Chapter 27 Just for the Child
Dr. Harrison was packing his bag.
He moved slowly, carefully, like a man who had learned not to rush. The test tubes were wrapped in foam. The folder was tucked under his arm. His eyes kept drifting back to Veyra.
"You don’t need to prepare anything," he said. "Not yet. The formula is already there. The work is already done."
Veyra nodded. She was still wearing the white lab coat. She had forgotten to take it off.
"What I need from you," Dr. Harrison continued, "is your decision. The specific terms and conditions for licensing the formula. How you want to structure the deal. What you want in return."
She had never thought about any of that. For three years, she had been focused on one thing: making the serum work. She had not considered what would happen after.
"Take your time," Dr. Harrison said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small white card. His name was printed in black letters. A phone number with an email address.
"Call me when you’re ready," he said. "We’ll talk."
He handed her the card. She took it. Her fingers were trembling slightly.
Dr. Harrison smiled.
"You’ve done something remarkable, Mrs. Thorne," he said. "I hope you know that."
He picked up his bag and walked to the door. The butler opened it for him. He nodded at Dorian. Then he was gone.
The door closed.
The laboratory was even quieter now.
Veyra stood alone in the middle of the room.
The white lab coat was still on her shoulders. The test tubes were still on the table. The smell of chemicals hung in the air.
She felt something rise in her chest. Something warm. Something she had not felt in a very long time.
Hope.
She turned to look at Dorian. He was still standing by the door. His gray eyes were on her. His face was unreadable. But he had not left. He had stayed.
"You’re my lucky god," she said.
His eyebrow twitched. "What?"
"My lucky god. My hero." She stepped toward him. "You stood up for me. In front of everyone. You made them listen. You gave me back my dignity."
He said nothing.
"I’ve been alone for so long," she said. "Fighting by myself. Defending myself. No one ever stood up for me. Not my husband. Not my family. Not anyone."
She reached him. She was close enough to see the individual flecks of gray in his eyes. Close enough to smell him, cedar.
"Thank you," she said.
Her hands reached out before she knew what she was doing. They wrapped around his arm. Both hands. Tight. Grateful.
He looked down at her hands. Then he looked at her face.
"I didn’t do it for you," he said.
She blinked.
"I did it for the child." His voice was flat. "The child needs its mother. The child needs its mother to be respected in this house. That’s the only reason."
She stared at him.
He pulled his arm away. Gently but firmly. Then his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen.
"I have to take this," he said.
He walked out of the laboratory without looking back.
Veyra stood there, alone, her hands still reaching for someone who was no longer there.
She went back to her room.
The white lab coat was folded over her arm. She hung it in the closet. It was too big for her. Dorian’s grandfather had been a larger man. But she kept it anyway.
She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out Dr. Harrison’s card.
Dr. Walter Harrison. Internal Medicine. Cardiology.
She turned the card over in her fingers. The paper was thick and expensive.
She knew what she wanted.
Not money or fame. Not the licensing rights or the distribution deals or any of the things Dr. Harrison had talked about.
She wanted something else. Something no one could give her except him.
She picked up her phone and dialed.
Dr. Harrison answered on the second ring. "Mrs. Thorne. That was fast."
"I know what I want," she said.
"Tell me."
"Not over the phone. Can we meet? Somewhere quiet?"
There was a pause. Then: "Of course. There’s a café on Ring Road. The Savina. Do you know it?"
"No."
"I’ll send you the address. One hour?"
"One hour."
She hung up.
She was putting on her shoes when the knock came.
Soft. Tentative. Three little taps.
She opened the door.
Lily stood in the hallway. She was holding a tray. On the tray were cookies. Heart-shaped. Pink icing. A little lopsided.
"I made these," Lily said. Her cheeks were pink. "For you. To say thank you. For teaching me."
Veyra’s heart melted.
"Lily," she said. "They’re beautiful."
"They’re a little burnt." Lily held up the tray. "The bottoms are darker than they’re supposed to be. But the tops are good. I tasted one."
Veyra took the tray. She set it on the dresser. Then she knelt down so she was at Lily’s eye level.
"Thank you," she said. "This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time."
Lily’s smile was shy. "Really?"
"Really."
Lily looked at Veyra’s shoes. At her bag. At the phone in her hand.
"Are you going somewhere?" Lily asked.
"Yes. I have a meeting. At a café."
"Can I come?"
Veyra hesitated. "I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m meeting someone. About medicine stuff. It might be boring."
"I won’t be bored." Lily’s eyes were wide. Pleading. "I’ll be quiet. I promise. You won’t even know I’m there."
Veyra looked at the girl. At the loneliness behind her eyes. At the way she clutched the edge of her skirt.
"My great-grandmother lets me go places," Lily said. "She says I’m too sheltered. She says I need to see the world."
Veyra almost laughed. "The Savina Café on Ring Road is not exactly the world."
"It’s more than I usually see."
Veyra thought about it. About the security detail. About Dr. Harrison. About the fact that she was still learning how to be around people again.
"Okay," she said. "But you have to ask your great-grandmother first."
Lily’s face lit up. She turned and ran down the hallway before Veyra could say another word.
Lily returned five minutes later, breathless and triumphant.
"She said yes!" Lily grabbed Veyra’s hand. "She said yes, but I have to behave and I have to listen to you and I can’t talk to strangers."
"That’s a lot of rules."
"I can handle it."
Veyra smiled. She could not help it. The girl was infectious.
"Okay," Veyra said. "Let’s go."
They walked downstairs together. The butler was waiting by the front door. His face was serious.
"Mrs. Thorne," he said. "Mr. Thorne has instructed me to provide you with security. Given the recent... events... he feels it is necessary."
Veyra wanted to say no. She wanted to say she could take care of herself. But she looked at Lily, at the small girl with the trusting eyes, and she changed her mind.
"Okay," she said.
The butler nodded. He opened the front door.
Three black cars were waiting in the driveway. Seven bodyguards stood beside them. Dark suits. Earpieces. Sunglasses.
Veyra blinked. "This seems like a lot."
"Mr. Thorne is thorough," the butler said.
Lily tugged on Veyra’s hand. "This is so cool."
Veyra laughed. It was the first real laugh she had laughed in days.
They got into the middle car. The bodyguards surrounded them. The convoy pulled out of the driveway and onto the main road.
On the balcony above, Eleanor watched them leave.
Her cheek was still red. Her lip was still swollen. Her eyes were narrow. Hungry.
She had lost the bet. She had been humiliated in front of everyone. But she was not done. Not by a long shot.
The child, she thought. If something happened to the child while it was in Veyra’s care, Dorian would never forgive her.
Eleanor smiled. It was not a nice smile.
She turned to the bodyguard standing behind her. Her voice was low.
"I have a job for you," she said.
The bodyguard leaned closer.