“And?” Tex prompts.
“The calf,” Dr. Morales says. “The one that died yesterday. It wasn’t the parasite that killed it.”
I blink. “What?”
“It was a secondary infection,” he explains. “Bovine viral diarrhea. BVD. The calf hadn’t been vaccinated for it. The stress of the separation and the parasite exposure compromised its immune system, allowing the virus to take hold. It was a complication, not the primary cause.”
“But the parasite…” Billy says.
“Is present,” Dr. Petrova says. “In all of you. The cattle, the brothers, Sedona, Clara. You are all carriers.”
My stomach sinks.
“However,” Dr. Miles continues, “we have identified the strain. It’s a protozoan parasite. It’s aggressive, but it’s not the mystery illness we feared.”
He taps the clipboard.
“The breakthrough came from Dr. Archer’s bloodwork,” he says.
My head snaps up. “Sedona?”
“Yes,” Dr. Petrova says. “She’s taking a course of antiviral medication. Immune boosters. We noticed that her viral loadwas significantly lower than the others. The parasite was present, but it was dormant. Inactive.”
“Because of her meds?” Billy asks.
“Precisely,” Dr. Miles says. “The antivirals she was prescribed for her immune system inadvertently attacked the parasite’s life cycle. It suppressed it.”
“So…” I say, hope starting to bubble in my chest. “So she’s not dying?”
“No,” Dr. Petrova says. “She is fighting it off. Effectively.”
“And us?” Tex asks. “The cattle?”
“We have developed a treatment protocol,” Dr. Miles says. “Based on the compound in Dr. Archer’s medication. It’s a targeted antiviral therapy. We can administer it to the herd immediately. And to the humans.”
“Is it a cure?” Billy asks.
“It’s a treatment,” Dr. Petrova says. “But yes. If we start the regimen tonight, the parasite should be eradicated from the system within seventy-two hours. You will all be cleared.”
The air rushes back into my lungs.
“Three days?” I ask.
“Three days,” Dr. Miles confirms. “No more quarantine. No more risk of transmission. The cattle will recover. The ranch will be safe.”
Tex slumps against the fence. He covers his face with his hands.
“Thank god,” he mutters.
Billy nods. He looks relieved, but his face is still tight.
“And Sedona?” he asks. “She’s okay?”
“Dr. Archer is stable,” Dr. Petrova says. “Her fever is down. She will need rest, but she will make a full recovery.”
Billy closes his eyes for a second. He sways on his feet.
I watch him. I see the weight lifting off his shoulders. The fear that has been crushing him for two days—fear for her, fear for the ranch—is finally easing.
