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Piper pressed her lips together in a tight line. Well, wasn’t that a nightmarish thought?

This would be easier if Lionel were here.

Lionel, after all, had been her dad’s friend. No, not friend. Her dad could never fit in with the Harcourt social circles. Lionel had been her dad’s benefactor. And Piper had always felt like he thought of her in a doting kind of way, not quite avuncular but something mildly sentimental.

Certainly not a “Here, I got you a pony for your birthday” kind of way.

It was more a look in his eye acknowledging some connection.

But Piper already knew Lionel wouldn’t be there to advocate for her. He’d been overseas developing a spa retreat to go along with the Alabaster skin care line.

It was Lionel who had agreed that Piper should pick up her father’s mantle and continue their work in the lab. He had promised her the funding would be available.

But without Lionel there, would the other executives agree to this last push?

Piper stepped behind the lectern. “How do you do? So nice to see you all again.” Her voice was thick and she held her hand over her mouth as she tried to clear it. “Excuse me.” She tried a cough that seemed to do the job. “I have been speaking to you over the years about the progress our lab has made in finding a cure for Runker-Bailey Syndrome.”

“Just one moment,” the PA said.

Another moment was a reprieve in which Piper could work on loosening the vice that clamped her lungs.

Now that Piper was in her early thirties, she was starting to see the first signs of Runker-Bailey Syndrome in her own body. It was one of the reasons she’d been freaked out by the pauses that came on her. The ones that Piper had begun calling “Star gazing,” ever since Chanti’s tarot reading.

Star gazing seemed less of an existential threat.

Piper knew that she had the SNR1030P gene mutation since birth. But having it didn’t necessarily mean that it would turn into anything.

SNR1030P helped rid the body of damaged cells and regenerate tissue. It affected organs, nerves, and blood vessels. In the next few years, Piper could expect premature skin aging, muscle loss, and an impaired immune system. In a decade, organ complications and nerve damage. Two decades on, cell exhaustion, multisystem failures. Death came by sixty.

Piper’s dad’s death had been right on schedule.

It was too young to die.

Too young to leave her.

He had been so close to the cure when he passed.

Today was a major step in that direction.

Piper would be asking the executive board for money to give her this last push as she filed with the FDA.

Piper felt the pressure of this moment. It was a lot more money that she’d be asking Harcourt Alabaster to spend.

But she had to succeed.

Her life depended on it.

Chapter Seven

Ethan

Mrs. Amanda Harcourt of the Harcourt Alabaster dynasty was in mortal danger along with her driver.

For now, Ethan was the only one on the good-guy side of the equation who knew that.

A drugged driver at the wheel would surely pass out, leaving Mrs. Harcourt vulnerable, Ethan reasoned.

He had to believe the threat was going to meet the Alabaster limo further down the road because whatever was going down wasn’t supposed to be known by the partygoers.