“That was Marcus Vance,” I said, keeping my voice as quiet as possible.

“The Department of Energy oversight committee.”

Derek’s posture stiffened. “Why is the DOE calling you directly?”

“Our mother just filed a formal patent dispute,” I said.

“Through Mitchell Holdings.”

“They are claiming ownership of our microgrid IP.”

“And they’ve requested an immediate freeze on our federal grant money.”

Derek’s hands dropped to his sides, his knuckles turning white.

Priya stood up so quickly her chair scraped loudly against the linoleum floor.

Dr. Thorne and the other board members stopped talking and looked over at us.

“Is there an issue, Dr. Mitchell?” Thorne asked, his voice polite but sharp.

I swallowed the dry lump in my throat and looked at my brother.

“A minor administrative detail,” I told Thorne, forcing my voice to remain steady.

“My assistant will walk you through the lobby to sign the guest registry.”

Priya caught my eye and immediately nodded.

“Right this way, gentlemen,” she said, her voice bright despite the tension in her shoulders.

She ushered the board members out of the lab, her hand guiding the last man through the heavy oak door.