going to live long enough to explain every child you used.”
Police sirens echoed above us.
Genevieve stood several feet away.
Neither of us knew what to do.
Then she whispered, “How are they?”
I couldn’t answer for several seconds.
“Alive.”
She covered her mouth.
“Take me to them.”
The correction sequence reached Yates seventeen minutes later.
He began the regulator infusion immediately.
We returned to St.
Matthew as dawn rose over Chicago.
Genevieve stood outside the twins’ room.
Her hands shook so badly she couldn’t open the door.
I opened it for her.
Blythe was awake.
Weak.
Confused.
She looked toward the doorway.
Her eyes widened.
“Mommy?”
Genevieve made a sound I had never heard from another human being.
She crossed the room and fell beside the bed.
Blythe touched her face.
“You’re warm.”
Genevieve laughed and cried at the same time.
Jonah woke minutes later.
He stared.
Then
