“Liar.” She laughed and shook her head. “Just like my Frank. I can tell when he’s full of it.” She took a long pull of her own lemonade and set the sweating glass aside. “Now tell me what’s going on. Those men came and took my Frank, and then my baby girl, and no one has told me a damn thing!”

“I’m sorry about that, Mrs. O’Reilly, I—”

“Call me Megan.”

“Megan… I’m afraid I’m the reason for all of this. Because I told Kathy about that trial. The medicine your husband took was… experimental. And it’s caused some concerns.”

“Concerns?” Megan looked panicked.

“I don’t want to alarm you, Mrs. O—I mean Megan. Unfortunately, I can’t go into the specifics. But I can assure you I’m doing everything I can to help. And to do that, I need some DNA for Kathy or Frank, from before they took the medicine. A strand of hair. A toothbrush that hasn’t been used in a long time. But again, it has to have been from before they took the medicine.”

“But why Kathy? She didn’t take the medicine.”

“I understand she may have drunk some of it by accident?”

“She did,” Mrs. O’Reilly confirmed. “I remember exactly when it happened, but I think it was only that one time.”

“That seems to be all it needed. The thing is, I’m trying the best I can to see if I can do something to fix it. To do that, I need some DNA from the time before they got their treatment.

Megan took a deep breath. Then she stood. “Follow me, Dr. Gutierrez.”

He smiled. “Call me Juan.”

She led him to a bedroom that was clearly being used solely for storage. It was full of boxes and crates. Some were open, and Juan saw knives, antique guns, photo albums, carved wooden figures, and more.

“Excuse the mess. This is where I store lots of my knickknacks and such,” Megan said as she rummaged through the boxes.

After a moment she huffed with frustration, looked up on one of the shelves and motioned toward a cardboard box roughly four times the size of a photo album that was just out of her reach. “Can you be a dear and get that box down? I think I’ve got some of Kathy’s baby stuff in there.”

Reaching up to the top shelf, Juan carefully retrieved the box and handed it to Megan.

She sat on the middle of the floor, cross-legged, and unfolded the top of the cardboard box. She dug around and suddenly smiled as she extracted a small Ziploc bag that had a tiny lock of red hair tied with a pink bow. “Aww, this is from my baby’s first haircut.” She looked up at Juan and asked, “Would this work?”