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Now,Ethan was the sole lead,basking in glory at the review while my father and I were trapped in wards.
Before,I'd have thought my father's illness was a coincidence,fate crowning Ethan.
Now,I couldn't help suspecting how much was actually orchestrated.
Thankfully,my father was revived,but he fell into a coma.
He'd always been cold but formidable in my eyes.I had never seen him so frail,so helpless.
I had resented him for being overly strict with me and I had felt hurt by his indifference,but he was still my hero.
Now,he was just a sick old man.
In that moment,I felt a new emotion toward Ethan:hatred.
When the crowd dispersed,I sat by my father's bed,studying his weary face.Unable to resist,I opened Ethan's secret account.
His latest post,from that evening:
"I was not born genius.I've faced countless failures,discouragement,moments I wanted to quit.But one person kept me going."
"As a kid,I lost someone.I thought I'd never see her again.I had no skills,just patience to run experiments over and over.I thought,if I could become famous and known to the public,maybe she'd come and find me."
"Thankfully,fate was kind to me.She not only saw me but came back to me."
"I'm so grateful."
I was the one who slaved through experiments with him,risked danger for him,helped him succeed.
But in his heart,the one who supported him,who carried him through,was only Olivia.
What was I?
Sudden grudge welled up in me.
I didn't regret my sacrifices or mind his deception.
But he couldn't treat us like garbage,used and discarded.
That night,I called Ethan, asking to meet him.He refused.
Maybe he feared complications,maybe guilt kept him away.What did I care?
I threatened,"Tomorrow's the review.If you don't come tonight,I'll go.If it affects the outcome,don't blame me."
As a lead researcher,I deserved a place there.But after the experiment,my life was ending.
He said my health made me unfit for the review and suggested omitting my name.
With death looming,a byline seemed meaningless,so I agreed.
While I fought cancer,he reaped success,proclaimed his love for Olivia,and never spared another thought for my lonely final days.
Or the lab accident I hadn't mentioned.
He was meticulous,and this result could affect his career for the next decade.Yet he was careless.
Was he overconfident,thinking it was a done deal?Or softened by romance?
"What do you want?"
"Meet me in an hour,downstairs at the hospital café.Come or don't.The paper doesn't have my name—I don't care if it passes."
He growled my name with hate,"Stella Moore."
I laughed.If I had a middle name,it might've sounded angrier.
