"Should I go talk to Miss Sutton?" Smith offered, thinking she might be more receptive to him.
"No," Ian said coolly. "Let her cool down."
Smith surmised that Eleanor's mother's sample must have a purpose far more critical than he knew. Otherwise, with his own mother's condition worsening and his sister already symptomatic, Ian would never withhold it. He immediately launched into a presentation of the previous night's experiments on Vanessa's blood sample.
Eleanor was out on the lab's balcony, letting the cool breeze clear her head. She couldn't understand any of it, and the unanswered questions felt like a suffocating weight on her chest. But she quickly regained her composure. For now, they would have to leave her mother's sample as a last resort. Focusing the research on Vanessa's blood was still the correct course of action.
Dr. Smith was in the middle of a detailed explanation to Ian when the door opened. Eleanor walked in, a cup of coffee in her hand, her expression serene. She sat down, all traces of her earlier anger gone, her composure as calm as still water.
Smith slid a copy of the data report toward her. "Miss Sutton, I was just updating Mr. Goodwin on our progress. Please, join us."
"Go on, Doctor," she said, nodding.
Smith picked up where he had left off.
Ian's eyes were ostensibly fixed on the data Smith was presenting, but his peripheral vision kept drifting to Eleanor. She showed no trace of her earlier emotion, and when Smith directed a question her way, her answers were logical, clear, and quick-witted. She treated the man across the table as if he were a stranger, completely irrelevant.
As Smith was explaining one point, Eleanor interjected. "If my mother's sample is a match with Vanessa's, I suggest we include my blood in the genetic comparison sequence. Theoretically, I could also be a successful match."


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