"Okay, Mommy. Daddy will stay with me," Evelyn replied dutifully.


    Eleanor turned and walked away, needing some space to sort through her jumbled thoughts.


    "Daddy, why did your hair turn white all of a sudden?" Evelyn asked with innocent curiosity.


    "I guess Daddy has just been thinking a little too muchtely,"n answered in a rxed tone.


    "No matter what, Daddy, I''ll always love you," Evelyn dered loudly.


    He knelt and kissed her cheek. "You''re my precious girl."


    Just then, Joslyn came out of the kitchen with a bowl of soup. She caught sight ofn under the light and froze for a few seconds. She didn''t say anything, but a wave of sympathy washed over her before she returned to the kitchen.


    Evelyn went off to y, leavingn standing on the balcony. The night breeze rustled his hair as he looked out with a strange sense of calm. He epted the change in himself without resistance, almost with a sense of wee, as if the streaks of gray were a badge of honor, a testament to something significant.


    That evening, Joslyn prepared a simple, light dinner. As she was cleaning up in the kitchen, she nced over at the dining table and saw the three of them sitting together like a family. A pang of hope filled her. Could scenes like this be moremon in the future?


    At the table, Evelyn finished her meal, and Eleanor had some soup. Ian checked the time and said to her, "I''ll take Evelyn downstairs. You should get some rest."


    "No, it''s fine. I sleep better when she''s with me," Eleanor said, keeping their daughter with her.


    Eleanor didn''t answer, simply saying, "You should get some rest, too."


    And no love.


    There wasn''t even resentment or the cold distance she used to maintain. It was a profound cidity, an indifference so deep that nothing he did or said could stir her emotions.


    Hate, at least


    would have meant she


    still cared. This utter apathy was a silent deration: *I don''t hate you but I don''t care about you either. To her, be was just an consequential stranger she treated with polite courtesy, their only connection the shared responsibility for their daughter.


    The realization maden''s throat


    tighten. He turned and walked out,


    avoiding the cid gaze that


    followed him. As he closed the door, however, he did so with a soft, controlled click.


    On the sofa, Eleanor was on the phone with Dr. Smith, her work never far from her mind, nor was Serena''s ongoing trial.


    "Miss Goodwin is stable. El, the theory you proposed is very sound. We should explore it from multiple angles."


    "Doctor, I found the answer. The golden antibody produced by direct rtives stimtes a much stronger immune response than Vanessa''s."


    "What? You seeded?" Dr. Smith''s excited voice came through the line.


    Eleanor looked down and smiled, her voice filled with certainty. "Yes. I''ve found the other key."