“Well, I told you I’d just rip the Band-Aid off quick and tell you straight. But keep in mind, if there’s another round of layoffs—and I’m not aware of one, to be clear, but I’m just saying, nothing is set in stone. Just keep up the good work and all will be fine. And be sure to give me a status report on time this Friday; I’ve got to roll up my monthly and send it to headquarters.”

“Of course.” Juan was more than happy to go back to work. And grateful to be allowed to continue it.

###

It was nearly seven in the evening, and as usual, Juan was still in the office. The DNA sequencing machine had just spit out its report on the latest tissue sample, and he was studying the columns of data. The goal was to glean meaning from any differences between the latest samples, trace the pattern of changes, and map the mutations to specific genes. It was at times mind-numbing work, but Juan lost himself in it.

A metallic sound caught Juan’s attention. The knob to his office door turned and the door opened slowly. Steve Chalmers poked his head in and his surprised expression was quickly replaced with a broad smile as he asked, “Doing anything fun?”

Juan pushed back from the computer monitor and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Not particularly. I’ve actually reverted back to automated Sanger sequencing because this data just isn’t adding up.”

Steve walked over and plopped himself onto the overstuffed beige armchair on the opposite side of Juan’s cluttered desk. He was in his forties but didn’t look it as he raked his hand through his blond hair. Although Steve was now leading a large team of researchers, he always exuded a carefree attitude.

It sometimes made Juan wonder if he himself was overly fussy. Perhaps he needed a hobby. Or a new girlfriend. An older one. Maybe.

“I don’t get you oncology types,” Steve said. “The whole topic of cancer seems so… morbid.” He laughed and jabbed his index finger in Juan’s direction. “I have a spot open on my team, if you’re thinking about a change of pace. Besides, the FDA is such a bitch when it comes to clinical trials for cancer treatments. Between the government hassling us over regulations, the few folks who have the stomach for oncology research, and the cost of bringing any treatments to market, it’s sometimes a wonder why pharmaceutical companies even bother.”

Juan shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “I doubt anyone goes into oncology without it being a calling of sorts. For me, it’s personal.”

Steve gave an understanding nod. “I’m sorry. I remember you telling me that—”

“Don’t be sorry.” Juan waved dismissively. “Besides, you never visit unless you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”