Awaiting the Heir

To save her life's work, Dr. Lily James had precisely seventeen minutes.

Five hundred of the top genetic researchers in the world were waiting for her presentation in the Goldener Hirsch Hotel conference room in Zurich, where the elevator hummed as it ascended.

She had seventeen minutes to persuade the Fleming Foundation that her research should be supported going forward. 17 minutes in remembrance of her sister. It was seventeen minutes before her career collapsed.

She whispered to her image in the mirror wall, "You've got this."

Her most expensive outfit, a fitted charcoal suit and an emerald blouse was insufficient to cover up the shadows under her amber eyes. Her presentation had been impacted by three restless nights spent finishing it.

Her cell rang. Julia, her research partner, texted her: Where are you? Fleming's Gustafson is inquiring.

Lily felt a knot in her stomach. Her chances were even worse than she had anticipated if the foundation's infamously critical director, Albert Gustafson, was already searching for her.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a sea of academic posturing and dark suits.

With her shoulders squared, Lily entered the battle and made her way through groups of the scientific elite. Bits and pieces of their conversations drifted by: self-congratulatory anecdotes, funding complaints, and academic rivalries.

"There you are!" Julia materialized beside her, his slack body almost pulsing with stress. "I was going to send a search party."

"I apologize. last-minute data verification. She tapped the tablet she was holding to her chest. "Is Gustafson anywhere?"

"Center, front row. Examining his watch every 30 seconds. Julia's voice trailed off. "The rumors are accurate. After this quarter, Fleming will cut their genetics grants in half.

Lily's veins grew cold. "Half? Last cycle, they provided funding for twenty-eight projects.

"They're also keeping fourteen. Maximum. Julia gave her arm a squeeze.

"However, your sister's syndrome is convincing. Individuals. If someone can persuade them

"

"Don't." Lily withdrew. "Emma is not at issue here." It has to do with science.

But I was at the center of it. About the copper-curled seven-year-old who had withered in Lily's sight, her genetic code betraying her with every cell division.

Regarding the vow made by sixteen-year-old Lily next to a hospital bed that was too big for her sister's swollen body: I'll find out what's killing you.

I will ensure that no one else experiences it.

After fifteen years, she had a better understanding of Valois Syndrome than anyone had ever had. Furthermore, she might never finish what she had begun because funding is about to be cut off.

"Dr. James, five minutes." A conference assistant gave the stage a nod.

Lily's heart pounded against her ribs as she walked toward the wings. Albert Gustafson's silver head was in the middle of a row of skeptics' faces as she looked around the audience. His face gave the impression that he had already decided what would happen to her.

The weight of attention, distinct from the crowd's ambient scrutiny, hit her halfway through her mental rehearsal.

Lily glanced over and saw a man standing against the distant wall.

He wasn't bent over a phone like the others; he was tall, with shoulders that complemented his perfectly fitted navy suit.

He was observing her with an open and honest look. He didn't avert his gaze when they locked eyes. Rather, a corner of his mouth raised in what could have been supported.

His posture, which was too self-assured and overly physical, gave the impression that he didn't belong in this realm of academic politics. Maybe security? However, his clothes' understated elegance and the perceptive evaluation in his blue eyes gave the impression that this was not the case.

The moderator declared, "Dr. Lily James will be presenting on Novel Gene Expression Patterns in Valois Syndrome."

After forcing herself to look past the stranger, Lily took the stage.

She was fully a part of science for sixteen minutes. Her voice remained steady as she navigated the intricate relationship between the protein misfolding in the syndrome and the body's inability to correct it, while data points and genetic sequences passed through her like a current.

There was a slight change in the room, a collective gasp of breath that suggested that perhaps, just possibly, she was onto something when she announced the breakthrough of the synthetic enzyme that had stabilized cell degradation in her lab mice.

"With sustained assistance," she said, looking directly into Gustafson's eyes, "we can proceed to human trials in 18 months." We may be able to treat the underlying genetic abnormality in addition to managing Valois Syndrome. Thank you.

The room erupted in respectful but unenthusiastic applause. She had performed well but well might not be sufficient in this setting.

She kept looking in the direction where the blue-eyed stranger had been standing as the questions started, but he was no longer there. "Pay attention," she told herself. Are you preoccupied with a pretty face when your career is on the line?

Julian then stopped her with two glasses of champagne as the guests started to disperse for the evening cocktail reception.

"You were very intelligent." He placed a flute in her hand. "Your entire data set was requested by Gustavson."

"That could mean anything." Lily took a sip of the wine, letting the bubbles to melt on her tongue. "He didn't seem convinced."

"He is never persuaded. His default setting is that. Julia clattered his glass to hers. "Network a bit, please. Prove to them that you are more than just lab mice and data.

They moved around the reception, Lily compelled herself to strike up a conversation with possible partners as she looked around for Gustafson. Rather, she kept getting sidetracked by flashes of dark hair and broad shoulders that were not those of her enigmatic observer.

She fled to the hotel bar, a wood-paneled haven located several floors away from the conference chaos, an hour later, exhausted from the confidence performance.

After ordering a gin and tonic and sliding onto a stool, she took out her tablet to go over the presentation again. She had lost them, but where? What else might she have said?

"Your presentation wasn't the problem."

The deep voice caught her off guard. She looked back to find a blue-eyed stranger seated on the chair across her close enough for her to catch the scent of his cologne, laced with bergamot and cedar.

"Sorry, what?" she asked.

"Your demo," he said as the bartender set a tumbler of amber liquid in front of him. He gave a slight nod in thanks. "The problem isn't what you presented. It's that half the people in that room are too entrenched in old-school methods to appreciate what you're offering."

Lily looked at him, wondering if she should identify him as another researcher. "And you are?"

"Gabriel." He held out his hand. "Gabriel Valois."

Her memory was jogged by something in the name, but her thoughts were broken by his firm, warm, and electric handshake.

She questioned, "You're familiar with Valois Syndrome research?"

His face took on a shadow. "More than I'd like to be." He sipped his beverage. "Your method of stabilizing proteins is not only novel, but revolutionary. If it's successful.

"In the mouse model, it functions. Regularly." Her eyes narrowed. "Are you being hired by a pharmaceutical company?"

His laugh was deep and unexpectedly real. "No. Assume I'm a curious bystander with experience in the field.

"Want to describe how you would approach the Fleming Foundation?" Lily was taken aback by how straightforward the question was. She was cautious and recklessly honest about him.

Gabriel looked at her for a long time, his eyes a deep blue that almost looked cobalt, as if he was evaluating more than just her inquiry.

At last, he stated, "Fleming is conservative." Instead of paradigm shifts, they prefer small, rapidly monetizable improvements. However, other organizations are more open to innovative methods. For example, the Vallémont Royal Medical Institute.

"In the kingdom of Vallémont?" Lily's eyebrow went up. "It's a coincidence that Valois Syndrome is named after the same Vallémont."

"Not coincidentally at all." Gabriel's face darkened. In that area, the syndrome is especially common. Thus, they are interested in novel therapies.

She questioned whether his interest went beyond academics based on something in his tone. Her phone buzzed with Julia's name on the screen before she could ask him any more questions.

"Won't you respond?" After the third vibration, Gabriel inquired.

Lily put the phone on silent. "He'll make it through one night without me."

"Boyfriend?"

"Colleague." She sipped her drink again, relishing the faint burn. "It's been three years since we became research partners."

"And he wants to be more."

She gave him a stern look. "You've only known me for five minutes."

"I'm sensitive." Once again, the lower part of his mouth lifted in an almost-smile. "And when you were talking about protein sequencing in your speech, he was unable to keep his eyes off you."

In spite of herself, Lily laughed. "Julia is passionate about protein sequencing."

"I don't believe he's enthusiastic about just that." Her eyes met Gabriel's, and the moment between them was filled with unexpected potential.

She needs to turn her head away. She ought to thank him for the insights, finish her glass of water, and head back to her room to get ready for tomorrow's meeting. "What brings you to a genetics conference if you're not in pharmaceuticals or research?" she asked instead.

Do you think fate exists? A faint dimple appeared in his right cheek as his smile widened.

"I believe in empirical evidence and statistical probability."

"Then let's refer to it as a fortunate coincidence that is empirically verifiable but statistically unlikely." He held up his glass. "To scientific serendipity."

Lily had the clear impression that she was leaving a meticulously planned path and entering unexplored territory as she clinked her glass against his. It should have been a terrifying experience for someone who had centered her life on carefully monitored experiments and predictable results.

Instead, it felt strangely like coming home.