Arthur stepped forward, his hand still resting on his leather briefcase.

“Dr. Sterling, we were just leaving,” Arthur said.

“I am afraid Evelyn cannot leave just yet,” Dr. Sterling said.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, near the projector screen.

The security guards stood near the exit, their arms crossed over their chests.

“We have received a grave academic complaint,” Dr. Sterling said.

He looked at me, his eyes cold behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

“An hour ago, the Dean’s office received a file from an anonymous source,” Dr. Sterling said.

“It contains your primary research data, Evelyn.”

“I have my data right here,” I said, holding up my laptop.

“The file we received is different,” Dr. Sterling said.

“It shows a chemical synthesis that is highly toxic.”

Hunter took a step forward, his boots squeaking on the linoleum.

“I tried to stop her, Dr. Sterling,” Hunter said.

His voice was thick with false emotion.

“She was desperate to get the patent before the fiscal year ended,” Hunter said.

“She knew the safety trials would take another eighteen months.”

I stared at my husband, my hands shaking.