Chapter 323

Chapter 323

Calista closed the email and sat at her computer for a long time.

Outside, Nordic sunlight fell clear and gentle across the garden. Children's laughter drifted from afar as they chased and played.

Go back.

Those words dropped into her heart like a stone, sending ripples spreading outward.

That was where her academic career began, where all her dreams started. Using what she'd learned to do something for that land—it was a wish carved into her bones.

But...

That evening, she tucked Ethan's blanket around him and prepared to turn off the light as usual.

"Mom."

Ethan's voice came muffled through the darkness.

"Will we... always live here?"

Calista's heart sank slightly. She sat back on the bed, stroking his soft hair. "Why ask that all of a sudden?"

"Today teacher said next semester we're going camping in the forest and learning to pitch tents. I want to be in Eric's group—he's the best at pitching tents." Ethan's tone held that simple childhood planning and anticipation for the future.

Calista fell silent.

How could she tell him they might soon leave here, leave his good friend Eric, leave that forest camping trip he'd been looking forward to?

"Ethan," she began carefully, "what if... we moved back to Seaside City? Grandma and Grandpa are there, and lots of good food."

Ethan was quiet in the darkness for a moment, then said with an almost aggrieved nasal tone, "But Seaside City doesn't have Eric. Or the pigeons at City Hall square. I want to feed the pigeons."

That simple sentence was like a soft blade, cutting precisely into the most vulnerable part of Calista's heart.

She could conquer the most complex viruses, construct the most massive scientific models, yet couldn't easily say "no" to her own child.

That night, Calista couldn't sleep.

She stood before the study's floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the silent night, feeling powerless for the first time.

The pinnacle of her career and Ethan's childhood sat on opposite ends of a scale. She didn't know how to balance them.

The study door opened gently.

Gary walked in, still carrying the night's chill—clearly just returned from outside. He didn't turn on the light, just walked to her side and followed her gaze out the window.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

Calista didn't turn around, just hummed in response.

"Because of the Academy's email?"

Calista's body stiffened imperceptibly, then relaxed. She'd forgotten—probably nothing in this world could be hidden from him.

"How did you know?"

"The Academy called me this afternoon." Gary's tone was casual, as if discussing something mundane. "They were afraid you'd refuse. Wanted me to persuade you."

Calista said nothing.

The word "persuade" coming from his mouth carried a strange self-mockery.

"It's your dream." Gary stated a fact. "And the nation's highest recognition of you. No reason to refuse."

"But Ethan doesn't want to go." Calista's voice was soft, tinged with a weariness even she hadn't noticed.

Gary was silent for a moment.

He turned, picked up paper and pen from the desk, and quickly sketched something in the dim light.

"Look at this."

He handed her the paper.

It wasn't a complex chart, just a simple timeline divided in half.

"The European academic year runs from late August to early June. Substantial overlap with the domestic calendar and plenty of holidays."

Gary's finger tapped the timeline, his explanation as structured as a project report.

"The national lab's setup phase needs at least six months. During that time, you only need regular video conferences for remote oversight. Your European team can maintain daily operations without you."

"Once the lab is operational, your focus shifts domestically. We can schedule domestic time from June to December each year. Perfectly covering the main domestic semester and Europe's long summer break."

"Ethan can complete fall semester in Seaside City. Before Christmas, we come back. He can spend Christmas with his friends here, then finish spring semester. Neither side gets neglected."

"As for transportation," he paused, adding in a matter-of-fact tone, "the Frost Group's private routes can arrange direct flights to Seaside City anytime. Ten hours—we're home. Just the time it takes to sleep on a plane."

He finished in one breath. The study fell quiet.

Calista looked at the simple yet thorough plan on that paper, then up at Gary.

He hadn't decided for her.

He'd simply broken down the seemingly unsolvable dilemma into executable steps.

He'd transformed the "either-or" blocking her path into a feasible "have both" solution.

"I thought..." Calista said quietly, "you'd want me to stay home."

After all, the Frost family's roots were in Seaside City.

Gary looked at her, his dark eyes fathomless in the night.

"What I want," he said slowly, word by word, "is for you to go wherever you want to go, do whatever you want to do."

"And I," Gary paused, his tone taking on something he himself hadn't noticed—almost placating, "handle logistics."

He took back the paper, folded it, and pocketed it—the motion identical to when he'd put away the ring.

"I checked. Zephyrian forest camping is usually late May. There's time."

Calista's heart was gently struck by something in that instant.

One night later, life was as calm as warm water.

Project Spark Institute's European headquarters ran smoothly. Domestic lab preparations officially launched via online meetings.

Calista's days were divided into precise blocks—busy and fulfilling.

She began seriously transforming Gary's timeline sketch into an executable schedule.

That afternoon, she finished a data meeting early to pick up Ethan from school.

Calista immediately spotted Ethan holding hands with a little boy, chattering away about something.

She smiled and walked toward them, about to speak when her peripheral vision caught something discordant.

A black van was parked outside the corner café.

Very ordinary, yet very not.

Because this van had been parked in the same spot yesterday. And the day before.

The windows had dark tinting—couldn't see inside.

Calista's heart tightened slightly.

She calmly took Ethan's hand, her other arm around his small shoulder, shielding him with her body.

"Ethan, what do you want for dinner?" she asked in her usual tone.

"Meatballs! With lingonberry jam!" Ethan looked up excitedly, completely oblivious to Calista's unease.

On the drive home, Calista's eyes never left the rearview mirror.

That black van followed at a steady distance.

Not her imagination.

Calista's palms began to sweat, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

She could face any academic challenge, any business pressure, but Ethan was her only weakness.

Her mind raced, calculating routes, considering options. Drive to the police station or straight to their secure residence?

Which choice posed the least risk to Ethan?

Just as her thoughts spiraled, a traffic light ahead turned red.

Her car stopped.

Almost simultaneously, the black van accelerated from behind, swerved sharply, and blocked her path.

The screech of brakes tore through the quiet afternoon.

Doors flung open. Several men in black jackets with menacing expressions jumped out and headed straight for her car.

Calista's heart leapt to her throat.

She instinctively turned to shield Ethan in the back seat.

"Mom?" Ethan was frightened by the sudden change, his voice breaking.

"Don't be scared. Close your eyes." Calista's voice trembled, but she fought to stay calm.

She didn't even have time to grab her phone.

The men had already surrounded them. One held something aimed at the car window.

But just as he prepared to smash it—

Everything changed.

Black sedans appeared from nowhere, charging in from all directions with almost savage aggression, instantly forming an outer perimeter.

Doors opened in unison. Men in black suits with earpieces poured out, their movements synchronized and efficient like a movie scene.

The thugs surrounding Calista's car were clearly stunned.

Before they could react, the suited men closed in like ghosts. No unnecessary words. Not even a challenge.

Just dull thuds of body impacts and short grunts of pain.

Less than twenty seconds.

The previously aggressive thugs were all subdued on the ground, unable to move.

The whole thing happened so fast it was dizzying.

Calista sat in her car, watching through the window this scene straight out of a Hollywood blockbuster, her mind blank.

A black Rolls-Royce glided up and stopped beside her car.

The window lowered, revealing Gary's flawless profile.

He didn't look at the men on the ground. His gaze penetrated the car window, landing on her face, brows slightly furrowed.

"Frightened?"

Calista opened her mouth but couldn't speak.

He pushed open his door and stepped out. Leo followed, handing him a phone.

Gary took the phone and said just one word: "Interrogate."

Then he walked to Calista's car, opened the driver's door, leaned in first to unbuckle Ethan's seatbelt in the back seat, and lifted him out.