Dr. Oay turned the monitor until the glowing green histocompatibility matrix filled Thad’s bulging eyes:
“…is because your mother’s biological profile is not compatible with standard European lineages.”
“Adelaide Vance-Bromel is a collateral descendant of the Sterling estate.”
“Her blood requires a direct biological lineal match from the original **1944 Mercer Admiralty Charter**.”
“A match that exists in only one living human being in the state of Georgia.”
Dr. Oay stepped back, pointing her finger toward me as I walked through the executive office doorway:
“Your wife.”
“The woman you just handed an executed divorce decree.”
“The woman whose locks you ordered changed by noon.”
Thad’s face went from pale to an apocalyptic, curdled shade of un-cured limestone.
His pupils dilated until the gray of his irises vanished completely into black.
His mouth worked in dry, spastic, un-coordinated clicks:
*k-k-k.*
“No…” Thad wheezed, his fingers clawing at the mahogany desk edge until his nails cracked:
