Something felt . . . off.
She slipped behind her desk, and it was too organized. She liked order but had left the prior night in a rush to get to a book club a neighbor had invited her to attend. She’d thrown her calendar and notebook on top of the other items before she grabbed her bag and dashed home.
Now everything was in ordered piles.
Her file with notes on Bethany’s trial was stacked in that pile. It had been in her drawer last night.
Someone had been in her office, and it wasn’t the cleaning crew. They always left her desk in whatever state of chaos she abandoned it.
She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo before she sank to her chair. A quick shuffle didn’t show anything missing that she remembered. How would she know if anyone had been on her computer? She placed a quick call to the IT guru. “Was there any sort of update that would require someone to be at my computer last night?”
The guy scoffed. “Nope. We push everything out over the server. Anything wrong with your computer?”
“I don’t think so but will let you know. Thanks.” She hung up before he could ask more questions.
Maybe she’d left her desk more ordered than she thought. Why would someone dig through her files? She hadn’t been at Praecursoria long enough to make enemies. From a corporate espionage perspective, the truly important information was stored in the labs or password-protected servers. She pivoted and scrambled to unlock the drawer where she stored the patent applications. Those draft documents were filled with proprietary scientific content competitors would love to steal. When she thumbed across the tops, they looked undisturbed and in order based on internal filing deadlines. However, that didn’t mean someone hadn’t been careful. Pulling a couple of files to spot check wouldn’t reveal if someone had snapped photos of the scribbled pages. Most of the real work she did in the PDF forms, but she scanned a few files to make sure nothing was in them that could be harmful if stolen.
After confirming there was no obvious intrusion, she leaned back in her desk chair.
Her computer dinged and she woke up the monitor to find an email from Justin Grant. He’d taken to updating her about once a week on the trials involving Bethany Anderson and Patrick Robbins. Other children were also participating, but she’d met Bethany, talked with Patrick’s parents, and seen his picture. They were the two who put a human face on the work, and Justin appreciated this. Both were in the critical first month, which had proven pivotal in other trials as to whether the transplant would be effective.
Caroline still struggled to understand how sometimes someone had to get sicker before their body could heal.
It was a truth that felt counterintuitive and wrong.
Yet the scientists insisted it was true. And Anna had backed them up.
She opened the email from Justin.
Patrick’s doing AMAZING. The kid’s a walking miracle. Looks like Sarah was right all along that his cells might be the new HeLa cells. I’m still skeptical. I mean we’ve only ever found one HeLa, and scientists have scoured the planet for another since the 1950s. Even tested Henrietta’s family to see if it was a family trait or something. But Bethany needs a miracle. That week he’s ahead of Bethany is showing. She’s a trooper but still one very sick little girl. Her body’s so weak. If you’re a praying woman, now’s a good time.
Caroline locked on to his words about HeLa. There was more to the story, and one way to get it. Take a field trip to the lab.
Ten minutes later Justin walked with her from the lab to the break room. He stretched, twisted, and turned, his lab coat wrapping around his body in a weird dance as if he’d sat trapped in a chair for hours. “Feels good to get out of there for a bit.”
She rolled her eyes as she grabbed a mug emblazoned with the company’s logo. “It can’t be that bad. It’s barely nine o’clock.”
“For you the day might start at eight, but for those of us in the lab, our hours are controlled by our experiments and work. I’ve been here since four.”
“Can I ask what you meant about Patrick having HeLa cells?”
He glanced around the break room then leaned close. “His cells seem to have similar properties. They just keep dividing.”
“And that makes them special?”
“HeLa double every twenty-four hours. It’s this crazy rate of growth that has actually led to them taking over labs. The average red blood cell takes four months to be replaced.”
He acted like there was a significance to this quality that she couldn’t grasp. “I must be missing something.”
“HeLa cells are . . .” Someone walked in and he closed his mouth. “Let’s get our coffee.”
After they’d each filled a mug, they sat at one of the room’s four tables, Justin looking decidedly uncomfortable. “HeLa cells . . .” He shook his head.
Okay, it was time to change the topic. “Can you explain why Bethany isn’t improving?”
Justin ran a hand over his bald head and glanced around before he leaned closer. “Remember that a patient has to reach a certain level of toxicity the first month for the therapy to have a chance of success?”
“Sure. But I can’t say I understand why.”
“Before a patient like Patrick or Bethany gets a CAR T-cell transplant, we use chemotherapy to kill their immune system.”
“Yeah, Anna told me that.”
“It’s critical. The patient has to reach a certain level of crisis to have the chance for all to ultimately go right. We like to see a certain amount of chronic graft-versus-host disease in transplant patients because it means their bodies’ immune systems are engaged and fighting back.” Justin leaned even closer and tugged on his goatee. “Here’s the thing. Bethany’s body shouldn’t be fighting so hard that she’s in graft-versus-host. GVHD is a reaction unique to allogenic transplants.”
“The ones where the donor isn’t the patient?”
“Correct. Now I’ve seen case studies where one or two patients had GVHD when mouse cells are the carriers for the patient’s T cells. But Bethany’s trial is different. The mouse cells are actually hidden inside her cells. Her body should be happy with an immune system that’s welcoming the CAR T cells with wide-open arms.” He took a gulp of his steaming-hot green tea, and Caroline winced.
“So her body’s fighting like it’s not her cells?”
“Yes. That’s what we can’t figure out.” He fidgeted in his chair like an anxious three-year-old. “I’ve rechecked the cells we sent over twice. They’re hers.”
“Maybe she wasn’t a good candidate.”
“It’s possible but doubtful. Dr. Johnson runs her kids through an exhaustive battery of tests before she’ll let us do anything.” He tapped a finger against the table. “That girl should be sailing through this.”
Her heart ached as she pictured the young girl in her hospital room. “There are no guarantees.”
“Right, but she shouldn’t be this sick with GVHD.”
“So what do you do?”
“Keep digging. There’s a reason. I’m a scientist, and I’m trained to make hypotheses.”
“Do you need anything from me?” She could find a way to elegantly stand for what was right, and not just because Bethany was one of Brandon’s kids. Her heart lurched a bit. It had been a good week since she’d seen him, and she missed him. When he’d reached out, she’d made excuses. It was easier that way on days when she worried about the potential effects of Quentin’s risky behavior on Brandon’s investments. Tonight they were going to watch a movie though. That would be good, just what she needed after the long week.
Justin glanced at a couple of folks who stood by the coffeemaker. “I gotta get back to work.”
Caroline startled from her thoughts. “Sure. You okay?”
“Yeah. Just a busy day and there’s not much more to say.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
He stood and hurriedly left the room without putting his mug in the dishwasher. Caroline grab
bed it and took the two mugs to the sink. One of the men watched her openly, so she pasted on a smile and extended her hand. “I’m Caroline Bragg and still relatively new here. Don’t think we’ve met. You are . . .”
The man took her hand and smiled. “Here for the coffee. Then it’s back to work.”
He elbowed his companion, who chimed in with a “Right.”
“Who was that guy you were talking to?” the man asked.
“You work in the labs. I bet you know him.” Her fitness watch vibrated, an alert to move, but the men wouldn’t know that. She tugged her hand free and flicked her wrist to glance at the screen. “Gotta take a call.” She didn’t look back as she left the kitchen. How silly to get worked up because Justin had left abruptly.
She mulled Justin’s comments as she walked back to her office. There was much she didn’t understand about what they did and why it would work for one child and not for another.
When she reached the hallway near her office, Samson Kleme stood outside the door. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. “Morning.”
She startled. “Samson. I’m sorry. Did I forget a meeting?”
“Nope.” He pushed from the wall. “Do you have a minute?”
She glanced at her watch. “I have a couple minutes.”
“This won’t take long. I’ve heard you’re asking a lot of questions.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Anything I can answer for you? Everyone has important work to do, and if I can streamline this for you . . .” He let the sentence dangle at the end.
“I’m still wrapping my head around the science.” She forced her posture to relax as she looked up at him. The man had to be six four. At least Brandon’s height, but Brandon didn’t intimidate her like Samson could. Why was he really here? “Brian and Anna have been a huge help to me, and Justin is helping me track what the studies mean for real kids. I’m starting to grasp the whys behind what we do. Y’all are crazy smart.”
His stance relaxed a fraction. “Some, but in different ways.”
“You could say that. I can write a mean brief and parse the meaning out of any law. But chemistry is still a mystery to me.” She gave him a small shrug. “So what did you need to see me about?”
He studied her and then shook his head as if changing his mind about something. “Wanted to see how you’re settling in. Sounds like you’re talking to the right people.”
She watched him head toward his office, unsure why he’d picked that moment to offer her extra help.
The day passed quickly, and when she left at the end of the day, the offices were dark and unoccupied as if it were ten at night instead of five. It had been a good week, but it was time to disconnect for a couple of days. Brandon could help with that. Especially if he took her to the Disney movie they’d discussed. In those, everything worked out in the end even if there were hiccups and heartaches along the path to a happily ever after.
* * *
Brandon drove to Caroline’s apartment building in his beat-up pickup. He’d considered pulling out his Porsche, but it hadn’t started. Tonight they would finally get to connect after a long week. She wanted to see one of those Disney movies she could quote pretty much verbatim. Some kind of re-release event. He had agreed to the evening’s agenda only because he really wanted the time with her and the chance to forget Bethany’s pain and Almost Home’s challenges.
Such times were increasingly rare.
Earlier that morning, Zeke had asked when the field trip to the horse farm would start Saturday. As Zeke’s little sister, Lexi, had watched, Brandon had to tell him it had been moved again but didn’t mention it was because the adult volunteers were suddenly busy. These volunteers were the key to giving the house parents a break, a few hours to run errands or grab a date lunch. As Zeke’s face fell, Brandon wished he could ask those volunteers what was more important than this boy, who’d already been disappointed by too many adults.
Instead, he’d agreed to reschedule. It was a no-win situation. Some kids like Zeke wouldn’t believe an excursion was happening until vans pulled into the parking lot. But he also couldn’t make it a surprise, because plenty of Almost Home kids only knew surprises to be terrible.
Caroline’s Mustang was parked in its slot at her place. The complex looked a little worn down on the outside, with two-story buildings connected in a side step up an incline, but the interior had been updated right before she moved in.
Maybe he should suggest they take her car. She’d get a kick out of it and might even give the keys to him. The engine hummed with a roar that let those in the vicinity know it was ready to run hard and fast.
He climbed from the truck and took the exterior stairs to her second-floor unit. When she’d given up on her prior apartment, she’d insisted she wouldn’t live in a ground-floor unit again. Being on second or higher was safer than being close to terra firma, even if that meant hiking up the stairs in her silly heels.
She must have heard his approach, because she stood in her open doorway wearing an adorable pair of black pants that hit around her ankles and a leopard-print blouse with matching shoes. Her dark brown hair hung loose around her shoulders, and she wore makeup but not as much as she wore to work. Everything looked natural except for her lips, which were a captivating shade of chocolate brown, a color he was tempted to taste with a kiss.
He gave himself a mental shake and forced his hands in his jeans pockets so he didn’t reach out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You okay, big guy?”
“Does that mean we’re headed to a Marvel movie?”
She gave him a blank look. “Don’t tell me I said something I didn’t know I said.” Then she grinned as she grabbed a sweater and small purse that matched her pants. “Of course not. We’re going to see Beauty and the Beast and you will love every moment.”
“The cartoon version or the one with the dude from Downton Abbey?”
She gave a startled chuckle that ended on a snort. “Seriously? I’m impressed you know there was a dude.”
“There’s always a dude, and he’s typecast as the hideous beast only to reveal his true self in a resurrection from the dead.”
She frowned at him and her pert nose wrinkled in that way he liked. “I’m not letting you dis my favorite princess movie. Even if the live action leaves a bit to be desired.”
He almost didn’t catch the last bit as she mumbled it.
“You’re going to owe me after this, Bragg.”
“Not a chance. This is payback for all the crazy things you make me do.”
“Like what?”
“It’ll come to me.” She stopped next to his truck. “You going to be a gentleman and let me in?”
“Yes, ma’am, though we could take your Mustang.”
“Not tonight. I’m looking forward to being driven around.”
He hopped to her side and opened the door with a flourish. “After you. Wait.” He reached in and moved the small stack of birthday cards. “I’ll get these out of your way.”
“Who are those for?”
“Some of my kids. I almost missed their birthdays.”
“That’s so sweet.”
“Not really. I just always wished I had someone to remember mine.”
“This is why I love you. Your heart is so big.”
“I don’t know about that, but tonight your wish is my command.”
She rolled her eyes but grinned. “See, this is exactly what I needed.”
An hour later as she leaned her head on his shoulder and he slipped his arm around her, he had to agree.
This was exactly what he needed too. For every day of the rest of his life, if he could convince her to let him.
Chapter 12
Monday, May 17
Monday morning Caroline parked her car in Praecursoria’s employee lot. The weekend had been wonderful, and she wanted to extend it by enjoying the warmth of the sunshine on her face and the song of returning birds. No, she really wanted to
go back to Friday night and being tucked into Brandon’s side at the movie and listening to his chest rumble as he hummed along to one of the songs.
That memory put a smile on her lips as she walked the last few feet to the main door. The man wanted her to believe he only tolerated her Disney movies, but that hum revealed his heart. Whether it was watching movies with the kids at Almost Home or with her, he’d become a closet fan. She started humming the tune and had to keep from spinning at the edge of the sidewalk with her arms flung wide like Belle.
A middle-aged man wearing khakis and a button-down shirt held the door, shaking his head with slightly tipped lips.
She grinned at him. “Thanks.”
There would be no apologizing or hiding the joy she felt in this moment. She slid through only to stop when she spotted the congregation of employees in the lobby. When everyone was in the building, there were probably a hundred employees, and they all had to be standing in this space.
She glanced at her watch. It was only eight, and she hadn’t received any sort of email about an all-staff meeting. What was going on?
Quentin stood on a chair in front of the assembled group wearing a massive grin. He looked like he’d either won the lottery or become a grandparent. Neither was a viable option since you had to play the lottery to win, and older children were a prerequisite for grandchildren. Then he glanced down at someone, and Caroline strained to see around, over, or through, but couldn’t. Short-leg syndrome.
She sidled her way around the crowd to the receptionist, who watched from her perch behind the front desk. “Who’s he looking at?”
“That young boy who came for treatment a few weeks ago.”
“Patrick?”
“Yes, Patrick Robbins.”
Had the treatment failed and the release she’d drafted been insufficient? Had the Robbinses brought their young son here to demand something that wasn’t possible? No, that couldn’t be it, or Quentin wouldn’t be holding court with a grin.
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