Chapter 6 - The Poisoned Well
The morning of the second day arrived with a cold, gray rain that beat against the high leaded-glass windows of the estate.
I found my mother in the sunroom, wrapped in a thick wool blanket Owen had provided. She looked better than she had in months—the clean air and the quiet of the estate seemed to have eased her breathing, but her eyes were still tight with worry.
"We shouldn't have come, Clara," she said as I sat down beside her on the stone bench. "I had a dream last night. I dreamt we were back in the old apartment, but the walls were made of glass, and everyone on Fifth Avenue was staring at us, waiting for us to fall."
"It's going to be okay, Mom," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. "Owen is winning. I heard them in the library last night. He has the files. He’s going to force Arthur out."
My mother didn't look relieved. She looked out at the rain-soaked gardens. "Men like Arthur Blake don't get forced out, Clara. They just find a different way to play the game. They don't accept defeat from people like us."
As if on cue, the sunroom door opened, and Mr. Vance, Owen’s quiet assistant, stepped in. His usual calm demeanor was gone; his face was pale, and he was holding a tablet with a trembling hand.
"Grace," Vance said, his voice tight. "We have a problem. Dr. Aris just called from the clinic."
My mother sat up straight, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. "What is it? The trial?"
"The FDA approval for the gene therapy trial was suddenly challenged this morning," Vance explained, looking down at his tablet. "An anonymous complaint was filed alleging safety violations and protocol breaches at the research facility. The agency has issued an immediate freeze on all clinical trials associated with the program pending a full investigation."
"Arthur," I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow.
"Yes," Vance nodded. "He used his political connections in Washington to flag the trial. It will take months, maybe years, to clear the investigation. And without the trial..."
"Without the trial, the treatment is illegal," my mother said, her voice dropping to a flat, dead tone. "And I don't have years, Vance. Dr. Aris told me three months ago that my heart is operating at less than forty percent."
She looked at her hands, her expression suddenly very calm. It was the calm of a person who had spent her entire life waiting for the other shoe to drop, and was almost relieved that it finally had.
"He won," she said simply.
"No, he hasn't," a voice commanded from the doorway.
Owen Blake walked into the sunroom. He had discarded his suit jacket; his sleeves were rolled up, and his face was set in a hard, dangerous line.
"The freeze only applies to clinical trials within the United States," Owen said, walking over to my mother and kneeling beside her, just as he had knelt to my height six years ago in the restaurant. "The research facility in Zurich, Switzerland, is outside the FDA's jurisdiction. They are running the exact same protocol, and they are fully funded by my private European estate."
"Zurich?" My mother looked at him, confused. "We can't just go to Switzerland, Owen. I don't even have a passport. Clara has never been out of the city."
"The passports are already being processed," Owen said, looking up at Mr. Vance, who nodded in confirmation. "My private jet is on standby at JFK. We leave tonight."
"And what about the board?" I asked, stepping forward. "What about the vote?"
"The board voted this morning," Owen said, a cold, hard satisfaction in his voice. "Arthur has been stripped of his executive power. He is being forced into early retirement. But he’s desperate, Clara. He knows that once you're in Switzerland and your mother is cured, he loses his last piece of leverage. He’s going to try to stop us before we can leave the country."
May you like
He stood up, looking at the window as the rain grew heavier.
"We have to move now," Owen said. "Before he realizes we’re gone."
