§ § § -- February 13, 1999

Just a few minutes later Rogan and Julie barreled into the house and attacked a startled but laughing Roarke, both noisy with delight over his complete recovery. Once he'd fended them off, he arose from his chair and regarded all three of them. "Since you're all here, you can fill me in on the long story at which Leslie hinted last night," he said. "Mariki is in the midst of preparing breakfast, and if I know her, she'll be making up for what Leslie and I didn't or couldn't eat over the past several weeks."

"So, instead of making enough for six, she'll make enough for twenty," Leslie added dryly, and Rogan and Julie both chortled.

"If that's an invitation to stay for breakfast, then we gladly accept," Rogan said. "Ah, uncle, it's very good to see you back to normal. I wasn't quite ready to step into your shoes if you were to pass on, and needless to say, Leslie would have gone ballistic."

Roarke grinned. "Very well; since I'm finished here, why don't we go out to the table and wait for Mariki to bring out the serving cart. My curiosity is sorely piqued."

Over the predicted gargantuan breakfast, Rogan and Leslie got Roarke up to speed on everything that had occurred the previous day, with Julie throwing in her two cents here and there. Leslie's voice was just perceptibly less animated than Rogan's, though, and he, Roarke and Julie all noticed it. However, they waited till Roarke had the entire story before Rogan filled a lull by asking, "Why the long face, Leslie? Everything's right with the world again. Or at least, everything's right with the island."

Leslie focused on him in guilty surprise. Roarke said gently, "Have you told Christian, sweetheart?"

She nodded glumly. "In as few words as possible."

"Christian?" Rogan repeated. "Seems to me there's something going on here that I don't know about. I hope I'm not prying if I ask to be let in on the secret."

"Oh, it's no secret," Roarke assured him and proceeded to explain to him who Christian was, his relationship with Leslie, and their ongoing forced separation, as well as the reasons for it. "Marina, Christian's wife, is the younger sister of the late Paola," he concluded, "and like Paola, she has the bone-eating disease. Though she had asked Leslie to wait for Christian, this was before anyone was aware of a cure. Now that the knowledge is out, Marina's request essentially becomes null and void."

"Are you sure, uncle?" Julie asked. "I mean, how long have Marina and her father had the disease? Isn't there some point beyond which the cure doesn't do any good?"

"There is, because Da told me that Paola was too far gone for the cure to help her. Do you know how long Marina and her father have been ill, Leslie?" Rogan asked.

"Actually I'm not sure," Leslie said. "I know it's been years in both cases, but I can't remember how many. When we're finished I'll e-mail Christian and ask."

Another half hour passed before the foursome decided they had had their fill and rose from the table. In the study, Roarke, Julie and Rogan watched while Leslie brought up the e-mail account again and found a reply from Christian. She chuckled sadly after reading it. "He mentioned that Marina still thinks she doesn't deserve the cure because of what Paola did to Father," she said, "and that's about it."

"She sounds like she wants to die," Julie said, wrinkling her nose.

"She's a little hysterical, from the way Christian talks," Leslie said and brought up a reply screen, quickly typing out her query about how long Marina and the count had been afflicted with the bone-eating disease. Sending the message, she fell back in the chair and looked up at the others. "I'm almost afraid of the reply," she admitted.

"What a stupid situation," Julie said disgustedly. "If I had the MacNabb magic—"

"I would forbid you from using it," Roarke broke in neatly, his voice stern but his eyes alight. "Your motives are highly commendable, Julie, but your interference is not. In any event, even if you did have the MacNabb magic, it would be inapplicable to a situation of this magnitude. It's beyond anyone's ability to influence, including my own."

"Well, it was a nice idea," Leslie said with a small smile. "Thanks, Julie."

A couple of minutes later they heard the computer beep, and Leslie checked the account and opened the latest message from Christian. "He says," she reported, "that Marina's had the disease for about eight years, and her father's been afflicted for around 20 or so. He says the count's been bedridden for awhile now."

"Well?" Julie prodded her fiancé hopefully.

Rogan cleared his throat and said, "I'm not sure whether this is good news or bad, given the circumstances. But both Marina and the count will benefit from the cure: once a patient has had the disease for twenty-five years or more, the bones have deteriorated past the point where they can be mended properly. Marina will survive easily, and the count should make a full recovery as well."

Leslie stared sightlessly at the computer screen; after a few seconds her tears ran over. Roarke stroked her hair, and Rogan hung his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight uneasily. "I'm sorry, Leslie," he said helplessly.

"I shouldn't be crying," Leslie said savagely, angry at herself. "It's horrible of me to react like this. I should be glad they can be cured. And yet…" She fell silent, letting the tears have their way.

Silence met her words; for once even Roarke had no idea what to tell her. He could only stand by and offer the solace of a human touch, while Rogan and Julie sadly looked on.