Chapter 15 — This Cannot Be Real

Two days after the swabs, something arrived at the house that cracked Christopher’s careful composure wide open.

I was passing the study with a tea tray when I heard his voice come through the door, no longer smooth and bored but sharp with disbelief.

“This cannot be real!” he was shouting, at someone on the phone.

There was a silence, and then the violent rustle of papers being shaken.

“Then run it again,” he snapped.