Chapter 5

I continued, "In the third phase, we had seventeen failures. Nine were caused by temperature fluctuations, three by sample contamination, two by electrode material issues, and the last three by model misjudgments."

Antonio spoke suddenly. "We all know that already."

I stopped and glanced at him.

I said, "Okay."

I closed the slide.

I added, "Let's skip this part then."

Antonio frowned slightly.

But Gwen immediately looked up.

She said, "Don't skip it."

Her voice sounded a little anxious.

The conference room went quiet for a moment.

Antonio glanced at her.

Gwen gripped her pen and forced a smile.

She added, "I mean, let's go through it all. It'll make the defense easier later."

I reopened the slide.

I said, "Sure."

For the next hour, I stuck to the facts.

I didn't help Gwen craft her defense lines.

I didn't highlight the key points for her.

I didn't even give her a heads-up about which questions the partners were sure to ask.

I used to do all that.

I used to put sticky notes on everyone's materials, marking risk points in different colors.

Back when Gwen first came back from abroad, she got stumped during her first group meeting. Antonio, worried she'd be embarrassed, came to me that night.

He asked, "Eloise, show her the ropes."

I did.

I revised her speech drafts.

I fixed her presentation slides when she messed them up.

I even taught her line by line how to write the key experimental difference analysis in her paper.

Later she joked in front of the team, "Eloise is like my advisor. She's even more responsible than my actual advisor."

Everyone laughed.

Antonio laughed too.

He said, "Eloise may sound tough, but she's got a soft heart."

Back then, I didn't feel sad at all.

Looking back now, I realized I was so dumb.

By the time the handover was almost done, Gwen looked terrible.

She flipped through the files and asked, "Eloise, on page seven of the safety assessment, there's an abnormal peak.

"You noted it as 'suspected false positive, needs to be cross-checked with Group B's delayed feedback.' Which file is Group B's delayed feedback in?"

I glanced at the screen.

I said, "It's in the informal records."

Gwen froze for a second.

"What do you mean?"

I said, "The device wasn't online back then, so I jotted the feedback down by hand and later sent a photo to Antonio for confirmation. Only the final conclusion is in the public report, not the handwritten process."

Antonio's eyes flashed.

It was clear he remembered.

That night had been the night before my father's surgery.

The hospital hallway had smelled strongly of disinfectant.

I had been waiting for the doctor to sign the papers while taking calls from the institute.

Antonio had said over the phone, "Eloise, this is Gwen's first time being in charge of a data section on her own. Don't make her look bad. Fill in the process for her."

I had sat on a blue plastic chair, with my medical records on my knees, and written out that set of feedback line by line.

At one in the morning, my father had been wheeled into the operating room.

I never got the chance to say a real last word to him.

Later, all the project team knew was that the assessment had gone smoothly.

No one asked where I had been that night.

Gwen bit her lip.

She asked, "Can I have that handwritten record?"

I met her gaze.

I said, "No."

Her eyes filled with tears again.

Antonio finally spoke up.

He said, "Eloise, it's just a record."

I pulled a medical file out of my bag.

The cover was old, the corners worn and faded.

When it landed on the table, the conference room went silent.

Antonio's expression shifted when he saw the cover.

He asked, "What's this?"

I replied, "My dad's surgery records."

My voice was flat.

I said, "That handwritten record is tucked right in here."

Antonio's fingers curled slightly.

I didn't open the medical file.

"Antonio," I said, "when you asked me to fill in the data that night, my dad was in the operating room. He never made it out."

Gwen froze, her face going pale.

Sidney stared down at his lap, too afraid to look at me.

Antonio straightened up, his lips parted like he wanted to say something.

He said, "Eloise, I didn't know."

I put the medical file back in my bag.

I said, "Now you do."

Finally, a flicker of panic crossed his face.

But that panic came way too late.

It came so late that I didn't even care what he had to say next.

Someone knocked on the conference room door.

The admin assistant poked her head in. "Mr. Torres, the achievements office is asking if we need to re-file the contribution statement now that Ms. Dixon is leaving."

The question shattered the last bit of dignity we were barely holding onto.

Gwen suddenly looked up.

"Will re-filing affect the award?" she asked.

The assistant shot an awkward look at Antonio.

Antonio didn't say a word.

I closed my laptop.

I said, "The handover materials have been sent to the shared inbox. The hard copies are on the table. The recipient can sign to confirm."

Sidney asked quietly, "Ms. Dixon, are you really leaving?"

I glanced at him.

He added, "The project's come this far. Can you really let it go now?"

I didn't answer his question.

I pushed my chair back into place.

"You should ask the first author," I said.

Gwen's tears fell onto the documents, smudging a small patch of ink.

Antonio suddenly stood up.

"Eloise, come with me," he said.

I didn't move.

He came around the conference table and reached for me, trying to pull me up.

I pulled away.

His hand froze in midair.

Back when we were in the group, whenever Antonio reached out, I'd go along with him without thinking.

He was used to me giving him that much respect.

But today, I didn't reach out to him.

People in the hallway turned to look.

Antonio kept his voice low.

"We need to talk," he said.

I picked up my laptop bag.

"I'm busy," I said.

"Eloise," he said.

His voice grew heavy.

"What do you want? Credit? A promotion? Or a wedding? Just say it. I can give you any of it," he said.

I looked at him.

There was impatience and frustration in his eyes, and a kind of confidence he wasn't even aware of.

He still thought I was waiting for him to make an offer.

My phone buzzed.

A reminder for a video interview with the overseas research institute flashed on my screen.

There were twenty minutes left before it started.

I tapped to confirm I'd join.

Antonio saw the screen and frowned.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Interview," I said.

"What kind of interview?"

"Overseas research institute."

His expression totally shifted.

Gwen stepped out of the conference room, and as soon as she heard those words, the papers she was holding slipped from her hands and scattered across the floor.

The papers were strewn across the hallway.

The top sheet was the project contribution report.

The first line read: [Eloise Dixon, lead on core algorithms and experimental design, 64% contribution.]

Antonio stared down at that line.

He stood there, unmoving for a long time.

I walked past him.

Before the video interview started, I slipped into an empty conference room.

The screen lit up, and the head of the overseas research institute greeted me with a smile.

"Dr. Dixon, we've reviewed your project records over the years. Honestly, we've been waiting for you for a long time," he said.

I turned on my camera.