I finally looked at her directly. I know because three years ago, K. Sheffield was involved in a disease outbreak in Ecuador that killed six people. I know because he falsified quarantine documents and lied to federal investigators. I know because it's my job to know these things.
Angela, I read the briefings. I saw his name. I remembered. Her legs seem to give out. She sank onto the couch, hands covering her face.
You went to Peru with a man who has a documented history of reckless exposure to infectious diseases. I continued, you stayed in hotels with known contamination issues. You shared food, water, probably a lot more than that. And you came home thinking I wouldn't notice. I didn't know, she sobbed.
I swear I didn't know about any of that. You knew you were lying to me. That was enough. She looked up, mascara streaking her cheeks. Are you divorcing me?
That depends, I said. On what the test show, on what the lawyers say, on a lot of things. I made a mistake. I was stupid. I was feeling unappreciated and he paid attention to me and I just Angela, I cut her off.
I don't care about your reasons. I care about the consequences. My phone buzz. A text from my CDC contact. Got your results early.
Call me when you can. It's not good. I held up the screen so Angela could see the preview. Her face went white. What does that mean?
She asked. It means, I said, standing up and walking toward my office, that you should probably call your own lawyer because this just became a lot more complicated. I closed the door behind me, leaving her alone with her panic. Tomorrow, the test results would arrive. Tomorrow, she'd understand exactly how badly she'd miscalculated.
Tomorrow, she'd realize that her 15 days of paradise had cost her everything. But today, right now, I had phone calls to make and documents to file. Because the thing about consequences is this. They don't care if you're sorry. The test results arrived via secure email at 7:00 in the morning.
I read them twice before Angela even woke up, sitting at my desk with coffee going cold beside me. Giardia Lamblia, drug resistance strain, active infection. Estimated exposure window matched her Peru dates exactly. Treatment required 12 weeks minimum with monitoring for chronic complications. The report also flagged elevated liver enzymes consistent with toxic exposure from contaminated water systems.
My own results, which I'd gotten tested as a precaution, came back clean. We hadn't been intimate since before her trip, something I'd engineered deliberately by claiming work exhaustion and sleeping in my office most nights. I forwarded both reports to my attorney with a single line. Documentation confirmed. Proceed with asset protection protocol.
When Angela finally came downstairs, she looked like she hadn't slept. She saw my face and stopped in the doorway. "You got them," she said. "Not a question. " I turned my laptop around so she could see the screen, watched her red through the medical terminology, watched her face collapse as the implications settled in. "I'm sick," she whispered.