The next day began with quiet.
Eleanor remained stable—her vitals holding, her breath deep and even. She hadn't woken again, but her body no longer looked like it was fighting to survive. She was resting now. Truly resting.
Ethan spent the morning monitoring her reactions in silence, his notes growing longer by the hour. Micro-adjustments to the liquid were working as planned. The compound was still replicating nutrients in her bloodstream at a predictable pace.
She was no longer dying.
But something else was growing. Not in her body. In the halls.
In the stares from nurses that lingered too long. In the way security guards now passed by the lab a little more often. In the way Rei came into the room quieter than usual, as if afraid he'd interrupt something he didn't mean to .
And then, at exactly 3:07 PM, they came back.
Ethan was at his lab bench, halfway through analyzing a molecular bond sample, when the knock came—sharp and cold.
He closed the cap on the vial and didn't turn. "It's open."
The door swung in.
Dr. Lianne Mercer stepped through first. Her expression was more composed than yesterday. Her tone, more formal. Behind her came the two men in suits—same polished shoes, same quiet threat behind their calm eyes.
"Mr. Davis," she said.
Ethan didn't answer. He set the vial into the refrigeration unit and locked the hatch.
One of the men stepped forward. "We were hoping for a more cooperative meeting today."
Ethan turned slowly, leaning against the workbench. His expression was unreadable. "You got your answer yesterday."
"And we're hoping you've had time to reconsider," the man replied.
Mercer placed a folder on the table near him. "We reviewed your wife's case more thoroughly. Without access to the details of the solution, we can't approve or replicate treatment for any other patient. If we submit this to the hospital board as an unregulated compound… your wife could be removed from care entirely."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Is that a threat?"
"No," she said smoothly. "It's an outcome."
The second man—taller, more confident today—stepped in. "You're holding back a revolutionary advancement, Ethan. Don't pretend this is just about your family anymore. What you made has the potential to save thousands. Possibly more. This isn't a secret you get to hoard."
"I'm not hoarding it," Ethan said, voice quiet but sharp. "I'm protecting it."
The man scoffed. "From who?"
"From people like you," Ethan snapped. "From people who don't care who dies, as long as the price tag is right."
Mercer stepped closer, her voice low. "This compound—this miracle—doesn't belong in a drawer. You have no right to bury it in grief."
Ethan's voice was steel now. "You think grief is the reason I'm not giving it to you?" He pushed off the bench, standing taller. "Do you have any idea what went into making it? What it cost?"
He pointed toward the corner of the lab where Rei sat, clutching his sketchpad. "Do you know how many nights that boy slept on the floor while I worked until my hands bled? Do you know what I watched my wife become? What I had to do to buy enough time to make this?"
Mercer's expression wavered—just a fraction.
Ethan stepped closer. "I've already buried someone I love to make this possible. You will not bury it in red tape and quarterly reports."
There was silence for a long moment.
Then the taller man cleared his throat. He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded document—legal-sized, sealed with an official stamp.
"Last chance," he said. "We file this injunction, and the hospital takes control of Eleanor's case. You'll be legally barred from administering anything undocumented."
He dropped it on the bench.
"You'll be removed from the lab. Your research seized."
Ethan stared at the paper. His hands didn't move. "You think threatening me will make me cooperate?" he asked.
"No," the man said. "But we think it'll make you desperate."
They left after that.
No raised voices. No slamming doors. Just silence—and the dull thud of the injunction on the counter.
Ethan stood there, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. He didn't look at Rei. He didn't move. His mind spun, rage and panic twisting into knots that coiled tighter and tighter.
They were coming for his work. They were coming for her.
And now… time was no longer on his side.