“Yes,” she answered thoughtfully. “They found clusters of concentrated diagnoses in areas like Chernobyl as well as Hiroshima. The fall-out in both cases was extensive. However, even with Chernobyl being as recent as 1986, the lack of technology, compared to current day, limited the data.”

Val’s expression lit up, as it did whenever she was excited. “Actually, my professor is among a group of researchers studying the population around Fukushima, Japan. They have so many more resources today. Since the reactors only melted down in 2011, the results won’t be found for a long time, but with this incident, they have a better idea what kind of base data to retrieve.” She looked wishfully into her tea. “I’d love to know what they’ve learned. It’s all so exciting.”

“But those cases aren’t some form of bioterrorism like you were insinuating earlier.”

“No. Those were all incidences of radiation exposure. We all know that radiation is a known carcinogen. So based on the exposure, they can learn a lot. However, of course, the CDC is also on the lookout for hot pockets of unknown etiology.”

“Ha! Like a few missing drugs from our clinics could cause that.”

Val’s expression darkened. “Well, Vikki, that’s how it starts: a few drugs from one clinic, a few from another. It all adds up. Suddenly, things are happening without cause. People are losing their hair and becoming ill. Think about it: some Cytoxan in powder form, distributed through an HVAC system in a building that houses or employs thousands of people could make a real mark for a terrorist organization.”

“Would it really be that easy?”

“No. Something like that would cause residue. The perpetrators would be caught or end up killing themselves. Where it would work better and be less likely to cause red flags is on a smaller scale. For the average murder, it could work well. That makes an assassination attempt a concern.”

“God, Val, this is heavy shit. Maybe you should decide to write a crime novel?”

“It is heavy. That’s why there are so many forms to fill out and hoops to jump through.”

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I shook my head. “I’m sorry to bother you with my alibi. I know you have bigger concerns.”

A candid smile came to her lips. “Honestly, Vik, I’m there for you anytime. I know Stewart isn’t the love of your life. I also know you’ve done all you can do to make the best of it. I don’t mean to concern you with the everyday shit of the clinics.”

“But,” I asked, “if you were to start U.S. clinics, would there still be so much scrutiny?”

She shook her head. “No… and yes. No matter where the clinic is located, everything needs to be accounted for. However, there’s a normal, acceptable amount of natural attrition. I mean, shit happens. Solutions are mixed incorrectly and vials are discarded. Of course, it should all be documented, but sometimes the nurses get overwhelmed and things happen. That’s all taken into consideration during audits.” She reached out and grabbed my knee. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t had time to put together the proposal for the U.S. clinics yet.”

“Honey, I like that idea much better than having you traipse all over the world. I mean, if terrorists groups are looking for these drugs, I don’t like the idea of your traveling with them.” Changing the subject, I stood and walked to Val’s shelf of pictures. I lifted the picture in the middle; it was a photograph of the two of us, taken during my senior year of high school at the academy. We both looked so young, so innocent. There were also pictures of Marcus and Lyle and one of mom and Randall. That reminded me of something. “Guess who’s been trying to contact me?”

Val looked down. “I know. She’s called me too.”

I spun. “Why? Why the hell would she be bothering you?”

“Because she can’t reach you. She asked me to ask you to call her.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Do you know what she wants?”

“No,” Val answered curtly. “I can guess.”

“Tell me that she hasn’t asked you for money.”

“She hasn’t. Well, not since the time you laid her out and explained the difference between my work as a doctor and Randall’s.”

“Good,” I said matter-of-factly.

“I believe it has to do with money for Marcus’ education.” Val volunteered. “She’s very excited that he’s attending the University of Miami. It’s very difficult to get into.”

“I know,” I said dryly.

“Yes, I know. You were accepted there too. Well, I’m guessing her constant calling has to do with the tuition. The second semester will be coming due soon. Mom blew through Randall’s life insurance money pretty fast.”

I shook my head. “What kind of a mother blows through millions of dollars when she has two sons who need an education?”

Val shrugged. “I’m going out on a limb here, but I’d say one who has a daughter who could buy the damn university if she wanted.”

“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath. As much as I didn’t want to save her skinny ass, I also didn’t want Marcus or Lyle to suffer. I mean, damn, he’d been accepted on his own merit.

My mother blamed me for her second husband’s early demise. Another body to my count, as she so eloquently put it the afternoon of the funeral. I’d been the one to turn down Randall’s request for cash. It wasn’t enough that I’d sold my body and soul for them once. He had the audacity to fall into the same trap: over a million in debt to a bookie.




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