She went quiet. I hated how that word lodged in my chest—intentional. Someone knew exactly what they were doing. Someone had looked at a sick child and decided to ruin her life as an acceptable outcome.
Maybe even the goal. My fingers tightened around the edge of the bench. A thin c***k appeared in the old scar across my palm where flame had once bitten me. I forced my hand to relax.
“Document everything,” I said. “Screenshots. Time stamps. Backup to an external drive. Twice.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
I turned to the whiteboard and began writing, trying to make my thoughts move in straight lines instead of circles.
“Unknown substance X.
Consistent in all sampled batches from royal supply.
Not present in my original formulation.
Projected effects: systemic weakening, wolf–core suppression, po
