Chapter 4 The Silver Pin

Caden's POV

I stood across the street from the lab with a cold cup of coffee and a photo in my pocket.

Her name was Aurora Blake. My father had given me the file three weeks ago. Watch her, he said. Don’t talk to her, and don’t let anyone see you.

I did not ask why. I never did, with my father.

She came down the street in a grey coat with a little girl’s hand in hers. She stopped at the school gate for a long time and kissed the girl’s hair. Then she looked up and down the street as if she was checking for something no one else could see.

Something in my chest pulled tight, like a rope tied to her.

I had seen her face in that photo a hundred times. It was not the same as watching it move.

‘This is only a job,’ I told myself.

I did not believe it.

*******

Aurora's POV

I took Ivy to school myself the next morning. I walked her to her classroom door and told her teacher that no one else could pick her up. The teacher gave me a strange look but didn’t care.

“Why are you staying?” Ivy asked, holding my sleeve.

“I like looking at you,” I said, and she rolled her eyes and let go.

Then I went straight to the lab.

The last time I saw this building, the windows were smashed and the freezers were dark. Now the lights were on and someone was playing music in the hall. I had to stop at the door and breathe.

Dr. Ford had run the lab for ten years. She was fair and tired, and she had read every one of my warnings and put them in a drawer. I put my charts on her desk before she could take off her coat.

“Those fever cases on the news are not the flu,” I said. “They are the Mars Virus, and it has changed. The cases will double every four days. By spring the hospitals will be full.”

She looked at the charts for a long time. “Where did you get these numbers?”

“I built the model.”

“From what? The hospitals have sent us nothing.”

“From what I know.”

“That is not a reason, Aurora.” She sat down. “You told me the same thing about the strain last year, and the one before that.”

“I was early before. I am not wrong now.”

“How do you know?”

I could not tell her. If I said I had died and come back, she would send me to a doctor. So I said the only true thing I could. “People will die, and a lot of them. I need the hospital samples this week.”

“The hospitals do not want to send them. The donor board does not want the word ‘outbreak’ in a letter. Not because of a hunch.” Dr. Ford rubbed her eyes. “Aurora, when did you last sleep?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It does. You are off the Mars project. Dr. Kim will run it for the next two weeks.”

I felt the floor move. “You can’t.”

“I can. And I just did.”

“It’s my project. Six years of work.”

“And it will still be here when you have rested.” Her voice was kind, and that made it worse. “Go home. See your daughter.”

“Then I will take this to the board.”

“If you go over my head, I will have to write it down,” she said. “Please do not make me.”

I picked up my charts. My hands were not steady.

In my first life, I had stood in this same office and nodded when she told me to calm down. I had gone home and waited, and the city burned. I had promised myself that I would never wait again.

I walked out into the hall with my eyes stinging. Through the glass wall of the main lab, I saw Dr. Kim already carrying a box of my files to his desk. He did not look up.

“Dr. Blake.”

A man stood at the window at the end of the hall, hands in his pockets. He was tall, in a gray suit, with silver at his temples and a face that looked like it was always about to smile. I knew him. Mr. Bishop had paid for half of this building. I had shaked his hand at two dinners and thought he was the one kind man on the donor board. In my first life he had sent flowers when the lab closed. I had kept the card.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I heard some of that. The walls here are thin.”

“It’s all right.”

“It is not.” He said it softly. “I read your reports, Dr. Blake. All of them. Everyone else sees a scared scientist. I see someone who is right and has no one listening.”

My throat went tight. Nobody had said that to me in a very long time, in either life.

“What do you need?” he asked.

I should have been careful. But he was the first person to ask. “Samples from the hospitals. From the fever cases, as soon as possible.”

“How many?”

“All of them. Every case.”

“Every case.” He seemed to like the sound of it. “Then you will have them.”

“Dr. Ford said the board…”

“Dr. Ford answers to a board.” He smiled. “I answer to myself. I will have a courier bring the samples here tonight. You can work in the small lab downstairs, where no one will look.”

I stared at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I pay for this lab to find answers, and you are the only one asking the right question.” He tilted his head. “All I ask is one thing. Send me your notes each week. I like to understand what I pay for.”

I hesitated.

It was a small thing. Donors asked for reports all the time. And I had just been taken off my own project, and he was holding out the one thing I needed.

“Of course,” I said.

“How is your family?” he asked, as if it was an afterthought.

“Fine. Safe.”

“Good. Family is what we protect.”

He held out his hand. “Your work is safe with me, Dr. Blake. I will make sure of it.”

I shook it. His hand was warm and dry.

As he stepped closer, I noticed a small silver pin on the front of his gray jacket.

Three rings, linked together.

My blood went cold. I had seen those rings on a metal band around the leg of a dead wolf, the night I died.

“Is something wrong?” Bishop asked.

He was still holding my hand.

“No,” I said, and made myself smile. “Nothing.”

He let go and walked away down the hall, whistling. I stood where he had left me and looked at the hand he had shaken.

I had just promised to hand my notes to a man who wore that mark.