gianna. Dark shadows marred her intense blue eyes; her lips were cracked and her complexion sallow. Her uncle had reduced an otherwise beautiful woman to a zombie.

“Hello,” Zoe said to the woman. “I’m Zoe.”

“Hi, there. Come on in. I’m Luka.”

Zoe stepped forward, terribly afraid of facing Gianna. So far, she’d avoided eye contact, but it was inevitable. Gianna got up and went to the other bed. “Can we have a minute?” she asked Luka.

“As many as you want.”

Gianna pulled the separating curtain around Luka’s cot. Of course privacy was an illusion at this point, but the action forced Zoe to look at Gianna.

“I don’t know what to say,” Zoe muttered.

“Come sit with me.” Zoe didn’t hear any anger and couldn’t detect any contempt, only compassion and kindness.

Zoe sat on the far edge of the bed, facing away from the curtain. “I’m so sorry.”

Gianna sat close to her. “It’s not your fault, Zoe. You’re not responsible for this mess.”

“But my family is.”

“I won’t pretend to know how you feel, though having someone you love and respect betray you is the worst kind of infidelity,” Gianna said gently. “Make no mistake, Zoe, you’re just as much a victim here as the rest of us.”

Date: 2015-01-11; view: 678