Chapter 4

Carl let out a sigh.

“No one outside knows about this. It’s something only those of us from the institute know.”

Those of us.

A quiet warmth spread through Phoebe’s chest.

After the way she had left, she never expected Carl to still count her as one of them.

“Carl, just tell me what I need to do.”

He was about to answer when he noticed how exhausted she looked.

The words died on his lips.

“Let’s find somewhere to sit down and talk.”

Phoebe nodded and followed him to a Cajun restaurant they used to go to all the time.

The moment she saw the familiar sign, a strange feeling came over her.

Before she married Zac, Phoebe had loved spicy food. Back at the institute, no one could handle as much heat as she could.

But Zac couldn’t tolerate spicy food at all. He liked everything mild.

Little by little, Phoebe had changed the way she ate for him. The food at home became milder and milder until she eventually stopped eating spicy food altogether.

Even though the change never sat particularly well with her stomach, she never complained.

She had done it for Zac.

Carl led her inside, and they took a table.

Phoebe glanced around.

The place had been remodeled and looked completely different from what she remembered.

Carl noticed her expression and handed her a menu.

“Phoebe, has it really been that long since you’ve been here?”

She lowered her eyes, and they began to sting.

“Yeah. I’ve been busy. I just haven’t had time.”

Something shifted in Carl’s expression.

He knew that wasn’t the real reason.

Phoebe hadn’t simply been busy.

She had spent so long shaping her life around Zac that somewhere along the way, she had stopped living for herself.

“They’ve remodeled the place, but the menu hasn’t changed much,” Carl said. “Want to get our usual?”

Phoebe nodded.

“Sure. You pick.”

Carl ordered the spicy chicken they used to love, along with a couple of sides, and rice for both of them.

Phoebe took one bite of the chicken.

Heat immediately spread across her tongue.

Within seconds, her eyes were watering and her face had turned bright red.

“Carl, water. Please.”

He quickly slid his glass toward her.

As she drank, his expression slowly changed.

Phoebe finally caught her breath, but Carl remained quiet for a long moment.

“You used to eat food way hotter than this,” he said. “Now this is enough to make you cry.”

He looked at her closely.

“How long has it been since you’ve had anything spicy?”

His voice softened.

“Actually, how long has it been since you’ve gone out and done something you wanted to do?”

The question hit a little too close to home.

Maybe it was the lingering heat in her mouth, but once Phoebe’s tears started falling, she couldn’t seem to stop them.

“Carl, I...”

Her voice broke.

Carl understood now.

He understood why she looked so exhausted.

Why she hadn’t known the restaurant had been remodeled.

Why someone who used to love spicy food could barely handle it anymore.

A bad feeling settled over him.

“Tell me why you’re getting divorced.”

Phoebe stiffened.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips.

She had tried so hard to hide how badly things had fallen apart, but Carl had seen through her anyway.

So she briefly told him what had happened.

The longer she spoke, the darker his expression became.

Finally, Carl shot to his feet.

“That bastard Zac Sanders! After everything he promised when he married you, this is how he treats you?”

He pushed his chair back.

“I’m going to find him!”

Phoebe quickly grabbed his arm.

“Don’t, Carl. There’s no point.”

Soon enough, she was going to forget Zac anyway.

Carl stared at her, frustrated and heartbroken.

His eyes gradually turned red.

“Why didn’t you tell us any of this sooner?”

His voice softened.

“Phoebe, you’ve been through enough.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

“Come back.

“The institute will always be your home.”

The mention of the institute reminded Phoebe of something Carl had said earlier.

“Wait. You said something was wrong with the project. What happened?”

Carl hesitated before lowering his gaze.

“We’ve hit a wall. There’s a major problem we still haven’t been able to solve.”

He paused.

“You were the one leading the project back then. Dr. Zeller mostly guided you and backed you up. After you left, his health started getting worse.

“We’ve been struggling for funding for a long time. Then Dr. Zeller got sick, and researchers started leaving one after another.”

Carl sighed.

“Other than me, almost everyone on the team is new now.”

He fell quiet for a moment, as if he didn’t want to tell her the rest.

“The administration is sending in a new PhD to help move the project forward. But we both know that isn’t going to fix the real problem.”

He gave a humorless laugh.

“Without funding, it doesn’t matter how brilliant the person is. No one can keep a project like this alive without money.”

Phoebe stared at him in shock.

How had things gotten this bad?

When they first started the project, every person on the team had been full of confidence.

They had promised each other they would make a breakthrough within ten years and take on one of medicine’s greatest challenges.

Now the project was barely surviving.

Phoebe’s eyes turned red.

“Carl, did this happen because I left?”

She had walked away so suddenly back then.

Looking back, it felt as if she had completely lost her mind. She had abandoned everything without even thinking twice.

There was no way her departure hadn’t affected the project.

“I’m not going to stand by and watch it fall apart,” Phoebe said. “If the institute still needs me, I’ll come back.”

Even if Zion refused to forgive her, she wouldn’t walk away again.

Carl shook his head.

“Phoebe, this isn’t all because of you.”

He hesitated before adding quietly, “We just stopped being a team.”

His voice faded on the last few words.

Back then, they had all believed the same thing.

As long as everyone pulled together, there was nothing they couldn’t overcome.

But Phoebe had been the first one to leave.

For the first time, she truly understood just how much her decision had cost everyone.

“Carl, I’ve made up my mind.”

She looked at him.

“I’m going to find funding.”

Earlier that day, she had seen a news article announcing that Damon Hayes had returned from overseas.

The moment she saw his name, her heart had skipped a beat.

Damon was her uncle.

But they had never been close.

Years ago, he had been the one to take her out of foster care. Not long afterward, he left the country, and they had barely seen each other since.

Phoebe hadn’t even known he was back until she saw the news.

That alone said enough about their relationship.

Still, she had to try.

She wouldn’t know unless she asked.

Carl frowned.

“What are you planning?”

Phoebe only smiled.

“I’ll tell you if it works.”

Then she got to her feet.

“I have to go, Carl. There’s something else I need to take care of.”

With the damaged painting in her arms, Phoebe left the restaurant.

She still needed to find an art conservator who could restore the last painting her mother had left her.

She stepped outside and headed down the street.

Across the street, a black Maybach was parked at the curb.

The rear window slowly rolled down, revealing the sharp, composed profile of the man sitting in the back seat.

Damon turned his head and watched Phoebe disappear down the street, his dark eyes fixed on her until she rounded the corner.

The window slid back up.

“Take me back to the office.”

Eric, his executive assistant, hesitated behind the wheel.

“Mr. Hayes, wasn’t that your niece?”