Chapter 23 Turn It Against Me
A knock on the door woke her.
Sunlight was pouring through the window. She had slept. She did not remember falling asleep, but she had slept. Her body felt heavy and her throat still hurt.
"Mrs. Thorne?" A maid’s voice. Soft. Urgent. "The test results have arrived. They’re asking for you downstairs."
Veyra sat up. Her heart jumped.
The test results.
She had been waiting for this moment. Dreading it. Longing for it. Everything came down to what was in that folder.
"I’ll be down soon," she said.
The maid’s footsteps retreated.
Veyra stood up. She walked to the mirror. Her hair was a mess. Her face was pale. The bruise on her throat had darkened overnight. She looked like she had been in a fight.
She had been in a fight.
She splashed water on her face. Brushed her hair with her fingers. Put on the same green dress because it was the only nice thing she had.
She was ready.
She opened the door.
Dorian was standing in the hallway.
He was already dressed. Dark suit. White shirt. His hair was neat. His gray eyes were sharp. He looked like he had been awake for hours.
"You’re up," he said.
"You’re here."
"I came to get you." He paused. "The results are in. Dr. Harrison is waiting."
She nodded. She walked past him toward the stairs. He fell into step beside her.
They did not speak.
The stairs seemed longer than she remembered. Each step felt heavy. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
She stopped halfway down.
"Dorian," she said.
He stopped. Turned to look at her.
"Why did you agree to the divorce?" she asked. "Back in the living room. When your grandmother said you would have to divorce me if I was lying. You agreed so quickly. So easily."
He was quiet for a moment.
"Because I trust you," he said.
She stared at him.
"I trust your judgment," he said. "I don’t know you. Not really. But I’ve watched you. The way you saved my grandmother without hesitation. You’re not a liar, Veyra. You’re not a fraud. I know that."
Her throat tightened.
"You choked me," she said.
"I know." His voice was quiet. "And I was wrong. But that doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. It means I was scared."
She looked at him for a long moment.
No one had ever said that to her before. No one had ever trusted her unconditionally. Caspian had doubted her every word. The world had told her she was nothing.
And now this man and this stranger came along and he trusted her.
She turned and walked down the stairs. Her eyes were burning. She blinked the tears away.
She would not cry. Not now. Not in front of them.
Behind her, she heard Dorian’s footsteps. She did not look back.
But at the bottom of the stairs, just before she turned toward the living room, she glanced over her shoulder.
Dorian was watching her. His gray eyes were soft. And the corners of his lips were curled upward in a smile so subtle it was almost imperceptible.
She turned away.
But she carried that smile with her into the living room.
The living room was full.
Celeste was there. Marcus was there. Eleanor and Richard were there. The old woman was in her chair by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes sharp and watching.
Dr. Harrison stood in the center of the room. He held a folder in his hands. His face was serious.
Eleanor saw Veyra first.
"Well," Eleanor said. Her voice was loud. "The high school dropout finally decides to join us."
Veyra did not respond. She walked to the center of the room and stood facing Dr. Harrison.
"Let’s get this over with," Veyra said.
Eleanor laughed. "Nervous? You should be. Everyone knows you didn’t make that serum. A woman like you? With your education? Please."
Veyra turned to look at her.
"A woman like me," Veyra said slowly. "What exactly is a woman like me?"
Eleanor’s smile was sharp. "You dropped out of high school. You’ve never had a real job. You married a man for his money. You’re nothing. You’ve always been nothing. And now you’re pretending to be a scientist?"
Veyra’s hands were steady. "I never pretended to be a scientist."
"No?" Eleanor tilted her head. "Then what do you call carrying around homemade potions and claiming you developed them yourself? That’s pretending. That’s lying. That’s—"
"I call it surviving." Veyra’s voice was calm. "I call it teaching myself medicine because my grandmother died of something that could have been treated. I call it spending three years in a cramped apartment reading textbooks while my husband was out spending million dollars on his mistress. I call it doing what I had to do to make sure no one else I loved died because no one knew what to look for."
The room was quiet.
Eleanor’s smile faltered. "That’s a nice story. But stories don’t make you a doctor."
"No," Veyra said. "They don’t. But the test results will speak for themselves."
She turned back to Dr. Harrison.
"Please," she said. "Read the results."
Dr. Harrison opened the folder.
The room went silent. Everyone leaned forward. Even the old woman sat up straighter in her chair.
"The serum you provided," Dr. Harrison said, "is not a commercially manufactured product."
Eleanor’s face went pale.
"There are no preservatives," Dr. Harrison continued. "No stabilizers. No batch number. No manufacturer’s label. The pH is inconsistent with any commercial formulation I have ever seen."
He looked up from the folder.
"This serum was developed privately. By an individual. Not by a pharmaceutical company."
Veyra’s heart soared. She kept her face calm.
"The purity of the compound," Dr. Harrison said, "is exceptional. Ninety-eight point seven percent. Most commercial formulations hover around ninety-five percent. The formulation concept is also highly unique. The addition of a potassium channel blocker to extend the half-life of the magnesium sulfate is something I have never encountered before."
He closed the folder.
"This is not the work of an amateur," he said. "This is the work of someone who understands chemistry. Who understands pharmacology. Who has spent years studying and testing and refining."
He looked at Veyra.
"Whoever made this serum is not an ordinary person. This is extraordinary work."
The room was silent.
Veyra stood very still. Her hands were still steady. Her face was still calm.
But inside, she was screaming with relief.
But Eleanor’s face went through a series of expressions.
Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Denial.
Then she smiled.
It was not a happy smile. It was the smile of someone who had found a crack in the wall and was about to push through it.
"Not an ordinary person," Eleanor said slowly. "That’s what you said, Doctor. Not an ordinary person."
Dr. Harrison nodded. "Yes. The work is extraordinary."
"Exactly." Eleanor turned to face the room. "The work is extraordinary. Which means Veyra couldn’t have done it."
Veyra’s heart stopped.
"She dropped out of high school," Eleanor said. "She has no degree. No training. No credentials. How could someone like her create something extraordinary?"
The room murmured.
"Someone else made this for her," Eleanor said. "She paid someone. A real scientist. A real chemist. Someone with actual credentials. And she’s been passing it off as her own work to make herself look important."
Celeste nodded slowly. "That makes sense."
"It makes perfect sense," Eleanor said. "She’s a fraud. A liar. She’s been playing all of us. The whole family. She tricked Dorian into marrying her. She tricked the old lady into thinking she saved her life. And now she’s trying to trick us into believing she’s some kind of genius."
She pointed at Veyra.
"You’re a con artist," Eleanor said. "That’s what you are. A con artist who got lucky."
Veyra said nothing. Her hands were shaking now. She pressed them against her thighs.
"She hired someone," Eleanor continued. "That’s the only explanation. She paid a real scientist to develop that serum. And then she put her name on it. She’s been deceiving everyone from the very beginning."
The room was turning against her. She could feel it. The way people were looking at her. The suspicion. The doubt.
"Dr. Harrison," Eleanor said, "is it possible that someone else created this serum? Someone with actual credentials?"
Dr. Harrison hesitated. "It’s possible. I can’t say who made it. I can only say that the work is extraordinary."
"See?" Eleanor spread her arms. "She didn’t make this. She couldn’t have made this. The whole family has been duped."
Veyra opened her mouth, closed her mouth and opened it again.
"I made it," she said. Her voice was quiet. "I made it myself. Every formula. Every test. Every refinement. I have notebooks. I have data. I can show you—"
"Notebooks can be faked," Eleanor said. "Data can be manufactured. You could have copied everything from someone else’s research."
"I didn’t—"
"You’re a liar." Eleanor’s voice was cold. "You’ve always been a liar. And now everyone knows it."