Chapter 4

A week into the treatment, the door to Noah's lab slid open with a hiss. Liam Thorne rolled in, with Chloe Davies walking confidently beside him. Her expression was a mixture of curiosity and contempt.

"Just checking in on the competition," Chloe said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. She peered at the complex diagnostic charts floating around Ava. "Still trying to untangle that little knot? You know, my Prometheus AI is already performing simulations with a ninety-nine percent success rate. Liam will be dancing at our victory party."

She then turned her attention to Clara Hayes, who was observing from a corner.

"You're being awfully trusting, Ms. Hayes," Chloe said, her tone shifting to one of mock concern. "You're letting a disgraced programmer run wild in your brother's neural network. For all you know, she could be doing more damage. She's desperate. And a desperate woman will do anything to win."

Clara's face remained impassive. She simply walked over to stand beside Ava, a silent show of solidarity.

"Miss Reed has shown more progress in one week than our last five specialists did in a year," Clara stated, her voice cold. "We have complete faith in her. Perhaps you should focus on your own... project."

Liam, who had been silent until now, sneered. "Faith in a hack. She's probably just putting on a good show. My Chloe is the one delivering real results. She's a true visionary, not a glorified repairwoman."

Ava didn't even look up from her work. She was deep in the code, her fingers dancing as she isolated and repaired corrupted data packets one by one. But she noticed something on the peripheral health monitor linked to Liam's wheelchair. A subtle, intermittent flicker in his own bio-signs. A sign of systemic stress.

"Your blood pressure is elevated, Liam," Ava said, her voice distant, as if commenting on the weather. "And there's a micro-tremor in your left hand. Is Chloe's AI causing some... feedback loops?"

Chloe's confident facade cracked. She instinctively glanced at Liam's hand, which he quickly hid under a blanket on his lap.

"Don't be ridiculous," Chloe snapped, a little too quickly. "He's just excited. We're on the verge of a breakthrough." She shot Liam a look, a silent warning.

Ava ignored them and focused back on Noah's system. With a final, delicate command, she stitched the last piece of a major subroutine back together.

On the main monitor, a flat line of code suddenly bloomed into a vibrant, flowing cascade of green.

And in his chair, Noah Hayes gasped. He slowly, deliberately, lifted his right leg, a movement that had been impossible for him just moments before. He then stood up, unsteadily at first, but then with growing confidence. He took a step. Then another. The limp was gone.

Clara cried out, a sound of pure joy, and rushed to her brother's side.

Liam and Chloe stared, their faces frozen in disbelief.

"That's... that's impossible," Chloe stammered.

At that exact moment, Ava's personal device chimed. It was a message from a private investigator she had hired, a man who owed her a favor. The message was simple: "Got it." Attached was a video file.

Ava opened it. It was security footage from a private pharmaceutical supplier, time-stamped from two days ago. It showed Chloe Davies receiving a package. She opened it, and after checking to see if she was alone, she used a syringe to draw a small amount of a clear, viscous liquid from an unmarked vial. She then carefully injected that liquid into one of the nutrient packs labeled for Liam's intravenous system.

Ava closed the video. She knew what that liquid was. It wasn't a poison. It was a powerful, short-term neuro-stimulant. It would create the illusion of recovery, allowing Liam to stand, maybe even walk for a few minutes. But it would also put an immense, unsustainable strain on his already fractured system. When it wore off, the crash would be catastrophic.

The one-month deadline for the bet was approaching. Noah's recovery was progressing at an incredible pace. He was already walking freely around the lab, his coordination returning with every passing hour.

The day of the wager arrived. The venue, the same grand ballroom from a month ago, was packed. The air was thick with anticipation. The media was there in full force, cameras at the ready. Liam and Chloe were already there, holding court, accepting premature congratulations.

Then, the main doors of the ballroom swung open.

The crowd fell silent.

Ava Reed walked in. And beside her, walking with a smooth, confident stride, was Noah Hayes. He looked strong, healthy, and completely healed.

The collective gasp in the room was audible. The cameras flashed, a storm of light capturing the shocked faces of Chloe Davies and Liam Thorne. Ava had won her side of the bet. The victory was absolute, undeniable, and utterly stunning.