Chapter 64
Heidi observed Arthur's reaction with barely concealed satisfaction, her voice softening to a silken whisper.
"You must be exhausted after those meetings. And Caroline... well, she's probably busy with her own affairs." She paused delicately.
"Why don't I pick up the children? I'll take them somewhere special, get a cake—birthdays deserve proper celebration, don't they?"
Her suggestion was artfully crafted, simultaneously showing concern for Arthur while highlighting Caroline's apparent neglect.
The unspoken message hung in the air: a mother too consumed with her career to remember her own children's birthday.
Arthur's silence was all the permission she needed.
---
"Ms. White? Why are you picking us up today?" Logan's small face registered surprise at the kindergarten entrance.
Beside him, Layla clutched her backpack. "Where's Mommy?"
Heidi crouched down, taking each child by the hand with practiced tenderness. "She has something very important today, so she asked me to get you." Her smile widened. "And I've prepared a special surprise."
In the car, she presented two beautifully wrapped boxes from the back seat.
Logan's eyes widened with delight. "Wow! The LEGO Marvel Spidey Spider Tank!"
Layla hugged her gift—a limited-edition princess doll—to her chest.
"Do you like them?" Heidi watched their reactions in the rearview mirror as she started the car. "Let's go shopping for more toys. Your mom is so busy she forgot your birthday, but we won't let that happen, will we?"
Though phrased as comfort, her words planted seeds of doubt in their impressionable minds.
Logan's hands stilled on his new toy. He looked up, his voice small and uncertain. "Mommy doesn't want us anymore?"
Inwardly triumphant, Heidi's face arranged itself into a mask of sympathy. "Of course not! She just has her new career and colleagues now. She needs time."
She reached back to squeeze his hand. "Good children understand when grown-ups are busy, right?"
Her words sounded reasonable, yet reinforced a devastating conclusion in their young hearts: Mommy had new friends and didn't care about them anymore.
At that same moment, Caroline rushed into her modest apartment after finishing her lab meeting.
On her table sat an elegant fruit cake flanked by two carefully chosen presents—the very same LEGO set Logan had coveted and the exact limited-edition doll Layla had pointed out in a catalog months ago.
She wasn't typically sentimental, but in all these years, she had never missed the twins' birthday.
The clock had just struck six when she initiated the video call, her heart light with anticipation.
It rang for what felt like eternity before connecting. When it did, the screen revealed her children's faces against the chaotic backdrop of what appeared to be an enormous toy store. Heidi's voice floated in the background.
"Logan, Layla, happy birthday!" Caroline's eyes crinkled with genuine warmth as she turned the camera toward her preparations. "Look what I made for you! And I got—"
Her words died in her throat.
Logan turned away, refusing to look at the screen.
Layla, clutching her new doll—identical to the one waiting on Caroline's table—mumbled a flat, "Bye, Mommy."
The call disconnected with brutal finality.
Caroline stood frozen, phone in hand as the screen went dark. She stared at the cake with its cheerful "Happy Birthday" sign, her fingers tightening around her device until her knuckles whitened.
All her careful preparations, her love, undone by someone else's calculated words.
A soft ping broke her trance—a new email notification.
She opened it mechanically to find an official message from the International Neuroscience Alliance.
The attachment detailed the upcoming symposium schedule with her name and presentation prominently featured: "Glial Cell Microenvironment Simulation System" keynote speaker.
She was the only researcher from Lumaria invited to present.
Her phone vibrated with an incoming call from Ruben.
"Caroline! Did you see the email?" His voice boomed with unrestrained excitement. "That model of yours—I showed it to the board. Absolutely brilliant! You've demolished those outdated theories!"
His enthusiasm was infectious. "When you present, stand tall. Show your real talent. Let them see what Lumaria's scientists can do!"
As she listened to Dr. Flores's enthusiastic praise, Caroline felt an unexpected sting of emotion. She looked down at the name on the email—Hamilton, C..
Yes, she wasn't just Logan and Layla's mother. Not just Arthur Windsor's soon-to-be ex-wife.
She was Caroline Hamilton. And perhaps it was time the world remembered that.
The next morning, Zenith Technologies' laboratory hummed with a markedly different energy.
Gavin personally delivered a state-of-the-art sequencer, patting its gleaming casing. "Ms. Hamilton, your independent lab has been approved. All equipment will be installed today."
His normally reserved expression softened. "You've earned this."
Frank hovered nearby, his previous condescension replaced with obsequious deference. "Ms. Hamilton, we clearly underestimated your capabilities. From now on, all core projects are yours to lead—just name your requirements!"
Caroline acknowledged them with a brief nod, betraying nothing of her feelings.
As she headed back to her office, she passed the break room and caught fragments of excited whispers.
"Look, her paper from seven years ago. Still cutting-edge today!"
"No wonder Bennett values her so highly. We've got a genuine expert—"
"I knew it from her presence alone. She's extraordinary..."
Meanwhile, Arthur's sleek car pulled up outside Zenith Technologies. He had scheduled a meeting with Gavin regarding a potential collaboration, but his true purpose was to assess Caroline's situation firsthand.
Passing an office marked "Chief Engineer—Caroline," he paused. Through the partially open door, he glimpsed an invitation bearing the Alliance's prestigious logo on her desk.
"How did Caroline get invited to the Neuroscience Alliance conference?" he asked bluntly once settled in Gavin's office.
Gavin didn't look up from his tea preparation. "Just a courtesy slot from a partner," he replied with casualness. "She's new—good exposure, nothing significant."
Arthur scoffed quietly. What could she possibly understand about such advanced work?
At that exact moment, Heidi slipped into Caroline's empty office. Her eyes immediately locked onto the unlocked computer displaying a manuscript titled "Mechanisms of Glial Cells in Neural Repair" with "Hamilton, C." listed as lead author.
Assuming it was plagiarized research—what else could it be?—she quickly photographed the screen and sent it to Arthur with a message:
[Arthur, look—Caroline's still pretending. I've seen this paper on international academic sites. She didn't even change the title when copying it.]
When Arthur's phone vibrated, he glanced at the blurry image without really seeing it before deleting it entirely.
A woman who forgot her children's birthday couldn't possibly produce anything of value.