My husband and I returned to the United States to participate in groundbreaking cancer research, only to be struck down—literally—by Vanessa Sterling, a rising Hollywood star. With my legs shattered, I crawled, pleading for her to help my husband, who was rapidly losing consciousness. She responded by throwing a check at my face. “Who’s ever heard of you scientists? You’re nobodies compared to me! Here, a hundred grand—more than enough to buy your pathetic lives!” As my husband’s body grew cold, she left, hurling a bribe to keep me silent. Then, her powerful backer, Brandon Chase, threatened me, “Go ahead, call the cops. We’ll ruin you. Who do you think you are to fight a star like her?” What they didn’t know was that my husband was the lead scientist on a federally funded cancer research project—a man backed by the full force of the National Institute of Advanced Science. Content The cold check slid from his face, but Nate still clutched the hard drive containing his research—a decade’s worth of work to develop affordable cancer medication. Just an hour earlier, he’d smiled at me, his excitement lighting up the room. “Claire,” he had said, “with these results, we can give the country a drug that’s cheaper and more effective.” “I want every family to afford medicine. Every life is precious.” And now, his life was being trampled on, reduced to a bargaining chip for a starlet with too much money and too little humanity. Through my tears, I begged her, “I don’t want your money—just help me get my husband to a hospital!” “If our research gets delayed, it could cost thousands, maybe millions, of lives!” Vanessa Sterling paused mid-step, her lips curling into a mocking sneer. “Ugh, shut up. A hundred grand isn’t enough to make you stop whining? You’re both worthless, and frankly, I’m being generous!” Her cruel words stabbed at me. Nate and I had sacrificed so much, self-funding our research for the good of the people, only to be humiliated by someone who flaunted her wealth like a weapon. I pulled out my ID and threw it at her feet. “Call the National Institute of Advanced Science. They’ll confirm who we are.” “Delay this project, and those two worthless lives you mock might cost you more than you can afford to pay!” Vanessa crushed my ID under her heel with a dismissive snort. “What a waste of my time! I’m trending on Twitter and have national interviews lined up. Meanwhile, I’ve never even heard of you.” “What kind of ‘scientists’ are so unknown? Guess you’re not that important. Dead or alive, who’d even care?” She strutted off, lazily making a call, leaving me gripping my shattered phone, frantically pressing its cracked screen through tears that blurred my vision. I was at my wit’s end. I pounded my broken legs in despair, the pain unable to drown out the anguish in my chest. How could I dream of saving lives when I couldn’t even save the person I loved most? Vanessa smirked, looking down at me. “Fine, keep playing the victim. I’m not giving you more money.” “Oh, by the way,” she added, “this area has no cameras. So here’s the story: you two idiots ran into my car on your own. Say that, and we’re good.” She leaned in, a wicked grin on her face. “Take the check, and I’ll even send my assistant to drop you off at the hospital. Consider it my good deed of the day.” Vanessa wanted to rewrite the narrative. She wasn’t the one who caused this—no, she was the hero offering a lifeline. My hands trembled as I picked up the blood-stained check. Swallowing my pride, I agreed. Nate’s life was all that mattered. Seeing me capitulate, Vanessa laughed in triumph. “Ha! Pretending you’re not after money? What a joke.” I bit my lip so hard that blood dripped down my chin. Nate, coughing and wheezing, turned to me with great effort. “Claire… I have to tell you something… while I can…” He pressed the hard drive into my hands, blood trickling from his nose and mouth. “Claire, I’ve told you before. My greatest dream is to create a cure that even the poorest can afford.” “But I don’t think I can finish it…” I held him tightly, trying to warm his freezing body, my tears mingling with the blood on his face. He shook his head, determined even in his final moments. “Don’t grieve for me.” “No matter what happens, you must continue our research. This data is more important than me…” Choking on sobs, I nodded. Vanessa’s voice cut through the air like a dagger. “Enough with the drama. You’re acting like you’re curing cancer or something. I’ve got people jumping off buildings if I don’t post on Instagram!” I glared at her, my fury burning through the haze of grief. Vanessa smirked. “Oh, what? You mad? It’s just some junk science, right?” She snatched the hard drive from my hands. “Let me take a look. What’s got you so worked up?”
Vanessa Sterling tossed the hard drive lightly into the air, catching it with each throw. One slip, and it would shatter into pieces. I watched in utter panic, my chest tightening with every flip. Crawling forward on my broken legs, I begged her to return it. “That’s his legacy!” I cried. “It’s the hope for countless patients who could be saved!” Vanessa’s mocking game had gone too far. The sight of her toying with the hard drive pushed Nate over the edge. He coughed violently, blood spurting from his lips as he gasped out desperate pleas for her to stop. Then, he collapsed, unconscious. Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Geez, can’t you take a joke?” she muttered before pocketing her amusement. With a flippant wave, she climbed into her car and sped away. Her assistant eventually helped transport Nate and me to Crestwood Medical Center, where I underwent surgery. Hours later, I sat in a wheelchair outside the brightly lit ICU, staring at the closed doors of the operating room. All I could think about was the stolen research—ten years of relentless work—gone. Summoning my strength, I called the police. The Brookhaven Police Department acted swiftly, launching an investigation and quickly identifying witnesses to the hit-and-run. Vanessa was brought in for questioning. The moment we faced each other at the station, she struck me across the face without warning. “You just don’t give up, do you? Wasn’t a hundred grand enough? Now you’re back for more?” I didn’t flinch. Instead, I slammed the bloodstained check against her face. “I told you—I don’t want your money. I want you behind bars. If my husband doesn’t make it, I’ll see to it you pay with your life!” Her face twisted in fury, and she raised her hand again. But before she could land another blow, the officers stepped in to stop her. Turning on the theatrics, Vanessa threw herself into Brandon Chase’s arms, sobbing dramatically. “Mr. Chase, I’m so sorry! I was just trying to enjoy my evening with you, but this woman had to bring the police and ruin everything!” Everyone knew that stars like Vanessa didn’t rise without a powerful backer. Brandon Chase was clearly her anchor in the storm. He gave me a disinterested glance, his tone icy. “Ms. Kensington, let’s not drag this out. Name your price, and let’s put this to rest.” I chuckled bitterly through the pain of my split lip. “You think this is about money?” “My husband dedicated his life to research for this country. He’s fighting for his life, and you want to buy your way out of justice? Forget it.” Brandon’s gaze turned steely, his voice lowering in warning. “You’re playing a dangerous game. Money can buy anything.” I locked eyes with him, unwavering. “Fine. Get the most expensive lawyer you can find. I’ll see you in court.” Ignoring him, I focused on the officers bringing in the witnesses. I expected justice, but when the doors to the interrogation room opened, my blood ran cold. The witness, a young man, pointed at me and confidently declared, “It was her. I saw her throw herself in front of Vanessa’s car. She was faking it—trying to extort her!” My voice shook. “You’re lying!” It was all so clear now. Brandon Chase’s smug confidence, the bribed witness—it all clicked into place. “You sold your soul for a check,” I said, my voice trembling with rage. “How much did they pay you? Enough to silence your conscience and frame an innocent person?” The boy shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but the admiration in his eyes as he turned to Vanessa betrayed him. “Vanessa Sterling is a star,” he gushed. “She makes millions every day. She’s an icon for people like me.” Then he sneered at me. “And you? What are you, some nobody scientist? Why would I ruin my life for someone like you?” My eyes burned with unshed tears. “You’re asking who I am?” I whispered. I clenched my fists. Nate and I had spent our lives in quiet service to others, seeking no fame or fortune—only the hope of making a difference. But did that mean we deserved this? I cried out, my voice hoarse, “My husband is still fighting for his life in the ICU! We work for the National Institute of Advanced Science! Why would we throw everything away for a scheme like this?” Brandon’s condescending laugh cut through the air. “Every criminal says they’re innocent,” he said with a shrug, turning to the officers. “Officer, you have your witness. Isn’t it time to put this scam artist in her place?” He stepped forward, his face inches from mine, and smirked. “After all, we’re all equal under the law. Isn’t that right?” My resolve snapped. I slapped him hard across the face, the sound ringing through the room like a gunshot. “You’ll regret that,” he growled, raising his fist. “Stop!” The officers rushed forward, pushing us apart before he could strike. As they escorted me to another room, Brandon’s eyes followed me, dark with unspoken threats.
After yet another round of questioning, my lawyer arranged for my release. Exhausted, I returned to Crestwood Medical Center, where Nate’s condition remained critical. I slumped in my wheelchair, staring at the sterile hospital walls, my body numb with despair. Then my phone rang. Vanessa’s voice spilled out, dripping with mockery. “Claire, how’s it feel to call the cops and end up the one getting interrogated?” “You’re the criminal!” I spat back. “So what if I am?” she said, her confidence unshaken. “Brandon’s got my back. I’m a star. What are you? Nothing.” Her voice turned icy. “Brandon wanted me to tell you something: money can’t shut you up, but it can destroy you a hundred times over. Check Twitter if you don’t believe me.” Dread pooled in my stomach as I opened my phone. The top trending topic screamed at me: “Scammer Couple Tries to Con Actress Vanessa Sterling, Karma Hits Hard!” The media had already spun the story, fueled by Brandon’s money and influence. Comment after comment tore us apart. “They should’ve died in the accident. How dare they frame Vanessa?” “Calling themselves scientists? Sure, if scientists were cheap and useless. Vanessa’s worth more than their entire lives combined!” Even fake posts from supposed former classmates began to circulate. “They plagiarized their theses in college. The whole campus knew they were frauds.” Nate and I, dedicated scientists, were painted as failures and liars, while Vanessa continued to bask in the spotlight. I hung up on her taunts. It wasn’t over. I wouldn’t stop until every single one of them faced justice. Dialing, I heard a familiar voice pick up. “Claire! I was just about to call you!” exclaimed Dr. Leonard Grant, the director of NIAS. “I’ve got great news! Nate’s been officially appointed lead scientist for the project. The higher-ups are thrilled!” His enthusiasm cracked something inside me. “Nate might not wake up,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “And the data… it’s gone.” The line went silent before his voice returned, steel laced with fury. “Who did this to you? Tell me everything.” As I explained, tears choked me. “How do I fix this? Patients are waiting. The drug needs to be developed… and I’ve failed at every turn.” But Dr. Grant’s voice was resolute. “You haven’t failed, Claire. Hold on. Help is coming. The country will always stand behind you.” Minutes later, Vanessa strutted into the hospital. “You’re not welcome here!” I seethed. “Oh, I have an appointment,” she said with a sly smile. “Dr. Harris is seeing me this afternoon.” My heart sank. Dr. Harris was Nate’s surgeon. If she took him away… “You’re risking his life!” I screamed. Vanessa only laughed. “Guess you better start making funeral plans.” Before I could react, she shoved me from my wheelchair, sending pain lancing through my broken legs. Then, with a cruel smile, she pulled the hard drive from her bag and slammed it to the ground. “This is what you care about, isn’t it? Well, consider it gone!” Her heel came down hard, cracking the casing. A booming voice stopped her. “Enough!” Dr. Grant stormed in, his expression thunderous. “I don’t care who your backer is,” he roared. “No one is above this country’s justice!”
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