“Evan contacted us.”
The traffic noise seemed to disappear.
“What?”
“Eight months ago.”
I stared at them.
“What do you mean contacted you?”
“Email,” Noah said.
“Eight months?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“We weren't sure it was really him.”
“Then?”
“We verified it.”
“How exactly do seventeen-year-olds verify a stranger claiming to be their half-brother?”
Noah gave me a look.
“You really don't want the technical version.”
“I absolutely do.”
Nathan cleared his throat.
“Public coding repository.
School competition records.
Digital signatures.”
I stared harder.
“No illegal hacking?”
“No.”
“Define illegal.”
“Mom.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“What did Evan want?”
Neither answered immediately.
Finally Noah said:
“He wanted to know whether you still had your graduate research.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
