I bark out a laugh. I don’t know why.
“There’s no patent under your name,” the woman with the braid says.
“No. It’s under my husband’s name. It’s funny. I gave it to him as a birthday gift I don’t think he really appreciated it.” She sounds a little wistful. “Maybe it’s because I described it by its patent number. I don’t think he ever looked it up.”
My mother smiles, a smile meant just for me. “He was an artist, you know. They don’t think like scientists. Fortunately, we had a daughter who’s always had the ability to think like both.”
Sweet lord. I practically burst into tears.
Tommy’s face hardens. He doesn’t like the reference to me. It makes him nervous. He extends his arm. The gun is pointed straight at my mother’s chest.
“Leave her alone,” I say.
“You stupid little nobody,” Tommy says to me. “Don’t you know she killed your father?”
I shoot a wild look at my mother.
She winces.
“It’s true. More playing God,” my mother says.
“Mom!” It’s a sob torn from my throat.
“I sent him after the Plisskens,” she says. For the first time in, like, forever, she touches me. It’s her hand on my hand. I don’t pull away.
“I said something stupid to him. I said, ‘Austin, you have to stop them. No matter what.’”
Tommy is laughing to himself. He’s enjoying this part.
“Your dumbass father took it literally,” he says. “And they talk about scientists not getting human nuance.”
“I wasn’t sure what they would do,” my mother says. “I’d just expelled them from the company. I told them I was going to have them arrested. They were unbalanced. Like this tattooed buffoon here.” She flips a manicured hand at Tommy. “Mentally unbalanced. I was worried for their son. I sent your father after them. Rainy night … and you’ve seen the road. He caught up with them and there was a terrible accident. Both cars went down the incline. I was just behind them with security.… There was a horrible fire. They were all dead when I got there.”
“Listen,” I say, and again my voice betrays me by wobbling. “I helped Solo. He sent everything out. All the documentation on Adam. All the rest.”
My mother is not surprised. “I thought it might be something like that. Well, if that’s the case, Dr. Holyfield, you and your little band of mediocrities are wasting your time, aren’t you?”
“We don’t have any proof he sent anything,” Tommy says. “And as of a few minutes ago, nothing had hit the Internet.”
I’m in the difficult position of hoping for two opposite things at once. If Solo has sent the information out and Tommy realizes it, he’ll have no reason to do anything worse: The jig will be up.
On the other hand, my mother will probably be arrested along with Tommy.
And why hasn’t the information been sent? Where is Solo?
“We have to make this look like suicide,” Tommy says thoughtfully. He scans the office, snaps his fingers. “Murder-suicide! She has to kill the girl and then herself.”
“Why, exactly, would I be doing that?” my mother asks.
Tommy’s cronies all look troubled and thoughtful. But no one is exactly objecting.
“You fought,” Tommy says. “Everyone knows your daughter hates you.”
“That’s not true!” I cry.
“She’s found out the truth.” Tommy grins. “About how you used her as a lab rat for the healing gene.” He’s pleased with his solution. He narrows his eyes at my mother. “And speaking of finding out the truth, how is it you found out about our … efforts?”
She responds with a slight smile. “You’re not the only one with secret surveillance cameras, Thomas.”