Chapter Twelve
Kim Medhurst
Nausea roiled in Kim’s gut as questions and possibilities continued to whizz through her mind. How much do they know? Do they know about the ygrene? Do they want to take it? What are they willing to do to get their hands on it? She swallowed hard, pressing her hands into the back of Smith’s seat to stop herself being jostled about too much—it seemed this situation had Chastain riled up enough to drive considerably faster and more erratically than a funeral cortege. She hoped the ygrene wasn’t getting flung around too much in the back—setting off another reaction was the last thing they needed right now. My God, if they’ve found me all the way up here, does that mean they know where I live? Where my lab is? Oh f**k—can I ever go home?
The fact she was worried,
