Mokuba tries to cover up the truth, but Joan tells it.

Mokuba noticed the ashen look on Marc's face and tried to cover. "The one Joan and Michael are trying to have." Another tense second passed before he added, "But Seto and I are hoping to get lucky too."

Seto stared hard at Mokuba. The visions Joan had shared with him had come from Mokuba. Surely he knew. What was his game? Or was he having a brain fart?

"I don't understand," Laura said. "Hera is the goddess of motherhood. Why would she curse you?"

None of the men spoke.

Joan finally broke the silence. "For fuck's sake, Mokuba! All four of you got lucky and that's exactly Hera's problem. She said it was against the laws of nature or some bullshit for all four of you to father the same child. So the moment it's born, it's going to turn to dust before I even get to hold it."

"Lucky," Laura repeated, "so that's what you kids are calling it these days." Bitterness edged her voice. "Sounds about right."

"Honey . . ." Marc searched for more words but found none.

"Don't start. I already know I'm not good enough for you. My shriveled-up ovaries can't give you what you want."

"Sweetie . . ."

"You thought you could get away with this, didn't you? Your buddies were going to keep this all hush-hush. At least Joan had the guts to come clean. You boys are cowards."

"Darling . . ."

"I hope Hera curses your dick so it shrivels up and falls off. Now get out of here before I take matters into my own hands. Go."

Marc's line went dead, causing Mokuba and Michael's panel to go full screen. "Real smooth, Joan," Mokuba said. "What happened to telling him in person?"

Seto scowled. "That hag Hera happened. And apparently your precious menopausal narrative designer is on her side."

"Don't you dare talk about Laura that way," Mokuba snapped. "I respect her, and she has good reason to be upset."

"And we don't? Think about it, Mokuba. Mrs. Aurelio loses nothing from this. She probably never had two eggs to rub together in the first place. Marc, on the other hand, is facing his last chance at fatherhood."

"Laura lost faith in Marc. Don't you think that counts for something?"

"Whatever. If you want to tie their marriage back together, that's your pet project. We have our own issues to deal with."

Michael spoke up. "Woman, I think we should skip out on the Imagination of the Mind tournament and stay home."

"No," Joan said, "they're counting on us."

"This isn't some little regional tournament. They'll have enough extra volunteers to cover for us."

"But I need this. I need to be surrounded by more solutions than problems, even if they're not the solutions we're looking for."

"Then you should have said that in the first place."

"Male, I'm tired. The point is I'm going. You can join me, or you can sit on your ass."

"I'll join you, but Woman better get her sleep. Male don't want to deal with cranky Woman."

Joan sighed. "That's going to be hard after everything that's happened."

Seto interlaced his fingers with Joan's. "I'll handle it. Dinner. Bath. If necessary, we'll use the ring."

Mokuba's eyebrows shot up. "You're suggesting we actually use it now!?"

"That ring got us into this mess and it may be our only hope of getting out. We need to practice, test its limits, and form a plan."

"That's reasonable," Mokuba agreed. "OK, good luck."

Michael made heart hands for the camera, and Joan returned the sentiment by moving her index finger in and out of a hole formed by her other hand. They ended the call and, even with Tamara's silent presence, Joan felt comfortable speaking as if she and Seto were the only ones in the room. "Do you think I just fucked up with Marc and Laura?"

"You already know what I think."

"You were supportive and I appreciate that, but maybe Mokuba was right to only give them a half-truth."

"Whore, if Aurelio can't man up and face the consequences of his desires, he doesn't deserve you." Seto kissed her firmly, cementing his intention to hold himself to the same standard. "Now let's get out of here."