Chapter 3

At eleven that night, I made the first call.

To my lawyer.

David had been my mother’s legal advisor. He was in his fifties.

He sounded half-asleep when he answered.

“Astrid? It’s late.”

“David, I want to revoke the patent license agreement.”

There was a two-second silence on the other end.

“What happened?”

“Don’t ask yet. Can it be done?”

“I drafted that agreement for you. It includes a unilateral termination clause. You can revoke it at any time.”

“But have you thought this through? His company—”

“I’ve thought it through.”

“Fine. I’ll have my assistant send written notice first thing in the morning.”

“Under the contract, the revocation takes effect in forty-eight hours.”

The second call.

I dialed Mr. Costello, a senior board member at Marco’s company and an old friend of Marco’s father.

Costello owned fifteen percent of the company.

“Astrid? Calling so late—is something wrong?”

“Mr. Costello, Marco had someone hit me today.”

“What?”

“His assistant, Francesca, slapped me five times. He stood there laughing.”

It took Costello several seconds to find his voice.

“Astrid, you need to calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“I’m calling to let you know that tomorrow I’m revoking the patent license for my two formulas.”

“You do realize that eighty percent of the company’s current products use those formulas.”

This time, Costello was silent for much longer.

“Astrid, if you pull the license, the company—”

“I know.”

“Then why would you—”

“There are still five handprints on my face.”

Costello let out a heavy sigh.

“I’ll talk to Marco tomorrow.”

“Good.”

The third call.

I dialed a number that had sat in my phone, untouched, for three years.

It rang four times before someone picked up.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Astrid. Dr. Rhodes’s daughter.”

A pause.

“Astrid? Dr. Rhodes’s daughter?”

“Maria, I need to ask you something.”

“Three years ago, my mother mentioned that if I ever needed to take the formulas back… did she make any arrangements?”

Maria had been my mother’s colleague at the lab.

After retiring, she’d opened a small testing lab of her own.

“Your mother did say one thing.”

“She said if that day ever came, you should go to her safe.”

“The key is tucked inside the folder with your birth certificate.”

“Where is the safe?”

“In the apartment you’re in now.”

“She had it moved there before she passed. It’s behind the closet in the second bedroom.”

I hung up.

Then I went into the second bedroom.

The closet was old and wooden, heavy and solid.

I pulled out the old clothes inside and shoved it aside.

There was a gray safe built into the wall.

I found the key in the folder with my birth certificate.

And opened it.

Inside was a large manila envelope, a USB drive, and a document.

The document was in my mother’s handwriting.

I unfolded it.

There weren’t just two formulas.

There were four.

The other two were formulas Marco’s company had never known about.

My mother had held back the two most important ones. She’d never revealed them.

Inside the envelope was a note:

*Astrid, these two formulas are ten times more valuable than the first two.*

*Keep them in your hands. Use them when it matters.*

My hand tightened around the note.

*Mom.*

*You saw this coming all along.*