“Same here,” I said, my face relaxing into a smile.

“Maybe we’ll meet up in Washington, D.C., to testify before Congress. I guess it depends on how much of this Ishango stuff comes out.”

“Oh, it’ll come out,” I said. “We may get in trouble, but it’s our duty. This town has released too much radiation and evil. Now’s the time for us to let out the truth.”

Jordan sat back, wearing a thoughtful expression. “You’re right,” he said. “What happened in Mount Hope should serve as a warning to the rest of the world.”

“Yep,” I said. “They may even pay attention for a couple of days. That’s how long the news cycle is, right?”

“Right.”

“In the meantime, scientists will have a field day checking you out … Rho.”

He laughed.

“And I’ll be getting cancer treatments,” I couldn’t resist adding.

Jordan’s expression darkened. “Maggie, we won’t know what’s really going on until you finally see a specialist,” he said with a squeeze of my hand. “Which you’re going to do. I suspect everyone from Mount Hope will have to do the same. Who knows? By the time this is all over, you may be my Jaime Sommers.”

“I have no intention of being your Bionic Woman—or anyone else’s.”

“Well, I already think your powers are pretty super,” he said, and leaned in to give me a kiss. It felt more than nice.

“That may be the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me, Jordan Conners,” I said as he pulled back. “Anyway, I’m Han Solo, remember?”

I smiled and looked out the helicopter window to see the skyline of an actual city: Charleston. What a sight. We landed on the hospital’s helipad beside another helicopter with CNN emblazoned on its side plus vans marked with a 2, a 4, and a 5—the local news stations.

“I don’t know if you guys know what’s going on,” Brianna called out as the rotors slowed their spinning, “but with all of that water flooding in and out of that nuke plant, they’re saying the town may not be habitable for twenty thousand years.”

“Cripes,” Jordan said. “What a disaster.”

“Who’d have thunk that a facility so vital to the community would’ve been that susceptible to disaster?” I asked innocently.

“Twice,” Jordan added.

Brianna leaned toward us conspiratorially and said in a hushed voice, “I heard they’re already moving to seal off the plant in a giant cement sarcophagus. Crazy.”

“Crazy,” I agreed.

A phalanx of reporters and camera crews stampeded toward us, trailed by medical personnel.

“Are you ready to issue a warning to the world?” I asked Jordan.

“Yes,” he said, “except for two things. One …”

He pulled out his cell phone, saw the bars on the screen, and exclaimed, “Yes!” He punched in a number, and after a moment, his face erupted in sheer joy. “Mom! It’s Jordan! You okay? … Charlie too? … Great! Hold on!”

Then he cupped his hand over the phone and said, “Two,” and leaned in and planted the gentlest kiss yet on my lips. My face suddenly felt sunburned.