Chapter 2 Let Him Try

I swiped to answer, and a voice that was somehow both familiar and strange came through the phone.

"Am I speaking to the head of the artificial heart project? This is Sylvester Walsh. I assume you know who I am."

"Yes."

"What do you want? Money? Status? Fame? One and a half billion? Two billion? I can donate. Maybe it'll bring my critically ill wife some good luck. I know your institute's director. If you take this case, getting promoted to deputy director isn't out of the question. Think about it."

I said nothing, so he continued raising the stakes. "On top of all that, I can even transfer some of my personal shares to you…"

I smiled and interrupted him for the first time. "Mr. Walsh, I'm not interested in any of your offers."

Silence lingered between us for several seconds before he finally asked, "What do you want? Name your price."

I suddenly laughed. "This isn't about money. It's about the patient. I can't do it."

Sylvester laughed in disbelief, his anger evident in his voice. "You can't do it? I asked around. You're the only person in the world who can perform an artificial heart transplant. And now you're telling me you can't do it? You think you're being funny?"

But the next second, he remembered he was the one asking for a favor and softened his tone. "You know what—let's do this. If you perform the surgery—if you save her—I'll give you 5% of C&W Co. I can transfer the shares to you personally right away. That's more money than you'll ever make in your entire life!"

"Mr. Walsh, this isn't about money," I repeated.

"What the hell is it about then?" Sylvester was practically shouting now. "You're a doctor. It's your job to save lives! If you refuse to save her, you're no different from a murderer!"

He took several breaths before continuing, "I've had my assistant look into you. I heard you've poured your heart and soul into this project. You were so short on funding that you once signed a performance-based investment agreement with someone, and you still haven't paid it off. You even implanted experimental materials into your own body for the sake of your research despite everyone's objections and nearly died from anaphylactic shock.

"That agreement comes due this year, doesn't it? C&W Co. is the industry leader. I just have to say the word, and no one will invest in your project again. You should understand what that means. The moment I pull my funding, you'll be facing a financial crisis before long. You and your little project will both be done for."

"Is that so?" I gave a soft laugh. "Well, I appreciate your concern, Mr. Walsh, but if I go down, the person you're trying to save will go down before I do. You're welcome to try."

He fell silent.

All I could hear were several hurried breaths.

"What do you want? What will it take for you to save her?"

"I already told you. I won't."

As if suddenly realizing something, he demanded, "Who are you? Do we know each other? Did I offend you somehow?"

When I did not answer, he became even more convinced of his suspicion. "I don't care who you are! You're going to save her whether you want to or not! I want everything prepared and you on the operating table within three hours. Do it, or else!"

"Try me."

I pressed the button to end the call, and all his unfinished words dissolved into the steady beeping of the disconnected line.

I was not afraid of Sylvester investigating me. I was under national security protection. My records were classified—he could never get to them.

I opened the encrypted program on my desktop.

It contained the truth I had spent the past ten years painstakingly piecing together—the evidence Sylvester had believed he had erased long ago. It was enough to bring down all of C&W Co. It was enough to send Sylvester and Ivy to hell together.

All I had to do was send it, and they would instantly lose everything.

I looked at the half of the old photograph sitting at the corner of my desk and murmured, "Mom, I know your heart has been exhausted from beating inside Ivy's body for all these years. But I'll have to ask you to wait a little longer. I still need to put on an act. People only fall hardest when they're at the very top. I want Sylvester to hurt the way I am hurting. Only then will it be an apology."