Christopher Grayston was tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so drained. A wife, carrying a child who might be his brother. He was so drunk, and now he had to call Henry to come and check on her since she had fainted. He chuckled to himself. The last time he was this tired, he was probably in his early twenties and had consumed copious amounts of liquor in a Bourbon Street nightclub. He looked at Claudia and thought, “I really don’t have the energy.”

He pulled up his phone and called one of his best friends, Henry, to come to his house. Henry was a family doctor,...