Chapter 7 · Erased Name, Endless Remorse

Chapter 7

An unfamiliar fragrance drifted through the lab.

It wasn't the metallic tang of machines running hot, nor the bitter coffee I usually sipped.

I walked over to the trash can and bent down to pick up the list of errors.

The notes I scribbled at 3 a.m. were still there.

It read: [Delay anomaly. Check Module C first.]

The black ink had smudged a bit.

My old employee badge was tucked underneath it.

On the badge, the words "Co-Founder Evelyn Shaw" were marred by a circular water stain from a coffee cup.

I picked up the badge, and my thumb gently traced the water stain.

A soft voice came from behind me. "Evelyn, what are you doing here?"

I turned around.

Vivian stood in the doorway, no longer in her dark blue suit.

She wore a cream-colored sweater, her face still a little pale.

She glanced at the old badge in my hand, then at the list I'd picked up.

"Investors will be visiting here soon," she said. She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "We should make it look a bit nicer."

After Vivian finished speaking, the lab fell silent for a few seconds.

The soft whir of the cooling fans drifted in from the corner.

It was a gentle, unending sound.

I stood at my desk, still holding the crumpled list of errors.

She said it should make it look a bit nicer.

So, the things I left behind were already making Cloudspire Technologies look less presentable.

Vivian took a step forward.

Her eyes flicked to the cardboard box by my feet, as if she'd only noticed it. "These are your personal things. I was planning to have my assistant drop them off tomorrow, but I didn't think you'd come by today."

The box wasn't sealed.

My stuff was tossed in, all mixed up.

There was an old keyboard, a notepad, a few pens that were nearly out of ink, half a box of antacids, and the gray jacket I'd drape over my shoulders during late-night shifts.

The jacket was shoved at the very bottom, with one sleeve sticking out.

A small patch of dried coffee stain marked the sleeve.

That was from last winter.

The first time we tried to cold start Z17 and it didn't work, I ended up pulling an all-nighter in the lab. By morning, my hands were trembling as I tried to carry my coffee.

Charles noticed and said that when the project finally settled down, he'd take me to the beach for a proper break.

I laughed and told him, "Let's get the prototype up and running first."

Later, the prototype finally came to life.

But the vacation never happened.

And now, my jacket was stuffed into this box.

I asked, "Who told you to clear out my desk?"

Vivian lowered her gaze. "Evelyn, please don't misunderstand. I'm borrowing your spot for now.

"Charles said you've been worn out lately and wanted you to get some rest at home. Once the company goes public and things settle down, you'll definitely come back."

Every word she spoke was barely above a whisper.

So light, it felt like they barely existed at all.

Yet every sentence made me feel a bit more like an outsider.

I looked up at the wall.

There used to be a blueprint of Z17's system hanging there.

I'd sketched it by hand.

Every line, from the first data collection to model training, all the way to terminal feedback, was the result of endless nights spent debugging and refining.

But now, the blueprint was gone.

In its place hung a framed photo.

In the photo, Charles and Vivian stood in front of a banner at an international conference.

Charles was facing her, his gaze fixed on Vivian.

Vivian's smile was gentle.

The date was written in the bottom right corner.

It was from three years ago.

I stared at that date.

Three years ago, I was hitting dead ends everywhere, trying to land Cloudspire Technologies' first round of funding.

By day, I was selling our product to investors; by night, I was back at the office, fixing bugs and tweaking code.

When things were toughest, I barely got three hours of sleep a day.

Charles told me he was flying overseas to meet a crucial partner, and once he got back, he'd open new doors for Cloudspire Technologies.

So back then, he and Vivian actually had a moment like this captured together.

Vivian glanced where I was looking, and her face changed.

"It's an old event photo. The branding team thought it'd be good to show off Mr. Graham's international credentials," she explained.

"The branding team thought so?" I asked.

Vivian's fingers tightened around her sleeve. "Yeah."

I looked at her. "Vivian, do you understand the blueprint you took off the wall?"

Her face paled a shade. "I'll learn it eventually."

"So you threw it away before you understood it?"

Her eyes welled up with tears. "Evelyn, I didn't mean it that way. I wanted to make the place more presentable for investors.

"You're amazing at what you do, but when investors walk in for the first time and see a wall full of chaotic sketches and diagrams, it might feel a bit overwhelming."

She said it was a bit overwhelming.

Chapter 7

An unfamiliar fragrance drifted through the lab.

It wasn't the metallic tang of machines running hot, nor the bitter coffee I usually sipped.

I walked over to the trash can and bent down to pick up the list of errors.

The notes I scribbled at 3 a.m. were still there.

It read: [Delay anomaly. Check Module C first.]

The black ink had smudged a bit.

My old employee badge was tucked underneath it.

On the badge, the words "Co-Founder Evelyn Shaw" were marred by a circular water stain from a coffee cup.

I picked up the badge, and my thumb gently traced the water stain.

A soft voice came from behind me. "Evelyn, what are you doing here?"

I turned around.

Vivian stood in the doorway, no longer in her dark blue suit.

She wore a cream-colored sweater, her face still a little pale.

She glanced at the old badge in my hand, then at the list I'd picked up.

"Investors will be visiting here soon," she said. She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "We should make it look a bit nicer."

After Vivian finished speaking, the lab fell silent for a few seconds.

The soft whir of the cooling fans drifted in from the corner.

It was a gentle, unending sound.

I stood at my desk, still holding the crumpled list of errors.

She said it should make it look a bit nicer.

So, the things I left behind were already making Cloudspire Technologies look less presentable.

Vivian took a step forward.

The box wasn't sealed.

My stuff was tossed in, all mixed up.

There was an old keyboard, a notepad, a few pens that were nearly out of ink, half a box of antacids, and the gray jacket I'd drape over my shoulders during late-night shifts.

The jacket was shoved at the very bottom, with one sleeve sticking out.

A small patch of dried coffee stain marked the sleeve.

That was from last winter.

The first time we tried to cold start Z17 and it didn't work, I ended up pulling an all-nighter in the lab. By morning, my hands were trembling as I tried to carry my coffee.

Charles noticed and said that when the project finally settled down, he'd take me to the beach for a proper break.

I laughed and told him, "Let's get the prototype up and running first."

Later, the prototype finally came to life.

But the vacation never happened.

And now, my jacket was stuffed into this box.

I asked, "Who told you to clear out my desk?"

Vivian lowered her gaze. "Evelyn, please don't misunderstand. I'm borrowing your spot for now.

"Charles said you've been worn out lately and wanted you to get some rest at home. Once the company goes public and things settle down, you'll definitely come back."

Every word she spoke was barely above a whisper.

So light, it felt like they barely existed at all.

Yet every sentence made me feel a bit more like an outsider.

I looked up at the wall.

There used to be a blueprint of Z17's system hanging there.

I'd sketched it by hand.

Every line, from the first data collection to model training, all the way to terminal feedback, was the result of endless nights spent debugging and refining.

But now, the blueprint was gone.

In its place hung a framed photo.

In the photo, Charles and Vivian stood in front of a banner at an international conference.

Charles was facing her, his gaze fixed on Vivian.

Vivian's smile was gentle.

The date was written in the bottom right corner.

It was from three years ago.

I stared at that date.

Three years ago, I was hitting dead ends everywhere, trying to land Cloudspire Technologies' first round of funding.

By day, I was selling our product to investors; by night, I was back at the office, fixing bugs and tweaking code.

When things were toughest, I barely got three hours of sleep a day.

Charles told me he was flying overseas to meet a crucial partner, and once he got back, he'd open new doors for Cloudspire Technologies.

So back then, he and Vivian actually had a moment like this captured together.

Vivian glanced where I was looking, and her face changed.

"It's an old event photo. The branding team thought it'd be good to show off Mr. Graham's international credentials," she explained.

"The branding team thought so?" I asked.

Vivian's fingers tightened around her sleeve. "Yeah."

I looked at her. "Vivian, do you understand the blueprint you took off the wall?"

Her face paled a shade. "I'll learn it eventually."

"So you threw it away before you understood it?"

Her eyes welled up with tears. "Evelyn, I didn't mean it that way. I wanted to make the place more presentable for investors.

"You're amazing at what you do, but when investors walk in for the first time and see a wall full of chaotic sketches and diagrams, it might feel a bit overwhelming."

She said it was a bit overwhelming.