The Children Who Time Lost (13 page)

Angela rose, but I stopped her. “I need you to do something for me.”

She looked at me dumbfounded. “Can it wait?”

I shook my head. “I need it or I can’t go out there. Please.”

She knelt again and looked at Sammy. “Leave us.”

Sammy frowned. “But her makeup.”

“I’ll take care of her makeup. Now go.”

Sammy quickly walked out.

Angela faced me again. “What is it?”

“I need my doctor. I need Dr. Jarrod Conway.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not. Ever since I stopped the programs, I’ve been having all kinds of things going on in my body. I need my medication.”

“Wait there.” Angela stood and pulled her cell phone out. It looked no bigger than a fountain pen before she clicked the tip. A clear panel then flipped to the side and she pressed buttons on what looked like a thin layer of glass. The pad disappeared seconds later. She put the cell back into her pocket and walked toward the door. Her words then carried wirelessly to the mouthpiece of the phone, as if it were right beside her mouth. She had an advanced model. Most people had to use small headsets in order to speak, but I guessed Lotto personnel had all the most advanced gadgets.

I didn’t hear any of her conversation, but the smile on her face when she returned looked promising.

“It’s your lucky day,” she said. “It so happens that Jarrod is one of your many fans out there. A Lypso has found him. He has your medication.”

I sighed and looked at the ceiling. The lights changed color the more I stared at them. Green, blue, amber and back to green. I couldn’t believe Jarrod was so close. He’d always been around whenever I needed him. I just couldn’t understand how Warren could say those things about him.

I faced Angela with a smile. She knelt beside me and held my face up. “Now, we need to finish with this makeup. Jarrod will meet us on set.”

The flashing lights made me dizzy, but Dylan stayed still in my arms and didn’t make a sound. The floating seat I sat on was so comfortable I might as well have been lying down. John Nicholas paced behind me, ruffling his bright blond hair from time to time. He was probably the most famous male chat-show host in the world. Along with his Nigerian wife, Carrie, they had probably interviewed every A-list celebrity, although her star was much bigger than his.

I felt Dylan move and looked at him. He laughed when he caught my gaze. Then he threw his hands and feet everywhere. I played with his hair and his laughter soared.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?”

I looked up to see Carrie crouched in front of me, admiring Dylan. Her chocolate skin and long dark hair went well with her gray suit. I felt a slight chill in my stomach. I was only inches from Carrie Nicholas. People might have called me a celebrity, but she was the true meaning of the word.

“He’s my world,” I said finally.

She placed both hands against her chest before using her little finger to tug at his hands. He laughed and so did she. I couldn’t shake the fact that I might just have gotten the perfect baby.

“Rachel,” I heard someone say. I turned to see Angela gesturing for me to come over.

I stood up and held Dylan toward Carrie. “Do you mind?”

“It will be my absolute pleasure.”

I handed Dylan to her and walked over to Angela. She put her arm around my waist and led me toward the corridor.

“Where are we going?”

She didn’t answer but continued walking past a few armed fifth-generation Lypsos and men and women who worked in the studio. She stopped by a large red door and pushed it open. She moved to the side and stood still. I peered in and saw only four white walls. No furniture whatsoever. I glanced at her and she gestured for me to enter.
What’s going on?

Against my better judgment, I walked in. Jarrod was standing in the corner, against the wall, with his arms folded.

“Jarrod?”

He nodded at Angela, who shut the door. Then he stepped forward. “Hi, Rachel.”

“Why the secrecy?”

“Members of the public really shouldn’t have access to Lotto winners after they get back. Not until after they’ve been interviewed and then psychoanalyzed. You know that.”

“Then how did you get in here?”

He stood a few inches from me and caressed my hair. I frowned at him and shrugged. He backed away and folded his arms.

“Come on, Rachel,” he said. “You know how important you are. You’re special. For God’s sake, you’re now the poster girl for the Worldwide Lotto. Your story is a fairy tale. Of course they’ll do whatever they can to make sure you’re okay. It’s just that the world can’t know this. They can’t know about the torment you’re going through.”

I nodded, but without warning my right hand shook violently. I tried to stop it, but it became so painful I wanted to scream. He held my hand and squeezed it. It didn’t make a difference, and he tightened his grip. Then he used his other hand. I calmed myself after taking long, deep breaths per his advice.

I looked up at him. “Did you bring it?”

“What do you think?” He walked back to the corner of the room and pulled a large bottle out of a brown leather bag; it contained at least a thousand milliliters. I squinted when I noticed that the liquid inside was an unfamiliar purple. He put it in my hand and smiled.

“What’s this? A new drug?”

“Of course,” he said. “You don’t think the government pays us all that money to keep using the same drugs, do you? This is the next level of treatment. This one can be diluted. It can last weeks, and if you’re careful with it, maybe even months. You won’t need to see me for regular dosages anymore, Rachel. With this, you can spend more time with your family and less time in the clinic.”

Excitement filled me for a moment, but I caught myself. This development was too abrupt. He hadn’t mentioned it during our last meeting.
Was Warren right? Is he really using me as a guinea pig?
“This has been tested, right?”

He frowned but didn’t reply.

“On humans, I mean, not just animals.”

He scowled at me and walked back to the corner. After turning around with anger in his eyes, he raised his voice. “What kind of immoral man do you take me for?”

I didn’t answer. I felt so embarrassed and regretted asking.
He did come all this way to support me. And he has the only thing that can make me go out there.

“Seriously, Rachel,” he continued. “Do you think so little of me that you think I’d use you as a test bank? After everything we’ve been through together?”

“I’m so sorry. I just—”

“It’s Warren, isn’t it?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he’s always hated me. Ever since the government cut his budget and left mine intact, he’s held a grudge.” He rushed toward me and grabbed my shoulders. It hurt at first, but he quickly eased his grip. “Listen to me, Rachel. You’re special. More than you could possibly imagine. The world needs to understand you if we’re to ever find a cure for infertility. Warren wants you all to himself.”

He pulled away and backed toward the far wall, facing me as he did. “Don’t you get it? Studying you could lead to great things. If we do find the reason you gave birth when no one else could, we’ll be on our way to reversing the problem. Warren knows that, which is why he wants you to leave me. He wants the glory.”

“And what do you want?”

He shook his head and looked at the floor. “Again, I can’t believe you can even ask me that.” He wiped sweat from the top of his nose and walked past me. He tapped the door twice with his knuckles before turning around.

We stared at each other in silence before a stocky man walked in with a glass of water. Angela stood a few feet behind him, anxiety on her face. Jarrod took the glass from the man, walked up to me and took the bottle from my hand. After opening it, he poured a teaspoon’s worth into the glass. The water turned a dark shade of purple. He handed me the glass and the bottle. “This should sort you out.” He opened the door and started to walk out.

“I’m so sorry for doubting you,” I said.

“You never have to apologize to me.” He turned around and smiled at me. “Now go out there and give them a show.”

I smiled and gulped the water down.

Chapter Eleven

T
he applause had been going on for almost two minutes when Carrie raised her hands, asking for calm. She smiled at me when we shared a gaze, which was nice. She had done everything to ensure I felt at home the entire time, even massaging my right hand every time she noticed it twitching. I couldn’t say the same for her co-host and husband, though. When he wasn’t on his cell, he pouted like a cheerleader who had lost her pom-poms.

Sitting between the power couple was like a dream in itself. I just feared the questions they would ask me and whether the answers would be sufficient for the world. I’d read on the Internet that winners were typically not allowed to speak from scripts like the interviewers were. Some countries did allow a full speech to be written beforehand and then just repeated in front of the camera. But not Carrie Nicholas. She didn’t get her reputation as the world’s number one talk-show host for artificial emotions. But then again, it could all have been hearsay.

The studio was now silent and Carrie spoke into the many cameras in front of us. I couldn’t hear much of what she said. I thought only of walking through the front door of my home with Dylan. I heard movement to my left and saw John adjusting his floating seat forward. It was time for him to speak.
Moody man
. I paid attention to everything he said.

“Thank you, Carrie,” he said to his wife before facing the screen again, his seat about a foot from mine. “I’m John Nicholas, and today we are witnessing something special. Seated beside me”—he glanced in my direction and smiled—“is someone many of you already know. Her body was the only one to fight this terrible curse that has consumed women everywhere. She gave birth to a child the way nature intended. Of course, we also know the tragedy that took place only last year.”

He turned around fully this time and looked at me for almost five seconds with what looked like sorrow and pity. I didn’t buy it for a second. The man was as cold as a Lypso. He’d probably even have given Porsche from the future a run for her money.

“But we don’t need to dwell on that,” he said after his awkward pause, “for Rachel Harris is back on our screens, and this time to share her good news. She’s to be a mother again.” He nodded toward his wife. Carrie pressed a button underneath her seat, which glided forward.

“That’s right,” Carrie said in as authoritative a voice as I’d heard from anyone on TV. I always loved hearing her speak. “Rachel Harris is celebrating today. Her first attempt at the Worldwide Lotto has resulted in success.” She smiled at me before continuing. “She’s the proud mother of a baby boy, Dylan.” She rested her gaze on Dylan and nodded at me. I immediately understood.

I lifted Dylan a few inches—still not directly in front of the cameras. He smiled at me and flung his arms wildly. Then I stood and hoisted him up, turning him around to face the world. The crowd erupted in applause and the flashing lights came in thick and fast. I squinted and eased Dylan back into my arms. Carrie and John stood on either side of me. I caught glimpses of their broad smiles.

Dylan was still laughing and throwing his arms everywhere. I wondered if he ever actually cried. I introduced a smile of my own and looked straight toward the camera, imagining it was only Kevin who could see me. I had gotten past the first phase of the interview and still hadn’t fainted.
I’ll be all right.