Free The Eve Genome by Joanne Brothwell

stronger in the original mitochondrion. A theory we would like to test out.”
    “The Endosymbiotic Theory is highly disputed,” Dr. Bomer had finished.
    I tried to find another site, but the only thing I could find based on the endosymtiotic theory was a video game about a parasitic evil superwoman. I glanced at my watch and shut down my computer. I’d have to finish my research later.
    I rolled up to grandma’s care home where my mom was waiting for me just inside the entry. The home was named The Legion. It was a brown brick structure with nicely maintained yard space where several weeping willows that had lost their leaves. The gnarled, bowing trees created a canopy overhead, with one small apple tree beneath them.  Rotten apples spotted the ground around the miniature tree, and as we got closer, I saw there was still one overripe apple left on the tree.
    “Hi, Mom,” I said. My mouth felt twitchy with the news about Analiese’s missing body, but I kept it shut.
    “Hi, dear.”
    I felt a pang of guilt for not visiting in so long. It was increasingly difficult to visit, ever since grandma had begun losing her short-term memory. The first time she’d forgotten my name was the worst, like a butter knife to the ribs. But now with Analiese gone, I had a whole new appreciation of family because I knew they could be wrenched from my fingertips at any moment.
    Grandma Marion and Aunt Bethany were all we had left of Mom’s side of the family. Mom’s dad was dead, having died on a construction site when Mom was three years old. They were older parents when they had her, both in their mid-forties, and mom was their only child. Now, Grandma, Bethany, me and Mom were the only ones left.
    Aunt Bethany was grandma’s baby sister. She’d been a source of entertainment for years with her exaggerated innocence and dry wit. Dad always referred to her as a ‘spinster’ on account of the fact that she never married. The seventy-five year-old lived in Stonewood, and was still spry and active in her senior’s community, as far as I knew.
    A few steps in and we were at Grandma Marion’s door. I knocked three times, hoping she would remember we were coming and be dressed appropriately, or… at least dressed.
    She answered the door and her face drew up into a big smile I hoped was recognition.
    “Hello my dears!” she said, hugging us. “Come in.”
    I exchanged a glance with Mom as we stepped into the small room Grandma called home. All that was left of the personal belongings of her life she shared with Grandpa was the intricately carved antique jewellery chest and two flowery blue sofas. Aunt Bethany was already seated in the living room. She reached out to greet us, since her hips prevented her from getting up off the couch without pain. “Hello!”
    We greeted Aunt Bethany with hugs and kisses and sat down next to her on the sofa, Grandma joining us in the chair across the living area. Bethany was a slightly younger version of Grandma, with slightly darker hair, her complexion a tiny bit rosier.
    “I’m so happy you could come today,” Grandma said. “I’ve been thinking it must be time for you to visit.” Grandma’s mossy blue-green eyes were still as bright as ever. Her hair was grey along the sides, but the top and back were darker, the length of her hair tied up into a neat bun at the back of her head. No matter who or what she forgot in her life, be it her grandchildren or her boiling tea kettle, she somehow always remembered to wear her hair in a bun.
    “I’ve been thinking so too, Grandma,” I said. “How are you?” Would she even remember Analiese’s death?
    Grandma smiled. “Just fine, dear. Just fine.” Obviously she’d forgotten about Analiese altogether. She turned to Mom. “And you?”
    “We’re both doing well,” Mom said perfunctorily. Clearly she wasn’t going to bring up Analiese and experience the fallout from the entire discussion. “We came to talk to you both about something