Lost Immunity Daniel Kalla (reading women TXT) 📖

to a cop.” Lisa laughs. “Anyway, my sister’s family lives in Bellevue. And two of Olivia’s classmates have already developed this meningitis.”

Fiona frowns. “I’m sorry, Lisa.”

“Maybe I’m just being an overprotective aunt. But Olivia is probably the closest thing I will ever have to a kid of my own…”

“You want to get her vaccinated?”

“Yeah. My sister is skeptical of vaccines, though. To put it mildly. But I think I’ve managed to convince her.”

“Good.”

“Look, I know we agreed that all vaccinations would be supervised by a Delaware rep. And I can definitely bring Olivia into one of the clinics. But my sister asked me if I would give Olivia the—”

Fiona stops her with a raised hand. Her lips curve into an understanding smile. “Let me go get you a vial, Lisa.”

CHAPTER 39

Nathan sits in his hotel room in front of his laptop, once again logged into the administrator’s portal on Seattle Public Health’s website for reporting Neissovax complications. He rereads each one of the seventy-nine reported entries, eyes peeled for any sign or symptom remotely consistent with a skin reaction similar to Mia’s. The more he snoops, the guiltier he feels.

A pop-up appears at a corner of his screen, announcing a video call from Peter Moore. He clicks open the video chat window, and his boss’s face fills the screen.

“Enjoying your vacation?” Peter asks with a smile that appears less than sincere.

“About as much as a getaway to the Congo at the height of Ebola season.”

“You work best under pressure, Nathan.”

“Not this kind, Peter.”

The grin vacates Peter’s lips. “This girl with the skin condition? She’s doing better?”

“She’s still in the ICU, but I understand she’s stable and improving.”

“That’s good. Also, it guarantees a bigger financial payout for her and the family if she survives.”

“That’s a bit cavalier.”

“There’s more money in disability than in death,” Peter says matter-of-factly. “And there will be a lawsuit.”

“How do you know?”

“My spies tell me the father is out for blood. He was the one who leaked the story and the photos to the media.”

Nathan’s eyes narrow. “Your spies, Peter?”

“Does it surprise you that I’m keeping close tabs on this?”

“No,” Nathan says. “But it does surprise me that you’re keeping me out of the loop.”

“It’s no big deal, Nathan. We hired a local investigator to poke around. Didn’t think it was significant enough to even tell you.”

“Everything related to Neissovax is significant.”

“So we’re on the same page, then,” Peter says unapologetically. “No other adverse reactions that we need to be concerned about?”

“I’ve been monitoring the website. Nothing, so far.”

“It’s a one-off, then.”

“Only time will tell.”

Peter’s gaze ices over. “That won’t fly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It has to be a one-off, Nathan.”

CHAPTER 40

The timer on the microwave dings, and Emilio Flores almost burns his finger grabbing the hot bowl with his bare hand. “Damn it,” he mutters to himself as he races the bowl over to the waiting plate on the counter. Using a tea towel, he flips the bowl over and taps out the scrambled eggs onto the buttered toast.

“Come down, Mateo,” Emilio calls up the stairs to his son. “Now! Breakfast is ready. And we’re going to be late.”

“I don’t want to eat, Papá!” the eight-year-old replies.

That’s unusual, Emilio thinks as he stands at the sink and runs cold water over his throbbing finger. Not only is Mateo always hungry, but he’s also the most compliant kid. Sometimes, Emilio worries that his son is too accommodating—always doing as he’s told and never complaining. He would like to see more defiance from Mateo. But not this morning. “Too bad. Papá cocinó esto,” Emilio yells over his shoulder. “Now you’re going to eat it.”

His wife, Isabelle, is already at the church helping her sister with the last-minute preparations. Isabelle will kill us if we’re late. After all, Mateo is the ring bearer for his aunt’s wedding.

It takes another five minutes and two more shouts before Mateo finally appears in the doorway to the kitchen. The first thing Emilio notices is his son’s white shirt. It’s stained in several places with slick yellowish blotches that resemble grease.

“Mateo Flores!” Emilio barks. “Mamá just washed and ironed that shirt. What did you get all over it?”

“It’s not my fault, Papá,” Mateo says as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

Emilio suddenly notices how pale his son looks. He takes a step closer. “What’s the matter, buddy?”

“My chest hurts. My back, too.” Mateo slips off his shirt. “And I don’t know what these are.”

Emilio can only gape at his son’s exposed chest. Fluid-filled sacks the size of golf balls—some even bigger—cover much of his skin. And Mateo’s back is worse. A steady trickle of yellow fluid runs down and soaks the back of his pants.

CHAPTER 41

Amber answers the door with a phone to her ear. “Come in,” she mouths to Lisa as she turns back toward the living room.

Lisa has only taken a few steps inside the house when her niece comes flying down the hallway toward her. Lisa crouches down and spreads her arms. Olivia jumps into the embrace.

“I’m not scared, Tee!” Olivia trumpets as Lisa straightens and spins her around.

“Scared of what?” Lisa asks, kissing her niece’s forehead.

“The needle.”

“Of course you aren’t. You’re way too brave for that. Bet you won’t even flinch.”

Olivia drops back to the ground. “What’s ‘flinch’?”

Lisa flings her arm back, leans away, and contorts her face into an expression of exaggerated fear.

Olivia giggles. “I definitely won’t flinch.”

Amber approaches holding out the phone to Lisa. “Can you talk?”

“Who is it?” Lisa asks, reaching for the phone.

“Dad.”

Lisa’s hand freezes where it is.

“Come on,” Amber whispers. “He just wants to say hello.”

Reluctantly, Lisa takes the phone. She walks down the hall and into the kitchen before she brings it to her ear. “Hi, Dad.”

“Liberty!” Ian Dyer says. “I mean Lisa, of course. Old habits die slowly when you’re this old.”

She hasn’t heard her father’s voice in over two years, maybe three, but he sounds as robust and animated as