Sophia's POV
The number was forty seven million dollars.
I sat with that for a long time.
Not because it didn't feel real. Because it felt too real in a way that required careful handling. Like something fragile that had been carried a long distance and had finally arrived and you didn't want to drop it at the last step.
Forty seven million.
Thirty years of unjust enrichment calculated and documented and submitted to a civil court.
My parents had built a framework for cardiac mapping in a small flat in East London before I was born. They had registered a patent and believed in what they had made and then watched someone take it without asking and build a fortune on top of it.
And now a number existed that said what that had been worth.
Damien was very quiet beside me.
The room was
