“Wait a minute,” Kathy said. “Does that mean Dad’s going to get his cancer back after you give him that shot?”

Juan had anticipated that question—and he hated the answer. “The fact is, I don’t know. Nobody does. We’re in uncharted territory. My best guess is that if the cancer was put into full remission—meaning all the cancer cells were eliminated—then this shot shouldn’t reverse any of that. But I can’t promise that, because we’ve never done this before. I can’t promise the cancer won’t come back.”

Frank put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “You said you trust this doctor. Let’s do what he advises. I just want to get you home to your mother. We’ll handle whatever comes our way after that.”

Kathy still looked uncertain, but she nodded. “Okay.”

“Wait, one more thing.” Kathy hitched her thumb toward the table and said, “How will we know if those shots worked?”

“Well, I believe that an elevated temperature is part and parcel of the genetic changes you both received. My guess is that we’ll see your fever break. That’ll be the first sign. We have other fairly extensive genetic tests that we can do, but those will take time.” Juan picked up two syringes, each marked with one of their names. “This is a pretty high dose of the newly modified virus with your original DNA in it, at least compared to what you drank in those glasses of water. I have two more doses that I’d like you to take, each twelve hours apart. So, if you’re ready, I just need your arms.”

Frank began removing his shirt while Kathy took off her outer shirt, revealing a form-fitting tank top underneath. She turned her right shoulder toward Juan and cringed. “Please be gentle. I hate shots.”

Juan swabbed Kathy’s arm with alcohol, popped the cap off the syringe and said, “On three. One… two—” He slid the needle into her arm and pressed the plunger. “Three.”

“Ow!” Kathy rubbed at the injection site. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

He smiled. “Oops.”

She pouted as he placed a Band-Aid on her arm. “Thank you.”

Juan reached for the next syringe and gave her a weak smile. “There’s nothing to thank me for yet. We don’t know for certain if this will work.”

“Either way, I have plenty to thank you for,” Kathy said, her cheeks flushing.

Juan wiped Frank’s upper arm with the alcohol swab and said, “Let’s wait and see. I’ll be here through the night and into tomorrow. Remember, every twelve hours.”

###

Twelve hours later, Kathy was receiving her second shot. She winced as the needle pierced her skin, but she managed not to cry out this time.