Kathleen listened, her face paling. “He doesn’t know what I’m doing.”
Marise nodded. “No, but he suspects it’s something powerful enough to scare off his donors.”
“What are we going to do with this?”
Marise’s voice was calm. “We use it. I know a reporter who’s still got ethics and reach. If I send this to him, it’ll explode. Conway won’t only lose the contract—he’ll lose his reputation.”
Kathleen didn’t speak right away. “Will that stop them coming after me?”
Marise hesitated. “It’ll stop Conway and send a warning to anyone else watching.”
Kathleen sat back in her chair, hand resting lightly over her heart. “Then let’s do it. Everyone will be safe then.”
Marise clicked save. Then she leaned in and kissed her gently on the temple. “We’ll take this bastard down.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kathleen clicked “Send” and sat back in the wooden chair, her shoulders sagging from the strain of it all. For a moment, she didn’t move, simply watched the flicker of the cursor on the now-empty email screen. The submission was gone. The paper was out of her hands now, her years of research in the public eye to be scrutinized.
She’d sent it to the head of the institute first, thanking them for giving her the opportunity to complete her research. Then to Edith Williams, her mentor, the woman who had stood solidly behind her, encouraging her as she studied for her PhD. Next to three scientific journals:Nature Energy,Environmental Science & Technology, andeLife. A quiet transmission of years of data, equations, results and finally success.
She hadn’t included every detail. Some formulas had been trimmed, altered slightly to buy her time. But enough was there to prove it worked.
She opened the patent filing tab next, her fingers trembling slightly. Normally, she should have applied before publication, but circumstances had prevented that. She typed quickly now, uploading schematics and encoded graphs, summarising her method for cellular charge cycling in aquatic-basedextremophile hybrids. She knew she was ahead of the field, that she’d made something that could change everything.
Veronica padded over in socks and leaned over her shoulder, brushing her fingers lightly over Kathleen’s back. “That’s it?”
Kathleen nodded, still staring at the screen. “It’s gone. All of it. To the journals, to Edith… The patent’s filed, too. I should have applied for that first but it couldn’t be helped.”
Veronica kissed her temple. “It’s out now, that’s all that matters.”
Kathleen gave a wry smile. “If I waited for the patent to clear, I’d probably be dead.”
“Now that bastard, Conway, won’t be game to touch you,” Veronica said with satisfaction.
Kathleen clicked the computer off then tilted her head to look at her. “Did you send your exposé?”
Veronica nodded. “Yep. It’s gone. He’s been waiting for the right story, so it’ll be headlines tomorrow.”
They looked at each other for a long moment—exhausted, relieved, still reeling from the speed of the past few days. Kathleen got up and opened the front door to look out. The morning mist had vanished and the sun shone brightly. “It’s a beautiful day,” she said wistfully.
“We’ve got one more day,” Veronica said quietly, “before all hell breaks loose.”
Kathleen stood and took her hand. “Then let’s spend it outside.”
They set out after nine for a hike around the lake. The cabin soon disappeared from view, swallowed by tall pines that grew thickly along the trail that curved behind the clearing.It wound gradually uphill; its surface covered with old pine needles and lichened stones. Veronica walked beside her in silence, her steps light, her hair tied back beneath a cap.
Kathleen led the way at first, but soon slowed, not because she was tired, but because she wanted to savour the walk. She didn’t say it aloud, but she’d already memorized Veronica’s body, the rhythm of her voice. She wanted to remember the forest with her in it too. The rough scent of moss as they walked and the sweep of shadow along her cheekbone when sunlight filtered through leaves. All of it.
“Watch your step,” she said softly as the path narrowed beside a drop of shale.
Veronica touched her back lightly. “Always watching.”
They stopped at a bend where the trees parted enough to reveal a glimpse of the valley below. The forest fell away in waves—cedar, spruce, and the skeletal white limbs of ghost gums, their pale trunks gleaming faintly in the light. Beyond that, a dark smudge of lake caught the sun.
Kathleen pointed. “That’s where we kayaked.”
Veronica nodded. “I recognize the landmarks.”
