Chapter 3
Three days after I submitted the IND application, I got a call from the FDA.
"Ms. Sinclair, your SN-7 clinical trial application has passed the preliminary review," the voice on the other end said.
"How long will it take to get the approval?" I asked.
"Usually, it takes three to six months. But since your drug is for an urgent clinical need, if you opt for priority review, the fastest is sixty days."
"Let's do the priority review."
"Okay, once you send in all the documents, we'll rush your application."
As soon as I hung up, the lab erupted in cheers.
Linda even smacked her hand on the table in excitement.
"Dr. Sinclair, there's only a few dozen priority review in the whole country each year!" Linda exclaimed.
"Don't get too excited yet. The real battle starts after we get the approval. We need to lock down a hospital for Phase I, recruit participants, and keep a close eye on the data. There's no room for mistakes at any stage," I reminded them.
I sent a message to Oliver.
He replied with two words: [Well done.]
Then he sent another message. [The International Pharma Forum is happening in Capitale City next month. You should come.]
[What do you want me to do there?] I messaged back.
Oliver: [Give a talk. It's time to let everyone see your SN-7 data.]
I paused, thinking it over.
Me: [Okay.]
Before I could process what had just happened, something else went wrong at Evan's kindergarten.
When I picked him up that afternoon, I noticed a red mark on the back of his hand.
I crouched down to check it out.
"Who did this?" I asked Evan.
Evan kept his head down, not saying a word.
The teacher explained, "One of the kids pushed him and took his crayons."
"Which kid?" I asked.
"We've already handled it, Ms. Sinclair. Don't worry," the teacher said.
As we walked out, Evan finally spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Mom, that kid said I don't have a dad," he said.
I stopped in my tracks.
"He said all the other kids have their dads pick them up, but I don't," Evan added.
I crouched down so I could look him in the eye.
"Evan, you have me. And I'm way better than a hundred dads," I said.
"Really?" Evan asked.
"Really."
Evan thought for a moment, then nodded seriously.
"Mom, you're the best," he said.
I took his hand and walked him home.
On the way home, a white Range Rover pulled up across from us and slowed down.
The window rolled down, and Claire was sitting there, sunglasses on, her red lips curled into a smile.
"Nora," she called out.
I didn't stop.
"What a coincidence, running into you here," Claire said.
I kept walking.
Claire slowed her car, trailing behind me.
"Simon and Sarah really miss you. Especially Sarah. She used to cry every night for her mom. But she's much better now. She's started calling me 'Mom'," Claire said.
I kept walking.
"Nora, don't you want to know what's up with me and Dave? Actually, we—" Claire started.
"Claire," I interrupted.
I finally stopped and looked down at her through the car window.
"I don't care about your drama. But if you keep following me and my son, I'll call the cops," I said.
Claire took off her sunglasses and gave me a cocky look.
"Come on, is that really necessary? I was simply passing by," she said.
"Don't pretend. The kindergarten isn't anywhere near your usual route. You came here on purpose," I shot back.
She laughed.
"Nora, you're just as sensitive as ever. No wonder Dave always said you were such a handful," Claire said.
"He never had a hard time with you. You gave him two kids and then made someone else raise them for five years. That's pretty easy for him, isn't it?" I shot back.
Claire's smirk faltered for a moment.
"You—" she started.
"Goodbye. Next time you show up near my son, you'll be hearing from my lawyer," I said.
I took Evan's hand and walked away.
Evan looked up at me.
"Mom, is that lady a bad person?" he asked.
"No, she's not a bad person. She's just someone who doesn't matter to us," I replied.
*****
I got the official invite for the International Pharma Forum in my inbox.
On the keynote speaker list, "N. Sinclair" was third.
The first two? One's a Nobel Prize winner, the other's the chief scientist at the global pharma giant.
When James saw the list, he nearly spat out his coffee.
"You're right after David Harrison? He's last year's Lasker Award winner!" James exclaimed.
"Professor Goodwin helped me get that spot," I replied.
"So much for a low-key comeback. You're making your return on a stage like this?"
"My data earned me that spot."
For the next two weeks, I was busy working on my presentation for the forum and moving the clinical trial design forward.
James's wife helped out with picking up Evan for a couple of days. She was so gentle, and Evan really took a liking to her.
Meanwhile, news about the forum spread like wildfire in the industry.
People in the industry started buzzing: who the heck was N. Sinclair?
Five years ago, she published a paper that rocked the entire industry, and then disappeared without a trace.
Now she was back, armed with preclinical data for SN-7, and had filed for a fast-track IND review.
Some said she was working abroad, others guessed she was buried in some hush-hush project at a major pharmaceutical company.
But no one ever imagined she'd spent the last five years playing nanny in a billionaire's mansion.
Three days before the forum, something unexpected happened.
David's secretary, Linda Shaw, called me.
"Ms. Sinclair, Mr. Langley was wondering if you could hook him up with two VIP passes for next week's International Pharma Forum," Linda said.
I was stunned for a second.
"What?" I blurted out.
"Langley Pharmaceuticals wants to catch up on the latest industry trends, but the VIP passes are already sold out. Mr. Langley heard you might have some connections—" Linda explained.
"He knows I'm going to this forum?"
"Uh, Mr. Richard Langley mentioned it. He said you have some connections in the pharma world."
So it was Richard.
"I don't have any extra tickets," I said.
"Ms. Sinclair—" Linda started.
"Ms. Shaw, pass this on to Mr. Langley: if he wants to use connections to get tickets, tell him to ask Claire. Isn't she the one who's got all the Langley family wrapped around her finger?" I said.
I hung up.
*****
Capital City Convention Center was packed to the brim, not a single seat left in the 3,000-person hall.
I wore a black blazer dress, hair in a neat updo, standing in the backstage waiting area, feeling the tension in the air.
My presentation was scheduled for 2:20 PM.
My topic was "Innovative Design and Preclinical Evaluation of the SN-7 Targeted Delivery System."
Oliver was sitting in the front row, giving me a nod from across the hall.
At 1:45 PM, the previous speaker wrapped up.
The host stepped onto the stage.
"Our next speaker is a rising star from Clausia, the lead researcher on the SN-7 project, N. Sinclair. Please give her a warm welcome!" the host announced.
The whole hall erupted in applause.
I stepped onto the stage from the side entrance and stood at the center.
Three thousand people were watching me, every eye locked on my next move.
My first slide flashed onto the big screen.
On it was: [N. Sinclair—Nora Sinclair].
I picked up the microphone.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Nora Sinclair," I said.
As soon as the words left my lips, my eyes landed on someone in the eighth row on the right side of the hall.
David was sitting there.
He'd clearly managed to get a ticket.
His gaze cut through the sea of three thousand people and locked onto me.
I didn't miss a beat and kept going. "Today, I'm going to share a project I've been working on for seven years..."
After my forty-minute presentation, the whole hall stood up and gave me a standing ovation.
It was the kind of respect one only got from people who really knew their stuff, solid data, sharp design, and flawless logic.
Oliver was in the front row, clapping louder than anyone else.
As I stepped off the stage, three VPs from major pharma companies were waiting for me at the exit.
"Dr. Sinclair, can we exchange business cards?"
"Dr. Sinclair, we'd love to discuss international clinical trials for SN-7."
"Dr. Sinclair..."
Suddenly, I was swarmed.
Through a gap in the crowd, I spotted David standing at a distance, eyes locked on me.
I turned away and dove right back into conversation with the people around me.
Out of three thousand people in that hall, he was the only one I could totally ignore.
*****
That night after the forum, I got seventeen emails from companies wanting to work with me.
The highest offer had already hit 250 million dollars.
I didn't reply to a single one.
But one email caught my eye.
It was from Victor Lynch.
The message was short and to the point. [Dr. Sinclair, your SN-7 deserves a bigger stage. Let's talk.]
Victor was the founder of StagPeak Capital, the country's top biotech investment fund.
Everyone in the industry knew his name. Every deal he touched turned to gold.
I replied: [When?]
Victor: [Whenever you're available.]
I suggested we meet in three days.
The next morning, David showed up outside my office.
The receptionist called me.
"Dr. Sinclair, there's a Mr. Langley here who wants to see you," she said.
"I'm not seeing him," I said.
"He said he'll wait."
"Let him wait."
I went back to work.
Two hours later, the receptionist called again.
"Dr. Sinclair, he's still here," she said.
"Ignore him," I replied.
An hour later, James walked in.
"Nora, David's been standing downstairs for three hours. The building management even came by to ask about him," James said.
"What is it to him?" I asked.
"He says he's not leaving until he sees you."
I set my pen down and stood up.
"Fine. I'll go talk to him and make it clear," I said.
When the elevator hit the first floor, David was standing in the lobby. He was in a dark suit, looking sharp, his expression conflicted.
For three years of marriage, he'd always worn that cold, distant look. But now, he looked like a completely different person.
"Nora," he said.
"Go on," I replied.
"I was there for your whole presentation at the forum yesterday."
"So?"
"Why didn't you ever tell me about any of this?"
I looked at him.
"Did you ever ask?" I shot back.
He didn't say a word.
"In five years of marriage, you barely talked to me at all when you came home. It was always, 'Is dinner ready yet?' 'Why is the kid crying again?' 'My mom wants you to make soup, don't forget.' Did you ever care about what I was doing? Not once," I shot back.
"I—" he started.
"Remember that night I was in the kitchen, digging through information on my phone? You came in for a drink and saw me. Do you remember what you said?"
He pressed his lips together.
"You said, 'Why are you up so late messing with your phone? No wonder you look so worn out these days,'" I said.
I let out a laugh.
"I was actually reading the latest review on targeted delivery in Nature Drug Discovery," I said.
David's Adam's apple bobbed.
"Nora, I—" he started.
"David, skip it. Just tell me what you want," I cut him off.
He didn't beat around the bush.
"Langley Pharmaceuticals is bidding for a National Innovative Drug Initiative project, and we need a heavyweight academic advisor," he said.
"You want me to help?" I asked.
"Yes."
"And why on earth would I do that?"
"I can pay you. Name your price for consulting."
I leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"David, do you know what your biggest problem is?" I asked.
"What?" he replied.
"You still believe money can buy you everything. But there are things you can't buy, like your wife's heart, your son's company, or five years of a scientist's life. You lost all of that, and now you think you can pay to get it all back.
"It's never happening."
I turned and headed for the elevator.
"Wait!" he called out.
I didn't stop.
"Nora!" he shouted.
The elevator doors slid shut.
James was waiting for me upstairs.
"So, how'd it go?" he asked.
"He wants me to be his company's consultant," I said.
"What did you say?"
"Take a wild guess."
James laughed.
At three in the afternoon, David texted me. This time, it was from a new number.
[I'm sorry,] he wrote.
I left it there. Didn't reply.