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???: Criss Cross.
Two thumbs up emojis followed.
Weird. Something about this felt familiar, like I’d heard from this particular weirdo before. Maybe it was the guy who’d requested feet pics. I debated simply blocking the number.
Nah. Curiosity got the better of me again. I texted back.
Me: Who is this?
I waited a while,but Bear Man never answered.
I decided to do a quick web search forcriss cross.I found an old singer group called Kris Kross, so…maybe it was a reference to them? Probably not. “Criss Cross” was also a song by the Rolling Stones. The definition of criss-cross was something along the lines of a meandering path that zigzagged. And then there was a waffle-cut potato chip labeled Criss Cross, too.
There were too many weird possibilities. It was probably the dude’s name, like the music group, only spelled differently. Whatever.
I closed the texts and tried to write, but whatever inspiration I might have had earlier was gone.
And now I was in the mood for potato chips.
There was only one possible course of action—I needed Harold to take me to the store.
THIRTY-FOUR
GABRIEL
I stared at the vial of electric yellow fluid.
Incremental adjustments in temperature had transformed its appearance from murky swamp water to the vitamin B-infused urine hue of Layana’s favorite carbonated beverage.
Unfortunately, the sample remained otherwise unchanged. The stability was encouraging, but there was no improvement in metabolic consumption.
I was no closer to my goal.
“What transformation do you require?” I asked the sample.
I smiled to myself, surprised to hear my own voice. It wasn’t as if the fluid could talk back.
“She’s transforming me in every way possible,” I said.
It was unsettling, yet not entirely an unpleasant revelation. Instigators were required in science to propel progress forward. Without outside force I, like the sample, would remain stagnant.
“What happens if I throw caution to the wind, accept Layana’s suggestion, and assume telling my sister the truth could somehow benefit her?”
It could harm her. But I would never know if I didn’t tell her.
My instinct said to stick to the safe option, to the steady equilibrium I had carefully crafted in every aspect of my life butmy work. Here, I took chances because they were required. I followed along with Pamela’s plans to make this merger happen, because if I didn’t, my work would never reach the world stage.
Recklessness was paying off. Everything was going according to plan.
The yellow liquid taunted me, pushing me to follow this twisting path away from the tried-and-true safety of the main road.
I poured a portion of the liquid into a new vial, capped it off, and shook it. A whirlpool formed in the center of the fluid, a violent storm.
Something unexpected happened. Tiny white crystals formed in the eye of that storm, building slowly one on top of another. I kept the motion going, afraid if I let it stop now, the crystals would fall apart.
Once the crystals ceased their growth, I slowly let the liquid settle.
Cautiously optimistic about the newly formed substance, I checked a sample on the microscope.
