Chapter 243

Chapter 243
Stella's POV

I left work exactly on time, my fingers tight around my phone as I navigated through evening traffic toward Nathan's lab. The address he'd sent was in the university district—a nondescript research building tucked between newer glass-and-steel structures. My heart hammered against my ribs, a rhythm that had nothing to do with the cold Seattle drizzle seeping through my coat.

The lab was on the third floor. I found Nathan waiting in the hallway, his expression unusually serious. He nodded toward a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only" and led me inside without a word.

The space was smaller than I'd expected—cluttered workbenches, humming equipment, the sharp smell of chemicals mingling with stale coffee. A man in his late fifties stood by a fume hood, his graying hair pulled back in a ponytail. He turned when we entered, and something in his tired eyes made my throat tighten.

"Stella, this is Finn," Nathan said quietly. "He used to work at CrestCore Pharma. He says he has information about that drug compound you asked me to investigate."

Finn's gaze swept over me with cautious curiosity. "Nathan mentioned you had questions about a targeted therapy drug. May I ask where you obtained the compound data?"

I'd prepared for this moment, rehearsed the words a hundred times. But standing there in the fluorescent light, facing a man who might have known my grandmother, my carefully constructed composure threatened to crack. I drew a slow breath, steadying myself.

"My biological grandfather founded CrestCore Pharma," I said. My voice came out flat, clinical. "My grandmother ran the research division. They're both dead now."

The silence that followed was absolute. Nathan's head snapped toward me, his eyes widening. Finn went very still, his weathered face draining of color.

"Jesus Christ." Finn sank onto a stool, his legs seeming to give out. "I worked under her for three years. She was..." He pressed his fingers to his eyes. "She was the best researcher I ever knew."

Nathan found his voice. "Stella, I don't understand. You said your name was Taylor. And Victor Mellon—"

"Is my biological father." The words tasted like poison. "But I wasn't raised as his daughter. I was switched at birth with another child. The woman who should have been a nanny became his wife, and her daughter took my place."

I watched their faces process this, saw the moment comprehension dawned. Nathan's expression shifted from shock to something darker—anger, perhaps, or pity. I couldn't bear either.

"That's why you're investigating," Finn said quietly. "You're trying to understand what happened to your family."

"I'm trying to understand what Victor did to destroy them." My hands clenched at my sides. "I know CrestCore Pharma collapsed. I know there were deaths, lawsuits. I need to know if Victor was involved."

Finn and Nathan exchanged a long look. Then Finn stood, moving to his computer with sudden purpose. "He was more than involved. He orchestrated the entire thing."

He pulled up files, old documents that made my vision blur. "Your grandmother developed a targeted cancer therapy. The efficacy was extraordinary—far beyond anything on the market at the time. But the adverse reactions were severe. Life-threatening in some cases. She knew the drug wasn't ready. She wanted to destroy the research, refuse to let it go to clinical trials."

"But someone overruled her," I said.

"Victor." Finn's voice hardened. "He wasn't the head of CrestCore then—that was your grandfather. But Victor had married Sophia, gained the family's trust. He used that position to go behind her back to the board of directors. Convinced them that CrestCore needed a breakthrough product or the company would fail."

Nathan leaned against the bench beside me. "Was the company really in that much trouble?"

"Yes and no." Finn pulled up financial records, stock reports. "There were internal conflicts, some failed product launches. But nothing fatal. Victor made it seem worse than it was, played on the board's fears. And he had another advantage—he'd been building relationships with several board members, promising them lucrative contracts if they sided with him."

My throat felt tight. "So they approved the drug over my grandmother's objections."

"They pushed it through fast-track approval. Your grandmother fought it every step of the way, but once Victor had the votes, there was nothing she could do." Finn's hands trembled slightly as he navigated through the files. "The drug went to market. And within six months, people started dying."

The room seemed to tilt. I gripped the edge of the workbench, forcing myself to stay present.

"Dozens of adverse event reports," Finn continued. "Patients experiencing organ failure, neurological damage. The lawsuits started piling up. And Victor—" His voice cracked. "Victor made sure every single case got maximum media attention. He leaked internal documents showing that your grandma had raised concerns. Made it look like she'd known the drug was dangerous and approved it anyway."

"He set her up." The words came out hollow.

"He destroyed her reputation and used the scandal to push your grandfather out. The board voted to remove him as CEO, installed Victor as interim leadership. And then—" Finn stopped, his face gray.

"Then my grandmother died," I finished.

He nodded slowly. "The official story was suicide. She jumped from the research facility roof. The news barely covered it—just a small mention in the local paper. Victor made sure it stayed quiet."

Nathan's hand found my shoulder. I barely felt it through the numbness spreading through my chest.

"Do you believe it was suicide?" I asked.

Finn met my eyes. "No. I don't. The day before she died, I saw her in the lab. It was late—past midnight—and she was working on a modified compound. She was exhausted, but determined. She told me she'd found a way to mitigate the adverse reactions, that she was going to present the solution to the board and demand a recall."

"She was going to fix it," I whispered.

"She was going to save lives and clear her name." Finn's voice shook. "And the next morning, she was dead."

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Somewhere in the building, a door slammed. The ordinary sounds of the world continuing while my understanding of it shattered and reformed.

"Even if we suspect murder," Nathan said carefully, "proving it after twenty-three years—"

"There's no physical evidence," I cut in. My voice sounded strange, distant. "No witnesses. No case."

"Actually," Finn said slowly, "there was a witness. Sort of."

My head snapped up.

Finn pulled up an old photo—a company event, people smiling in front of a CrestCore Pharma banner. He pointed to a young man in the back, nervous-looking, barely out of graduate school. "Someone told me he saw your grandma going up to the roof. She wasn't alone. There was a man with her."

"Who?" My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear my own voice.

"River."

"Where is he now?" I demanded.

"I don't know. He left the company a few months later, left the field entirely. I tried to contact him a few years ago, but all his old numbers were disconnected. He just vanished."

Nathan straightened. "But he's the key. If we can find him, get him to testify about what he saw—"

"It might not matter." I forced myself to think past the roaring in my head. "It's been over two decades. Statute of limitations. And even if we found him, even if he agreed to talk, would anyone believe him? Would it be enough to reopen the case?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered.

Finn zoomed in on River's face in the photo. I studied it, trying to memorize every feature. Something about him felt familiar, though I couldn't place why.

"I'll find him," I said quietly. "Whatever it takes."

"We'll help," Nathan said immediately. "Stella, you don't have to do this alone."