“Did you find out if my friend is okay?” I ask.

Dr. Haddox looks confused, like he’s forgotten all about Jasper, and I feel that he has. “Well, um, no——”

“We can go home?” Ramona asks, appearing next to me, arms crossed tight.

“Um, well, no, but the series of tests came in from your initial blood work—and I know some of you were never tested. But we already have enough preliminary data to confirm that there is no concern about any of you being contagious,” he says, making a baseball umpire’s safe-on-base motion with his hand.

“Contagious?” Becca snaps, working her neck to the side. She’s pissed, but scared, too. “Who said anything about contagious?”

Dr. Haddox’s eyes get wide, out of his depth again. “Well, um, we were pretty sure it wasn’t communicable,” he stammers. “But it is, um, good to get confirmation. It is strange that there would be so many instances of PANDAS in such a contained geographical area. That was part of why we—or they—wanted to have all of you here.”

I can only imagine now how those living room conversations had gone with the other parents. How easy it would have been to scare them: Do you have other children at home, elderly neighbors? Because we can’t be sure they are not at risk. We don’t know what exactly this illness is. And we can’t be sure that it won’t take a turn for the worse. It would be best to have trained medical staff on hand as a precaution. Yes, only a precaution. Protect their children, that’s what good parents would do. Just in case.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Ebola, does it?” Teresa asks as she comes to stand next to me. She sounds frightened, but I also feel like she’s—weirdly—smiling on the inside, like some wicked little kid messing with someone.

“Ebola? No, no. Of course not,” Dr. Haddox says, looking confused and a little exasperated by the question. “As I said before, no one with Ebola has ever even been in this building. But it is understandable that you would all like more information. And luckily”—he crosses the room to the far set of doors, peers back and forth through the small glass windows like he is looking for someone outside—“someone from the NIH is finally here. He can offer you a much better explanation of how you all might have contracted the initial strep infection.” Dr. Haddox exhales. He is relieved, but not for us. He is glad to be relieved of us. We are about to become the NIH’s problem. “Let me step out and see where this elusive Dr. Frederick Mitchell is.”