“Kathleen!” Edith’s face lit up. “Oh, my dear girl. I saw the article this morning—I was absolutely thrilled.”
Before Kathleen could respond, Edith pulled her into a firm, affectionate hug. It caught her off-guard.
“You clever thing,” Edith said, pulling back slightly. “Come in, come in. You must tell me everything.”
Kathleen followed her inside, still disoriented by the warmth. The living room hadn’t changed—same woven rugs, worn-in leather armchair, the bookcase full of books, same air of scholarly charm.
“Sit,” Edith said, already heading toward the sideboard. “Do you want tea or something celebratory?”
“Wine would be nice,” Kathleen eyed her closely. She wasn’t showing any signs of guilt.
Edith poured two glasses of a pale Riesling and returned, handing one to her. “Now tell me. News of your paper is the talk of the academic circles. Your parents must be beside themselves.”
Kathleen managed a faint smile. “I’ve been out of town for a couple of days preparing the paper. I’ll see them tonight.”
“The plants? How do they work?”
Kathleen nodded, overcome by the need to discuss her work with her mentor like old times. “They’re genetically engineered aquatic plants. They generate power through multiple channels, light, motion, even atmospheric electricity. Their cells contain modified organelles that store energy in dense molecular bonds. It’s... sort of like a living battery. A very efficient, very green battery.” Then she went on to explain the concept more thoroughly.
Edith’s eyes gleamed when she finished. “Good lord. And here I was happy getting moss to clean toxins. You’ve taken it to the stars.”
Kathleen chuckled weakly, then took a sip of wine. She stared into the glass and took a deep breath. “Edith… can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
She hesitated. “I need you to be honest with me.”
Edith turned toward her, attentive now.
Kathleen reached into her bag and pulled out her laptop. She tapped the screen until the rival patent appeared, then turned it toward Edith. “Do you know anything about this?”
Edith took the phone and squinted at the EW Enterprises header. The date. The data.
“What is this?” she asked, seeming genuinely puzzled.
“It’s my work,” Kathleen said. “Filed under your initials. Forty-two hours before my own patent was submitted.”
Edith blinked, then looked at her with more sorrow than surprise. “Kathleen… no. I didn’t file this.”
“You have admin access. You’ve seen my drafts. You know my design. It’s the full version, Edith, not only what I published. It includes the proprietary data.”
“I understand,” Edith stated earnestly. “But I swear to you, I didn’t do this.”
Kathleen studied her, the way her face didn’t change, the lack of defensiveness. No deflection. No justifications, simply quiet devastation.
“I didn’t know about EW Enterprises,” Edith added. “I haven’t filed a patent in over ten years.”
Kathleen’s throat tightened. “Then who?”
Edith reached out and gently rested a hand over hers. She shook her head. “I don’t know, darling but whoever did this is a thief.”
Kathleen sat back, the tension seeping out of her spine in a slow, exhausted wave.
“You were right to ask me,” Edith said. “And I’m glad you did.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“But you had to. This is your life’s work and you needed to be sure.”
