“Precisely,” Marissa said. “That’s where the CDC comes in. I think that the Attorney General’s office and the State Department have to be alerted simultaneously. If this conspiracy is to be broken, it will take their combined power, and I think they will listen to the CDC. I can tell you it won’t be easy. Any organization that is as big and as wealthy as Fertility, Limited, and its subsidiaries will have significant political clout.”

“Since it is a national problem here in the United States,” Cyrill said, “the FBI will have to be involved.”

“Undoubtedly,” Marissa agreed. “And thank God for it, because I’m certain Tristan and I are going to need some protection for a time. We may even have to hide away someplace. I’m afraid that the Wing Sin has a global reach.”

Cyrill got to his feet. “I’m going to run upstairs,” he said. “I want to see if I can catch the director before he leaves for the day. Would you two mind waiting here for a moment?”

After Cyrill left, Marissa faced Tristan. “What do you think?” she asked. “Honestly?”

“Honestly?” Tristan repeated. “I think you’re a spunky, knackered battler.”

“Please, Tristan,” Marissa said. “I’m serious. Cut the Aussie babble and speak English.”

“I’m being serious too,” Tristan said. “I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re exhausted. And I think you are amazing. In fact, you’re a little intimidating. And on top of all that, I think you are right. And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather go into hiding with than you.”

Epilogue

November 22, 1990
11:55 A.M.

“What’s that street sign over there?” Tristan asked, pointing in front of Marissa, who was sitting in the passenger seat of a Hertz rent-a-car.

“I don’t know!” Marissa sighed in exasperation. “I can’t see it unless you pull ahead of this tree next to us.”

“Right you are, luv,” Tristan said. He pulled the car ahead about a foot.

“Cherry Lane,” Marissa read.

“Cherry Lane?” Tristan questioned. He bent over the map he’d drawn. “I can’t figure these directions out.”

“Perhaps now we could go back down the hill and ask?” Marissa said. They’d passed a service station a few minutes before.

Tristan’s head shot up. “Listen,” he said, “I can find the damn house, okay?”

For a moment the two glared at each other. Then they both broke into easy laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Tristan said. “I suppose I’m a touch tense. Didn’t mean to snap.”

“I didn’t mean to either,” Marissa said. “I think we’re both under a bit of strain.”

“That’s an understatement,” Tristan said. “I don’t even know if Chauncey will recognize me. It’s been over three years.”

“But he’s six,” Marissa said. “I think he’ll recognize you. I wonder what he will think of me.”