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“Family?” I hesitate to ask this question. The plague has taken a huge toll, and everyone has lost someone.

“My dad is still there.” She glances down. “That’s all. You? I mean, other than your sister?”

“She’s all I have.” I fire up my laptop. “We lost Dad before the plague, and then Mom after it started.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. For you, I mean. For all of us, I guess.” Like everyone else, I shove the grief away. If you dwell on it, you’ll never be able to move forward, never be able to take another step. So many people have lost everyone they ever loved; some have lost everyone they ever knew. I’m not the only one who’s hurting, but I can do everything in my power to stop others from losing even more.

“The sample completely degraded overnight,” Aang, always a ray of sunshine, calls.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s congealed crap.” Aang spins in his chair and glares at me. “It was so old it couldn’t last one more day even with refrigeration. We have nothing to look at.Nothing.”

“The plasma too?” I ask.

“We still have that, but it’s pretty much barren.”

“If we don’t have the blood, we work with what wedohave, all right? Wyatt, send me the imaging you did of the cells. I’ll start there with my research. This can’t be the only instance of this blood to ever exist in scientific record.”

“I’ll work on the plasma,” Evie offers.

“I can take the electrolytes if you do the proteins?” Gretchen wheels back to her desk.

“Deal.” Evie snaps on some gloves.

“I’ll sit here and despair,” Aang chirps.

“No, you’ll comb through what’s left of the sample with me to see if we can find anything at all to work with.” Wyatt walks past Aang and claps him on the shoulder. “There’s my favorite guy.”

“I hate forced positivity,” Aang grumbles but gets up and follows Wyatt.

I get to work on my research, but my thoughts keep straying to the note in my pocket. I’d looked at it this morning while I pretended to put on makeup—it was lucky I even had a compact and a brush to accomplish this ruse, given my lack of experience with cosmetics. But the note was coded, only a set of eight letters and numbers along with four more markings I didn’t recognize. I know just as little now as I did before I bothered to read it. What’s worse, I’m no code breaker. I wouldn’t even know where to start with trying to figure out what the hell it says.

We work through the morning, and by the time noon rolls around, Gene pokes his head through the lab doors and says lunch is waiting out in the open area beyond the ballroom.

The gargoyles are still standing watch as we filter out and around the corner to a folding table where Gene’s laid out a steaming platter of chicken breasts smothered in some sort of sauce, a bowl of salad with a half-full bottle of Greek dressing, and a basket of rolls.

“Nice!” Wyatt’s already reaching for a plate.

“And—” Gene pulls open the lid to a red cooler beside the table. “I found some Cokes.”

“Holy shit.” Aang reaches in and grabs a ‘Dr. Thunder’. “I haven’t had one of these in years.”

“Move.” Gretchen digs around and pulls out another one. “It’s like Christmas,” she whispers reverently.

“An embarrassment of riches.” Wyatt grins.

“Doctor?” Gene motions to the cooler.

“When in Rome.” I reach in and grab one. They’re still cold and slushy. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Gene smiles. “Now eat up while it’s hot.”

We do just that, making our plates and carrying them to the atrium to eat at one of the round tables. I glance at the front doors and spot Gage—or Captain Howard, I suppose—outside. How can I give him the note without the other guard seeing?

“Already got your sights set on a man in uniform?” Evie asks, the question teasing.