Chapter 29
The project was daunting. Every year, about 8 million newborns worldwide suffer from serious genetic disorders, most diagnosed months or even years after birth—long past the optimal intervention window.
The challenge was overwhelming: over 7,000 different genetic diseases, with traditional testing being slow, laborious, and wildly expensive.
But if successful...
Early screening could reduce disability rates by over 90%, easing burdens on countless families. And as project lead, Josephine would gain worldwide recognition.
"But if you fail..." Cedric let the implication hang in the air. "Then I've overestimated you."
She understood the unspoken terms. This was a high-stakes gamble. Win, and she'd reclaim her former glory. Lose, and she'd have nothing.
"I'm in."
Cedric's lips quirked upward. "Not afraid of losing?"
"Not anymore."
She had nothing left to lose anyway. Better to go out in a blaze of glory than waste away with nothing. Life was just a series of gambles anyway.
She lifted her head, clutching the documents like a lifeline. If this project succeeded, she'd have leverage to negotiate with Gideon. Even a reason to ask Cedric for help.
"I'll give it everything I have." For the project, and for herself.
Cedric eyed her briefly before looking away. "I don't care what people say. I care what they do. Results are what matter to me."
"I understand." Josephine wouldn't make grand promises. Success would speak for itself.
She paused, then smiled—genuinely, for the first time in ages.
"You seem happy," Cedric remarked, surprised.
Josephine shook her head, the smile lingering. "You wouldn't understand."
"How do you know if you don't explain?"
"A drowning person just wants to grab the rope that might save them."
Josephine wasn't as calm as she appeared. All this time, she'd been pretending everything was fine with Gideon, forcing herself to temporarily forget his betrayal. And the child she'd lost. But she was human. How could she truly forget? Without leverage, isolated, she had no choice but to endure.
The memorial hall fell quiet. Josephine sat with the documents in hand. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity."
Cedric shrugged. "Don't thank me."
"Why not?"
"Thank yourself." If Josephine hadn't possessed exceptional talent, Cedric would never have entrusted her with this project. "Everything you can hold onto now is because of your own abilities."
His words struck something deep inside her. With Gideon, she'd lost the brilliant career that should have been hers. Lost her glory. Became an anonymous housewife. Over time, she'd grown accustomed to it. Accepted being ordinary, dependent on Gideon—until his affair had shattered that illusion.
For several nights, she'd felt disoriented, filled with uncertainty. Like she'd walked into a dead end. Going forward meant certain doom, but turning back... The path behind had already disappeared.
Until Cedric appeared.
Night gradually gave way to dawn. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the cracks in the memorial hall, illuminating dust particles that danced in the light like tiny living creatures.
Josephine watched, transfixed.
Cedric followed her gaze. "The first ray of sunlight is actually the warmest of the day."
"Isn't noon the warmest?"
"When you're in darkness and suddenly see a beam of light, you treat it like salvation," Cedric said. "But if you keep walking forward, you'll find many more lights—brighter and warmer ones."
Was he trying to teach her something?
Josephine pondered this, then asked, "I always thought you disliked me."
"I do," he replied frankly.
His bluntness surprised her. "Then why would you..." She waved the documents.
Cedric sat on the floor with his long legs bent, seemingly unbothered by the dust. He stood up, lightly brushing off his pants. "As I said, I value talent."
Josephine had no response to that. Better to stick to business.
"Actually, I already have some preliminary ideas for this project," she said, sitting beside him and opening the planning diagram.
She didn't notice a strand of her hair falling onto his hand that rested on his knee. The hair brushed against his skin, causing a slight tickle.
"Look, according to our traditional approach..." She rambled on about her plans, then looked up to find Cedric with his head down, lost in thought. "Are you even listening?"
Cedric raised his head, casually withdrawing his hand as her hair brushed his skin again. He cleared his throat. "If I'm giving you this project, I'm giving you absolute authority over it."
"What do you mean?" That he wouldn't be involved in decision-making?
"Exactly what you're thinking." Cedric always followed one principle: don't use someone you don't trust, and don't mistrust someone you use.
"In scientific research, I must admit I'm not your equal. Professional matters should be handled by professionals."
Everyone wants autonomy in their work—the freedom to make choices. Josephine was no exception.
"I won't let you down."
"Good."
Cedric's gaze fell on her hair, which had fallen onto the documents, partially obscuring the text. His fingers twitched slightly as he reached out to brush it aside.
"It's getting light out. We should continue this another time."
Josephine finally noticed her stray hair. She quickly pulled a hair tie from her pocket and gathered her long hair into a loose messy bun.
"That's better. Even though you trust me, I'd still like to share some ideas with you now. Once I have your input, I'll feel more confident moving forward."
She was persistent.
After a moment's silence, Cedric nodded. "Go ahead."
They ended up talking for over an hour, with Josephine speaking so enthusiastically she became parched.
"Maybe we should stop here for today?"
Cedric's lips curved slightly. "Yes, let's stop here."
They gathered their things and prepared to leave. Josephine called out to him, then hesitated. "Actually... never mind. Let's go."
Cedric stopped. "I hate it when people don't finish their thoughts."
"It's nothing, really."
Cedric glanced at her, then turned toward the door. As he opened it, he suddenly looked back at her, silhouetted in the morning light.
"I still want to tell you something—your taste is truly terrible."
Josephine was taken aback.
"I mean, your taste in men."
Then he was gone.
Josephine looked down at her phone, caught between laughter and disbelief. So all his cold treatment and mockery had been because he thought she had poor taste in men?