The bathroom was mercifully empty, giving me a few precious minutes of solitude to collect my thoughts. I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. The man looking back at me appeared calm, composed even, but I could see the calculation in my own eyes. The gears were turning.
I'd survived the first assault on my credibility, but Evelyn was right—this was just the opening move. My opponents would regroup during this recess, coordinate their strategies, and come back with something more sophisticated than unsubstantiated accusations about human experimentation.
The question was: how do I win a game where I'm fundamentally outmatched?
