Page 59 of Cross My Heart
“Good.” With a nod, she walks off.
“She seems… wildly intimidating,” I say, watching Valerie breeze past security and into the main part of the building.
Phillip chuckles. “I wish I could say that she’s just a softie, underneath it all but… nope. But she’s a brilliant woman,” he adds. “Ashford poached her from some bigwig drug company to spearhead our work. She and Wren got along great,” he adds. “Valerie was mentoring her.”
“Oh.” I nod, steeling myself to talk about Wren more. It hurts, but I’m curious, too, about her work here at the lab, and the projects she was so passionate about.
I wait until Phillip and I are settled with our lunches at a cute café down the block from the lab, then I admit: “I never actually followed much of what Wren was working on. She tried to explain it to me, but, well, she would get carried away and go into full scientist mode, and it would all go way over my head.”
Phillip laughs. “That sounds like Wren. It’s actually pretty straightforward, as far as neuro-biochemistry goes.”
“Well, sure,” I quip, munching my sandwich. “But why don’t you explain it to me like… Well, like I’m a woman who barely scraped through high school biology.”
He smiles. “OK, so the human brain is made up of millions of neurons, they’re special cells that communicate with each other, and the whole body,” he explains. “Like when you lift your sandwich, or blink your eyes, or even think about the last time you had tuna salad. That’s your neurons firing, millions of them, forming thoughts and actions.”
“Ok,” I nod. “I’m with you do far.”
“Well, our research is focused on how abnormal levels of proteins in the brain clump together and form plaques,” he continues. “They disrupt those basic neuron functions, leading to conditions like Alzheimer’s, where memory and identity are damaged. We’ve been testing a new drug that acts to stop the protein clumps, and even reverse the early damage. It could be revolutionary for treatment of the disease.”
“Oh, wow,” I feel a pang. “Wren always did want to save the world, or cure cancer.”
“Well, if the trials continue the way they’ve been going…Shit,” Phillip seems to realize something. He makes a face. “I’m not supposed to even talk about them, we all signed iron-clad nondisclosure agreements, everything’s top-secret, under pain of death.”
I smile, “Talk about what?” I ask, with an innocent smile.
“Thanks.” He looks relieved. “I’m just sorry Wren isn’t here to see it through with us. She worked on an early version of the drug,” he explains. “Back when we were in animal trials. Now we’ve progressed to human clinical trials. None of this would be possible without her work.”
I nod slowly. “You know, that helps, in a way. That her work will live on,’ I add, feeling a little better. “Help people, change their lives for the better, the way she always wanted.”
Phillip nods, and picks at his food. “Lara mentioned you’re studying at Ashford College?”
“I’m not sure my professors would agree,” I say wryly, thinking of my half-assed essays and skimmed reading lists.
“How do you like it?” he asks. “I only moved here after university, but Oxford seems like a fun place to study.”
“It is…” I reply, spotting a way to turn the conversation back to my investigation. “Wren always told me so much about her time here. Did you hang out much, outside of work?”
“Oh yeah,” Phillip smiles. “She was always trying to drag the lab off on some tourist activity on the weekends. We all went punting down the River Cherwell… Toured Christ Church college—you know, theHarry Potterone.”
“I remember, she sent like a billion photos.” I pause. “Did she ever mention anything about secret societies?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
Phillip looks puzzled. “I don’t think so. I know she was interested in local history…”
“No, it’s not that.” I decide to reveal a little more of the truth. “Wren had a… bad experience at a party,” I explain, staying vague.
“And she thought it was connected to a secret society?” he frowns.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” I look down, painfully aware of how crazy it sounds. “I just wondered. You hear rumors,” I add. “Rich and powerful people, up to all kinds of things…”
Phillip looks at me sympathetically. “Look, you don’t need a secret society for bad things to happen. It’s a university town. There are plenty of creeps around.”
“Right,” I agree. But I can’t tell him about Wren’s memories, and the tattoo, and the cryptic notes. I knowI’dthink I was clutching at straws if I was listening to me right now. “It’s probably nothing.”
Phillip’s phone buzzes. And again. He glances at the screen, and winces. “It’s my boss, Valerie. She’s waiting on some materials from me, and…”
“Isn’t exactly the most patient woman?” I finish for him. “It’s fine. Thank you for even taking the time to get together,” I add, as he scoffs down the last of his food, and gets to his feet, clearly eager to get back to work. “It’s nice to hear about the parts of Wren’s life I didn’t get to see. Or understand,” I add wryly, and he smiles.
“Anytime. How much longer are you in Oxford?”