“Like not being your subject anymore.” I keep my face neutral, not showing this deranged woman a single fucking emotion.
Dr. Reyes smiles—small, sharp, and completely devoid of warmth. “You were always more than a subject. You were proof of a concept.”
“Not the compliment you think it is.”
She studies me with that physician’s eye, cataloging the same things my mother did but with less judgment and more curiosity. “You’re flushed,” she observes. “Tired. Nauseated, if the way you’re holding your shoulders is any indication. Congratulations.”
The floor tilts a fraction. “On?”
“You and Sterling.” Her voice is cheerful. “Anyone with half a brain could have predicted that outcome.”
My hand curls into a fist at my side. “What about us?”
Dr. Reyes’s smile widens. “You’re pregnant.” A dark feeling in between the beats. “Phase IV’s most interesting data point just became exponentially more valuable. Even if it wasn’t under our supervision.”
“Phase IV’s data point walked out of the lab. This is mine.”
“Is it?” She tilts her head. “You really don’t like thinking of yourself as part of a system, do you?”
Every word is a scalpel. I feel each cut. “Because I’m not part of the program. You may have had me for a little bit.” I take a step away from the door. “But you don’t get to claim this.”
Dr. Reyes leans back as far as the restraints allow, eyes gleaming. “You can kill me. You can burn facilities, reroute assets, and steal children out from under their handlers. But the fact remains: We made you. We made this. You’re just rearranging the pieces.”
An eerie calm slides over my skin like armor. “You keep saying we,” I snicker darkly. “Like that absolves you. Like being part of a machine means you’re not responsible for where the gears cut.” Her smile wavers. “You signed off on every procedure,” I continue. “Every dosage increase. Every escalation. You looked at kids strapped to your tables and saw numbers. That’s not the machine, Reyes. That’s you.”
Something sharp flashes in her eyes. Offended pride. “You don’t understand the variables,” she begs for understanding. “What we were trying to prevent…”
“I don’t care. There is no math that makes what you did necessary.”
Dr. Reyes exhales through her nose, her patience running thin. “Spoken like someone who’s never had to make a hard choice.”
I step closer until I can see the tiny lines around her mouth, the faint sheen of sweat at her hairline. “I’ve made hard choices; I’m making one right now.”
Her gaze lowers, just for a second, to my midsection. “You’re already compromised. You think you’ll be able to keep fighting when the risk includes a dependent variable? They’ll use it against you. Leverage you. Either take it or take you both off the board entirely.”
“They’re welcome to try.” I shrug.
“You can’t win.” Her voice rises. There’s no malice in it—just certainty. “Even if you take me off the board, the work continues. Other doctors. Other labs. Other children. You’ll run yourself into the ground and still lose.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m not willing to sit here and do nothing.”
“That’s denial talking.”
“No.” The word comes out low and dangerous, a warning. “That’s a fucking choice. The correct choice.”
For a moment, she looks almost… fascinated. “I’m guessing you already killed Evelyn, so I guess I’m next, then.”
“Yes.” A single word, no explanation, and no sadness for another life lost.
“And you think that will change something?”
“It already changed something.” I smile sweetly at her. “For the first time, you’re not the one in control.” My smile twists into something darker, no longer sweet.
Fear shudders across her face. She tries to hide it, but I see it.Good. “You won’t get anything else out of me—no codes, no locations, no names. You can torture me, but your timeline won’t allow…”
“I’m not here for intel.”
Dr. Reyes just stares at me, her mind turning gears as she tries to figure out what else could give her an upper hand.