Dr. Kempner said, “Dr. Goodweather, this isn’t a question of who loves your son more. It never is, in these situations. Wonderful, that you both care so much, so deeply. Your dedication to Zack is plainly evident. But, as is so often the case, there seems to be no way to prevent this from turning into a contest. The state of New York issues guidelines I must follow in my recommendation to the judge.”

Eph swallowed bitterly. He tried to interrupt, but she kept on talking. “You’ve resisted the court’s original custodial inclination, you’ve fought it every step of the way. And I consider that a measure of your affection for Zachary. You have also made great personal strides, and that is both evident and admirable. But now we find that you have reached your court of last resort, if you will. In the formulas we use for arbitrating custody. Visitation rights, of course, have never been in question…”

“No, no, no,” murmured Eph, like a man about to be rammed by an oncoming car. It was this same sinking feeling he’d had all weekend. He tried reaching back—to he and Zack sitting in his apartment, eating Chinese food and playing video games. The entire weekend stretched out before them. What a glorious feeling that had been.

“My point, Dr. Goodweather,” said Dr. Kempner, “is that I can’t see much purpose in going any further.”

Eph turned to Nora, who looked up at him, understanding in an instant what he was going through.

“You can tell me it’s over,” Eph whispered into the phone. “But it’s not over, Dr. Kempner. It never will be.” And with that, he hung up.

He turned away, knowing Nora would respect him in this moment and not try to approach. And for that he was grateful, because there were tears in his eyes that he did not want her to see.

The First Night

THE FIRST NIGHT

Just a few hours later, inside the basement morgue of the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in Manhattan, Dr. Bennett was finishing up after a very long day. He should have been exhausted, but in fact he was exhilarated. Something extraordinary was happening. It was as though the normally reliable rules of death and decomposition were being rewritten, right in this room. This shit went beyond established medicine, beyond human biology itself…perhaps even into the realm of the miraculous.

As planned, he had halted all autopsies for the night. Some work continued on other matters, the medico-legal investigators operating out of the cubicles upstairs, but the morgue was Bennett’s. He had noticed something during the CDC doctors’ visit, something about the blood sample he had drawn, the opalescent fluid he had collected in a specimen jar. He had stored it in the back of one of the specimen coolers, stashing it behind some glassware like the last good dessert inside a community refrigerator.