Gascon stood center stage and lifted his arms like an Old Testament prophet. The crowd around Kelly rose as one in rapture as Gascon paced, his hands now clasped together in grateful thanks. “Thank you, everyone! My team! Thank you!”

Applause from the upper tiers fell around Kelly like manna. When Jasmine glared at her, Kelly rose to her feet and mimed thunderous applause.

Gascon gestured for quiet, and seats were resumed.

Kelly raised her eyebrows at Jasmine. Here goes.

Gascon steepled his fingers under his nose as a perfect silence crept over the theater.

“You may have seen some unconfirmed—and scurrilous—media reports about side effects for a drug that might or might not be Mendacium. I will leave the damage control to our lawyers, but let’s have a direct conversation about those rumors.”

The crowd leaned into the truth Gascon was about to deliver.

“One, Mendacium has never been connected with any studies showing side effects in children. All of these media reports mention it, but where is the proof? What’s that term? Fake news?”

Relieved laughter rippled around Kelly as she watched Gascon’s careful tiptoeing through a prepared speech. A marionette operated by lawyers. “And two, we have never admitted liability for any issues with our products in the past.”

The tiniest grunt escaped Kelly as she struggled to contain a cynical snigger. Even she knew that was what settlements were for.

Jasmine shot her a quick glance. Had that snigger escaped? She glanced back at the stage and into the gaze of Gascon, who glared in her direction.

“So let’s put these scurrilous rumors behind us. They’re just a way for a jealous industry to try to bring us down. Now, moving on—”

Moving on? That was it? That was the proof Kelly was expected to deliver to doctors who cared about their patients?

“—to a great opportunity before us. Our research and development team has identified an emerging new disease of the twenty-first century that could benefit from our wonder drug, and sales will go through the roof!”

An excited chatter bounced around the lecture theater. Better sales meant one thing: bigger bonuses.

A screen rolled down from the ceiling above Gascon as the spotlights cut out. A young mother watched from her car as her children swung in slow motion on a playground, the sun shining through golden hair. “When I realized I had Restless Soul Syndrome, I thought my quality of life was over. But if there were a treatment I could take to give me purpose again, I’d be forever grateful . . .”

Kelly zoned out as the video rolled, swimming upstream against the enthralling current sweeping away everyone around her. This was the last straw. She could not look her clients in the face and sell a solution to this “syndrome” that hadn’t existed five minutes ago.

*  *  *