Chapter 90

Mike slept through the alarm but was awakened by the sound of Annabelle tripping in the dark over the shoes she had left strewn on the floor the night before.

“Sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered.

Their eyes adjusted to the light as he switched on the bedside lamp.

“I can’t believe you’re going to work,” he said, squinting at her.

“What am I supposed to do, Mike?” she pleaded. “Yelena made it very clear last night that everyone was expected to be in today.”

“Everyone else has an anthrax-free office.”

“So? I’m supposed to stay home? I have no excuse. There’s nothing physically wrong with me.”

“You’re so sure of that?”

“If my swab had come back positive, I’d have heard about it. But if it will make you feel any better, I’ll call this morning and make sure.”

Mike was probably right. At the very least, she should reassure him. She should alleviate his worries as much as possible. He was doing better, and she didn’t want to upset that applecart.

“Yeah. It would make me feel better. And I think you should go for the Cipro too.”

Annabelle groaned. “That stuff’s no joke, Mike, and I don’t need headaches, nausea, and diarrhea.”

“Better that than anthrax poisoning, my love.”