Page 47 of Examining the Bond

As much as I've tried to shove the thought from my mind, a dark truth lurks at the corners of my mind, threatening to rip apart the fairytale I've found myself in.

What happens when she leaves? What happens when she goes home and we move on with our lives?

What then?

I can't afford to think about it right now.

Like I promised Riann, I woke up early this morning, before sunrise. I took her blood sample, went home to change, and still made it to the office before anyone else. All the better for me.

If I can get things moving quickly this morning, I can have the sequenced DNA by the end of my shift.

I can have answers today…

A mix of adrenaline and nerves fuel my hurried steps as I make my way to the lab upstairs, flipping on the lights and firing up the machines.

The room is long and narrow, with stainless-steel tables spaced evenly throughout and bulky equipment shoved against the walls. Glass shelves are topped with a wild array of tubes, vials, and solutions, the fluorescents overhead glaring against the white floors and walls.

A sense of nostalgia sets in as I make my way across the room—it’s been at least five years since I’ve done any hands-on lab work like this.

Muscle memory kicks in, and I go through the motions like I haven’t missed a day in the lab. Extracting the DNA is the easy part; it’s everything that comes after that makes this difficult. Sequencing an entire strand of DNA could take days or weeks, but I'm starting small by focusing on a single chromosome; the same one the alpha and omega markers exist on.

If there’s something different about Riann’s genes, my best guess is that I’ll find it there.

I load the DNA into the sequencer—a large metal box with a window in the front—and hit the start button.

Then I pull out my phone to check the time. It's early, but I told Riann I would keep her updated, especially since she isn’t coming into the office today. Besides, sending her updates gives me a reason to talk to her.

Good morning, preciosa. I've just loaded your DNA into the sequencer. We should have results by this afternoon.

To my surprise, she replies right after.

Riann: You work fast. I’m excited.

Riann: Will I get to see you again today?

A smile works across my face at the message. How could I possibly tell her no when the only thing I want to do after work is go straight to her hotel room?

Do you want to see me?

Riann: It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

My laugh echoes through the lab, and I can’t fight the goofy grin that crosses my face. How did I go from railing her in my office to being giddy like a high-schooler talking to their crush?

This is insane.

And I’m enjoying every second of it.

That could be arranged. I’ll let you know for sure by the end of my shift.

Then, I head back downstairs to my office to get ready for the day.

The hours drag, the minutes crawling by on their hands and knees. I do everything I can to distract myself, from reorganizing my filing cabinet to stretching and doing upper body workouts on my lunch break. But nothing helps speed up the time; if anything, it makes it pass slower.

In an attempt to abate my restless boredom, I send an email to some of the other leading designation research facilities that we work with, and even some that we don’t. Hopefully one of them will have seen someone like Riann, with her peculiar symptoms and test results.

Then, I wait some more.

I’m dozing in my office chair, head propped on one of my hands, when someone knocks on the door. I shoot upright, blinking as I get my bearings.