The glass doors of Thorn Group's research facility slid open with a hushed swoosh. Olivia followed Alexander's long stride down a sterile corridor lit by cool LED panels. The air smelled faintly of ozone and antiseptic. Somewhere beyond the next bulkhead, concentrated botanical extracts—his greatest obsession—waited for them.
“Dr. Chen is expecting us," Alexander said, voice clipped. His free hand tapped the side of his head where dull pain pulsed intermittently. Each step seemed measured, as though he feared provoking another tremor.
Olivia swallowed. The laboratory's gleaming surfaces, high-tech analyzers, and rows of sealed vials reminded her too much of the night she had saved him amid the blaze. Then the ring on his finger, the phantom pain—memories she'd buried resurfaced now, raw
