HE’D LOVED ME SINCE I WAS EIGHTEEN—THEN HE LOOKED AT ME AND ASKED, “GREER, WHAT DO YOU WANT MOST?”

The hidden cutting carried a modified gene sequence designed to increase compound yield.

It also produced the toxic metabolite found in the dead animal subjects.

Greer’s original A17 line had not caused the fatalities.

Nolan created A17-M without authorization, hoping higher yield would make the project commercially irresistible. He mixed results from both lines in summary reports, making Greer’s safe but low-yield research appear more successful while hiding the modified line’s danger.

The discovery saved the scientific foundation of Greer’s work and condemned its management.

She felt relief, then shame at the relief. Three animals had died because Nolan wanted a marketable graph; the fact that her design was not responsible did not turn their deaths into good news.

The university panel cleared Greer of intentional misconduct but cited inadequate supervision and conflict-of-interest failures. She accepted a two-year restriction on leading animal studies and mandatory independent oversight.

Several colleagues urged her to appeal, arguing the punishment would validate Aldercrest’s accusations. Greer refused.

“A corrupt company can make a true criticism,” she said. “I will not call the criticism false because I dislike who benefits.”

The restriction hurt. Grants vanished. Invitations disappeared. Yet accepting it separated scientific accountability from Celeste’s attempt to destroy her, allowing Greer to defend herself without insisting she had done everything right.

Nolan contacted her through an encrypted research forum.

He claimed Celeste ordered the modification and threatened to end his career if he told Greer. He offered the complete protocol and location of the healthy Swiss culture if Greer signed a statement naming him equal inventor and withdrew her criminal complaint.

“He is bargaining with evidence,” Miriam said.

Greer replied that inventorship would be determined by records, not forgiveness. Nolan sent one final file: a video of the original orchid inside a mobile climate chamber.

It had been removed from Cascadia.

Nolan possessed the physical plant again.

The timestamp showed less than an hour earlier. Behind the chamber, freight containers bore Port of Portland markings.

He planned to move the orchid overseas.

Rafe knew the port systems but was under travel restrictions and could not approach. He gave investigators maps, contractor lists, and access histories instead of trying to become the rescuer.

Greer noticed the change.

“You want to go,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you?”