They’d played football badly together in college and had spent the last fifteen years pretending not to be getting old. “Tell me this isn’t business-related,” Adrian said. “It’s not.” A pause. “That’s somehow worse.” Jack looked toward the kitchen. Rosalind’s mug was still in the sink. “I need a favor,” he said. There was silence on the other end for a second.
Then Adrian said, more seriously, “What kind of favor?” Jack kept it simple. Not all of it. Just enough. A DNA comparison. Quietly done. No paperwork unless it had to become paperwork. When he finished, Adrian didn’t speak immediately. Then: “Jack…” “I know.” “This is a bad idea.” “I know.” Another pause. Then, reluctantly: “Do you have both samples?” “Yeah.”