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Jost stops in front of one of the houses and we wait for him to give us instructions. After a few minutes I realize he’s as stuck as I am, caught in a loop of self-doubt.
I take his hand and hold it. “Let’s get Sebrina.”
But he doesn’t move, only turns to look at me. There’s something imploring in his eyes. “What if she’s dead?”
“She’s not.” I channel his earlier certainty and try to sound as confident as he did then.
“She won’t know me,” Jost says. “I’m a stranger, not her father.”
This time Dante is the one to speak. “You will always be her father. Nothing can change that.”
A lump grows in my throat. Poor Dante is the closest to understanding how Jost feels.
I know what scares Jost. He’s worried that after everything he’s gone through to find her, Sebrina will reject him. How do you swallow the truth after a diet of lies?
“Let’s check it out,” Erik says, pushing past us.
I want to stop him because I can’t bear to watch another person walk into the unknown. Instead, I follow him, circling the house to check for signs of people.
The house appears deserted.
“I think it’s abandoned,” I say to Erik.
He gives me a grim look and he doesn’t have to say what I know he’s thinking. Or they’re dead.
“We won
’t know until we go in,” Jost says, moving toward the door.
It’s locked. His hand balls into a fist, but before he can knock against it, the door opens a crack.
“Are you the doctor?” a small voice asks.
Jost drops to his knees until he’s level with the child peeping through the crack.
“We’ve come to help.” His voice is husky and I can hear the tears he’s holding back.
“My parents are sick,” the child says. “They won’t come out of their room.”
My stomach turns over. They have the virus.
Does Sebrina?
I bend down and smile at her. “Can we come in and help?”
There’s a moment of hesitation, but the girl nods.
As I stand up, Dante whispers in my ear, “Don’t touch her.”
I don’t like that he said it. Not only because I hate what he’s thinking, but also because I worry what will happen to Jost if Sebrina is ill. And because this is now an introduction layered with fear instead of joy.
The door opens and there she is. Already half my height, I know she has to be nearly five years old with the time we’ve spent on Earth. I expect to see the same calculation in Jost’s eyes when I turn to speak to him. But it’s not there.
Sebrina was a baby when the Guild took her from Jost. Now she’s a young girl, self-sufficient enough to open the door for the doctor. She has wide, curious eyes that are the same blue as her father’s. But her hair is dark and curly. She wrinkles her nose and crosses her arms as she takes us in.
“You don’t look like doctors,” she says.
“We’re not,” I say, gesturing to Jost but adding quickly, “They are.”
