“What’s the secret ingredient?”

“Love?”

“Magic?”

Castor smiled as his memory moved through the days before it all went horribly wrong for a few, even as hope remained for everyone else. A few moments before, he had been sitting stiffly on his lab stool hunched over a microscope. But the alarm on his phone had sounded, a jaunty jazz number that reminded him of happier days.

The secret ingredient in the biomaterial that had been used to treat, to cure, to advance the five volunteers lying in one of the most advanced burn wards in the world, was neither love nor magic. But anyone might have thought so, the way the stuff brought those folks back to life.

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