Chapter 2

A ripple of confusion went through the press corps. They looked from me to Mark, their pens poised, a scent of scandal in the air. This was not the choreographed corporate update they had expected.

Mark' s public smile was a mask of steel, but his eyes were blazing with fury.

"What are you talking about, honey?" he said, the pet name a weapon meant to belittle me, to frame this as a domestic squabble.

"She' s clearly overwrought," Alana Vance added quickly, stepping closer to Mark as if to protect him. "The pressure of this pandemic is getting to everyone."

A few of the older reporters nodded, their faces showing a mix of pity and dismissal. They' d seen this before. The brilliant but unstable woman, cracking under the strain. It was a tired, easy narrative.

"She' s just throwing a tantrum," a journalist from a tabloid whispered to his colleague, loud enough for me to hear. "Probably wants a new purse."

The laughter was quiet, but I heard it. My face burned, but not with shame. It was rage. In my past life, this humiliation would have crippled me. I would have folded, apologized, and let Mark lead me away to be scolded in private.

This time, I stood my ground. The whispers of the crowd, the condescending looks, they didn' t matter anymore. All that mattered was the truth.

"I am not overwrought, Dr. Vance," I said, looking directly at her. "And I am not throwing a tantrum. I am making a professional announcement."

I turned my gaze back to Mark. He had dropped the pretense of the concerned husband. His face was a thundercloud.

"Evelyn, stop this. Right now," he commanded in a low, dangerous voice that only I could hear. "You are making a fool of yourself. Of us."

"There is no 'us' anymore, Mark," I stated, my voice ringing with a finality that surprised even me. "I am officially severing all professional ties with OmniWell. My research, my data, my prototypes-they are no longer associated with this company."

The room erupted. Camera flashes went off like a string of firecrackers. Reporters were shouting questions all at once.

"Dr. Reed, what does this mean for the vaccine timeline?"

"Are you saying OmniWell can' t produce the vaccine without you?"

"Is there a conflict with your husband?"

Mark held up his hands, trying to regain control, but the situation had spiraled away from him. He looked at me, a silent, furious threat in his eyes. He mouthed the words, You will regret this.

I met his glare without flinching. The man I had once loved, the man I had died for, was gone. Or rather, he had never been there at all. I had just been in love with a fantasy. The man standing in front of me was a stranger, an enemy.

"Mark," I said, stepping right up to the podium and speaking into the cluster of microphones. "You want to tell them about the delays? Go ahead. Tell them why you think Alana Vance' s cheaper, less effective antiviral is a better short-term investment than a universal vaccine. Tell them how you plan to sell treatments instead of a cure."

His face went pale. Alana gasped, looking at him in panic.

"That' s a lie! An outrageous accusation!" she sputtered.

"Is it?" I asked, my voice cold. "I have the data. All of it. And as of ten minutes ago, it' s no longer on OmniWell' s servers."

Mark lunged forward and grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh. "You have no idea what you' re doing," he hissed, his charming facade completely gone, replaced by raw, ugly anger. "I will destroy you for this. I will ruin you."

I looked down at his hand on my arm, then back up into his eyes. I felt no fear. Only a profound, cleansing sense of release.

"You already did," I said softly. I pulled my arm free from his grasp. "And I' m not going to let you do it again."

With that, I turned my back on him, on Alana, on the chaos of the press conference, and walked away.