THREE MONTHS LATER …
The World Junior Chess Championships took place inside the prestigious Marshall Chess Club in New York City. The four-story redbrick building on a leafy street in Manhattan housed the second-oldest chess club in the United States. In this building thirteen-year-old Bobby Fischer had defeated Donald Byrne in “The Game of the Century.” Adorning the walls in the high-ceilinged tournament hall were framed photographs of famous matches and players who had come and gone over the course of the club’s storied hundred-year history. Included among the thirty or so spectators who occupied folding chairs set up along the hall’s perimeter were Lee, Karen, Josh, Susie Banks, Valerie Cowart, the president, and the first lady.
Cam sat with the U.S. team, a tense look on his face. Everyone was sweating, and not just because the air-conditioners struggled to cool the room on a brutally hot August day. Taylor Gleason, who had taken Cam’s place on the U.S. team, was presently engaged in a tense match against a sixteen-year-old boy from Belarus, who was known as an aggressive player.
It was incredibly difficult and emotional for Cam to withdraw from the tournament. The decision he made showed not only tremendous maturity, but also acceptance of his disease, his limitations.
To stay involved, Cam turned to coaching. He and Taylor worked together for hours on end, forging strategies, practicing complex moves. With Cam’s guidance, Taylor’s game had improved remarkably, but nobody could have predicted this level of success.
Taylor was playing for more than just the tournament win. He was playing for redemption. His disgraced father had had the murder charges dropped, but was still facing prison time for his ProNeural scheme. As much as Cam had showed his maturity by backing out of the tournament, Taylor had demonstrated inspiring grit and resilience.
Much of the game Taylor spent shoring up his weaknesses. He repulsed many of the speculative attacks with defensive moves, but according to the president’s running commentary, that was not enough. His opponent simply regrouped and tried again, creating space on the board while waiting for Taylor to make a mistake. To win, Taylor had to counterattack, pursue vigorously, and create counterthreats of his own. Cam had drilled Taylor on this tactic. The president insisted it was time to put that strategy into action.
“This is just like boxing,” the president told Lee. “Everyone has a plan until he gets punched in the mouth.”
Taylor was looking increasingly anxious, and it was understandable. A victory or draw here would give him enough points to claim the tournament title. His opponent moved his knight to f6, trying to control the center of the board. But Taylor countered, moving his rook to e3, supporting his pawn on e4. Cam gave a subtle thumbs-up sign, clearly approving.
Lee did not understand the strategy, but a projector displayed the game onto a large screen so at least he could follow the action.
Susie sat next to Josh, her hands clasped tightly in his in nervous anticipation. She was still adapting to her new reality as well, playing themes on her violin instead of full pieces as she battled her depleted concentration and memory loss. Her myoclonus could be controlled somewhat with medication, but she still needed to be on dialysis. Her organs were still growing larger. Josh had been her rock, a steady presence in her life despite her declining health.
“You don’t get to pick only the good parts of the people you love,” Josh had said to Lee. “You get the whole package, and I’m fine with that.”
Susie was everything that Hannah was not. She was affectionate and adoring. What she could not be was healthy. Without a cure, she would die, and so would Cam. Valerie had been looking after Susie these days, and the two had grown close. In many ways, Valerie was as much a surrogate mother as she was Susie’s caregiver.
Over the course of the match Susie and Cam locked eyes frequently, speaking some unspoken language. In the months since the terrible truth came out, the two had grown extremely close, which made sense given they were half siblings who shared a tragic bond.
The game continued. Taylor took his opponent’s pawn with his pawn to d6, but his opponent countered, moving his rook to c6 in what turned into an exchange of material.
“Taylor needs to cramp this guy’s style, force him to defend the pawn in the center of the board, not exchange material.”
The president sounded exasperated. Lee nodded his agreement but was incapable of visualizing the game to Hilliard’s extent. Karen looked on in rapt attention. Normally she’d be on duty, but it was Woody Lapham leading the team keeping the president and first family safe during the tournament. For the first time in Lee’s memory, Karen did not seem to be missing the action. She was happy to be a spectator. Hell, she was happy to be alive.
Physically Lee was relatively fine, his shoulder throbbing only intermittently, but it was the emotional strain that had contributed most significantly to his suffering. He blamed himself not only for Paul’s death, but for Yoshi’s as well.
Yoshi, like Paul, was an innocent in all of this. He took his own life because Lee had shamed him, exposed him as a fraud. While Yoshi’s methods were clearly misguided, his intentions all along were ultimately good.
But it was Paul that kept Lee up at night. The guilt he felt pulsed more painfully than his bullet wound. Lying awake in the darkness, Lee kept seeing his friend’s face, hearing his voice, aching for a different outcome.
He would never stop blaming himself for Paul’s death, so he did what he felt he had to do. He sold his practice to the MDC. He did not do it for the money or to honor Paul’s wishes. He sold it because he could no longer practice without him. He and Paul were in a marriage of sorts, and the business simply felt empty with him gone.
It was heartbreaking to let the business go, to sell off a final link to his father, to give up on family medicine, but it paled compared to the suffering of Paul’s family. But in a way it was also freeing. It gave Lee time to concentrate on his new life’s mission: saving Susie and Cam.
At the moment there was no cure for what they had. Twice during the tournament, Cam’s myoclonus had struck without warning, sending his arms into spasm. Lee would have to live with lingering guilt, but Cam and Susie had to live with something far worse: a progressive, genetic disease.
But there was hope.
The process Hewitt had used to engineer the gene augmentation could potentially be reversed into a new therapy. CRISPR technology had advanced greatly since Hewitt had pioneered a rudimentary technique from the shadows. Advancements now offered the possibility of precisely directed gene therapy that not only might cure Susie and Cam, and the other two surviving children Hewitt had fathered, but could someday treat a host of terrible diseases. As with all science, though, its potential for abuse would never disappear. New Hewitts might always emerge.
The president would fund the research and development using his personal wealth, as well as future money he would make on the speaking circuit, opening a new battlefront in the ongoing war against genetic disease.
President Hilliard had appointed Lee as program director, and his first act in his new role was to hire Dr. Ruth Kaufmann to lead the research teams. The future of gene therapy had yet to be defined, but Lee had tremendous faith in Dr. Kaufmann’s leadership and her abilities. Their efforts by no means guaranteed a cure, but they did offer hope, and that was the next best thing.
Taylor moved his knight to g8, and about half the room gasped, while Cam leapt from his seat like there’d been a buzzer-beater basket. The other half of the room, Lee included, had no clue what had happened.
“I think he just forced the game into a draw,” the president said, pumping his fist in victory. A draw was worth half a point for each player, but Taylor’s total points would give him the tournament title. Even though their roles had been reversed, Cam concentrated on the game as if he were the one playing in the finals, and in a way he was. Without Cam as the catalyst, without his tutelage, Taylor would never have made it this far.
Lee’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. The two-word message filled him with joy.
I accept.
Now it was Lee who pumped his fist in a quiet show of victory. Lee was committed to reopening the TPI to honor Yoshi’s memory and mission. With the help of involved parents, Lee had raised several hundred thousand dollars toward that goal. Fundraising would be an ongoing effort, and for that, they needed a new director. Ellen had used her contacts to find the perfect person. Her name was Nozomi Arakida, a Japanese woman who had studied at the TPI under Yoshi and who had gone on to found a similar school in St. Louis. It was Nozomi who had texted Lee, accepting his offer to take over the Washington school, extending her brand’s reach in the process. In a strange way, Hewitt’s dream of ushering forth a new golden age of culture and learning had taken a small step toward becoming a reality.
The game continued. Taylor forced his opponent to trade off queens. Lee saw now what others saw earlier as the inevitable outcome. Black did not have enough material to get to checkmate. The game ended in a draw. In a way, it was a fitting conclusion. There was no clear victor, but it was a clear victory nonetheless.
Thunderous applause shook the room. Taylor stood shakily and waved to the crowd. His smile was broad and beaming, eyes elated. Cam and Taylor shared an embrace. They broke apart, and while holding hands, raised their arms overhead in shared triumph. Everyone knew they had won as a team.
The rest of the U.S. team soon swallowed Taylor and Cam in a large group hug. Cam slipped away from the huddled masses as Susie rushed the floor. Nobody in the Secret Service moved as she neared him. They knew how important she was to Cam and Cam to her. They hugged tightly. Then Cam raced over to his parents. He threw his arms around his mother and held her as she gave him a kiss on the forehead. Tears filled her eyes. Cam broke away and approached the president.
The president wiped his tear-lined eyes, opened his arms, and pulled Cam into a tight embrace. He pulled his lips tight, straining against raw emotion. “I’m so proud of you, son,” he said. “I’m so proud.”
Son.
It did not matter what Hewitt had done to this family. Cam was Geoffrey’s son regardless, his pride and joy. His boy. The first family gathered in a huddle, bodies leaning forward, foreheads pressed tightly together in an unbroken circle.
Lee watched, his heart swelling with joy.
Josh put an arm around Lee. “Pretty awesome, Dad,” he said.
Karen came over and stood beside them.
“Yeah, pretty awesome,” Lee said in a quiet voice.
Valerie and Susie had joined the first family in their victory celebration. All were talking excitedly.
“I got something else that’s pretty awesome,” Josh said. He handed a piece of paper to Lee, who read it before handing it to Karen.
“You’ve applied for the Secret Service?”
Karen’s voice rose sharply. She put a hand to her chest, looking as excited as Cam post-victory.
“Hey, I need a job, right?” Josh said. “Can’t think of a better place to work or a better person to work for.” Josh winked at his mom.
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” Karen said, laughing as she stifled a cry.
Lee, Josh, and Karen huddled together, touching foreheads just like the first family had done. Eventually, the two families converged, forming a larger group huddle, with Susie and Valerie joining as well.
Strange as it was, a peaceful feeling washed over Lee. He knew everyone would soon go separate ways. Josh and Susie’s relationship would either blossom or wither, while Josh and Karen would become closer working together for the Secret Service. Susie would continue to play music, follow her dreams. Valerie would take a nursing job at the MDC and still care for Susie and Cam as needed. Ellen and Geoffrey would spend their last year in the White House working to raise money for the genetic research initiative. Lee would go to work for the president and first lady, committed to finding a cure for the survivors. Everyone would be involved in something new, but they would have an unbreakable connection for years to come.
In that way, they had all become family.