Genetic compatibility indicators.
And beside the date was something impossible.
The test had been performed five months before I met Thad.
My mouth went dry.
“What is that?”
“A histocompatibility screen.”
“I never had one.”
“You did.”
“No.”
Dr. Oay enlarged the document.
At the bottom appeared an authorization code connected to the Bromel Foundation Community Health Initiative.
I remembered the charity dinner.
Before the dinner, the foundation had sponsored free community health screenings.
Blood pressure.
Cholesterol.
Diabetes testing.
And a voluntary donor-awareness registry.
I had participated at a downtown health fair because my mother had recently died.
One vial of blood.
A clipboard.
A privacy form I had barely read.
My stomach turned.
“Thad knew.”
Dr. Oay nodded.
“Someone associated with the foundation accessed restricted genetic information illegally. We found a second internal search tied to Marisol’s credentials.”
I shut my eyes.
Five months before meeting me.
Before the coffee.
Before the flowers.
Before the proposal.
