The Natural Healing Influencer

The nurse had left a blanket on the chair in Mrs. Sterling’s suite. Everyone on the floor knew I stayed after one of her episodes. Julian used to put that blanket around my shoulders and kiss my temple. Tonight, he didn’t look at me. I had spent thirteen hours keeping his mother alive. My patented cell-regeneration therapy had worked again, and I had charged his family and their circle only what the treatment cost. The treatment had kept me beside her bed for all thirteen hours. By the end, my hands felt heavy and my eyes would barely focus. Mrs. Sterling was stable. She was breathing on her own. That should have been enough. “My skin feels so tight, Harper.” Mrs. Sterling shifted against the propped-up pillows. “And the cost. Julian, darling, three million dollars for one cycle? It feels like extortion.” My hand stopped on the vitals monitor. I had put over thirty million dollars of my own money into the patent. Three million barely covered the materials and lab time. I had subsidized the rest. Senator Davis lifted his brandy from the plush sofa. “She’s right, Julian. The optics are terrible. People want healing, not a corporate invoice. My donors are asking about my connection to Sterling Medical.” He was one of the first people I’d saved, two years ago. For free. Julian finally turned, then looked straight past me to his mother. “I know, Mother. We’re addressing it. The board wants a new direction. Something warmer.” The suite door opened. Chloe Adams came in wearing soft linen and a camera-ready smile. Julian had spent weeks promoting her “natural healing” brand. She held up a small glass bottle. “True healing doesn’t come with a price tag. It comes from the earth.” She dabbed oil onto Mrs. Sterling’s wrists. Lavender and something sweet filled the room. “Just breathe, Eleanor. Let your body’s own wisdom take over.” Mrs. Sterling inhaled dramatically and her face softened. “Oh, that’s lovely. I feel better already.” The oil had given her a scent and a suggestion. The senator nodded. Julian smiled at Chloe. The cell-regeneration IV kept feeding into his mother’s arm beside him. No one mentioned the cell-regeneration therapy still running through Mrs. Sterling’s IV. They watched Chloe rub another drop into her wrist. “You see?” Julian turned to me. “This is the future, Harper. We need empathy, not cold data. Chloe’s team will take the west-wing lab for her new product line. Clear out your old equipment.” My late mentor had built that lab and left it to me. Julian had already promised it to Chloe. Every calibrated freezer and every numbered sample inside belonged to the work my mentor and I had begun together. Julian called all of it old equipment. I walked out without answering him. In the marble hallway, the senator’s aide smirked. “Looks like the queen’s been dethroned.” I passed him and headed for the elevators. Glass shattered at the far end of the hall. I stopped. The sound had come from the west wing. From my lab. I turned and ran toward it.