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The afternoon my critical condition notice was issued, Reid Ashford popped a bottle of champagne in the lab. In the photo he posted on his Instagram, he and Tessa Caldwell stood side by side, their backs bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Their white lab coats shimmered like liquid gold. The caption said only one thing. [Ten years passed. Finally, we did it.] Everyone said Reid was devoted, spending ten years of sleepless nights all in saving me. When the nurse, her eyes rimmed with tears, handed me her phone to show me the post, I was staring at the rhythmic waves on the monitor screen beside my bed. What none of them knew was that the drug had been perfected a year ago. And I was the only candidate who wasn't allowed to take it.