She stopped for a minute to look at her notes. “Still, it is strange that so many people are contracting plague in Douglas County right now. Strange and worrying. I showed Dr. Madej the photos that Dr. Roque took of the woman whose body was stolen. Her body—her skin—was so damaged he didn’t want to be on record with his opinion, but he didn’t believe there were any signs of plague. However, he must inform the Centers for Disease Control and also local health authorities on account of Dr. Roque and Dr. Hitchcock.”

“Yes, of course. Dr. Herschel in Chicago is also doing so, and she thinks the Cleveland Clinic has already notified them,” I agreed. “If Spirova showed up ill at McKinnon’s farmhouse, could she have infected August Veriden and Emerald Ferring? Have they died in hiding?”

“If she coughed on them, maybe,” Aanya tried to reassure me. “If they ran away without being in direct contact with her or with fleas that had bitten her, they should be safe. After all, the woman who died in the truck, it was her house, am I right in saying this? And she did not die of plague.”

“No, a bullet to the back of the head,” I agreed grimly. “Guaranteed results, nothing as chancy as hoping a flea would bite the target.”

We were both silent, depressed by the story we were uncovering. I started to end the conversation, but Aanya said, “I almost forgot: I have your DNA results.”

“And?”

“Neither woman is related to the baby. But they are closely related to each other.”

“Mother and daughter?”

“No. Siblings.”

I sucked in a breath. “Sisters? But then—who is the dead baby?”

“I do not know. Until you send me more DNA from different people, I cannot make any guesses at all.”

“Does this mean they have the same father or the same mother?”

Aanya shook her head, her smile glimmering briefly again. “That I cannot tell you. I am only a lab tech, not the archangel Gabriel, who oversees conception.”

“What an unpleasant thought! Angels in the room at such a moment—as if surveillance by the NSA weren’t enough of a burden.”

At that Aanya actually laughed. She stopped, looking stricken. “I did not think I would ever smile again, but here I am, laughing.”

“It’s human, or life,” I suggested. “We can’t reside in grief forever any more than in joy.”

“I know.” The Skype video showed tears in the corners of her black eyes. “I know we cannot stop life from flowing on, we cannot reside always in grief, but I do not want to abandon Dr. Roque, not just yet.”