“However you uncovered this molecular structure and devised this cure, you’ve done it. You’ve not only saved these children, but you may have extended the average life expectancy by another several decades. If there is any justice in the world, your name will appear in our history books. I’d like to think I speak for all of us when I offer you my sincerest congratulations. The Refugee Program is in good hands.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Ify says. “This would not have been possible without the aid of my assistant, Grace Leung. She was essential during the course of our research. Without her, these children would be without a cure.”

“Well noted. I think we can adjourn this hearing,” says Langrishe, sparing only the slightest of glances for Director Towne, who continues to stew. “Dr. Diallo’s testimony has been more than satisfying. Now, hearing adjourned.” He presses at a few buttons on the desk before him before rising to his feet. Amid the shuffle, he looks up and winks at Ify, who bows her head slightly, then turns and walks back to the door, waiting for the feeling to hit. Waiting to feel like a hero, like the top of her class, like she is the reason thousands of people are now alive and well in Alabast. She waits for the ecstasy, for the elevation of her heart rate, for her cheeks to flush with blood. She waits for her fingers and toes to tremble in shocked rejoicing. She waits for tears of gratitude.

Even as she heads back to her office, Grace beside her, glowing with guarded admiration, Ify still doesn’t feel it.

Grace begs leave, and Ify lets her go. In another time, Grace would be talking excitedly with all her friends in a group chat about having played so essential a part in the miracle of scientific discovery. But now, she is more likely than not heading off somewhere to sit alone in silence. And to process everything that has happened to her over the past several months. Instead of chatting with her colleagues and peers, she has left Ify alone to wait for the warmth of victory to surge through her.

Staring out at the now-empty rows and rows of beds, extended almost endlessly into the distance, Ify feels nothing. Not even a whisper of satisfaction.

Céline has likely destroyed all evidence of Ify’s past by now.