After Shanley left, Juniper stood in place for a long time before composing herself and returning to the lab.
“Juniper, do you want to take a break?” the director asked with concern. She had just returned from Liberty Island, a long and exhausting journey.
“No need.” Juniper shook her head, closing up her sterile protective suit as she spoke. “Let’s begin.”
Over the next few days, to ensure the cultivation of the herb was a success, Juniper practically slept in the laboratory. But ‘sleep’ was a generous term; she never truly fell asleep. Habit was a terrifying thing. For her, being away from Shanley felt like a part of her soul had been ripped away.
Finally, after days of relentless effort, the grafts of the A-N0 herb successfully sprouted. Ten whole shoots. Even if some failed later, they now had backups.
“Juniper, the herb is stable for now. You don’t have to put so much pressure on yourself,” the director said, concerned. “You haven’t had a good night’s sleep in days. Go home tonight and catch up. I’ll personally watch over things here.”
“Besides,” the director leaned in and whispered, “it’s not fair to make Mr. Schwartz wait outside for you every night, is it?”
“What?” Juniper froze mid-stretch, her gaze snapping toward him with confusion.
“Since the day you entered the lab, Mr. Schwartz has been here every night, waiting for you. What, you didn’t know?”
Juniper frowned, set down what she was holding, and walked outside.
In the dark courtyard, a tall, imposing figure stood beneath a withered sycamore tree, fallen leaves dusting his shoulders. The cold moonlight stretched his shadow, outlining his silhouette in a faint, ethereal glow.
Sensing her presence, the man suddenly turned. The moment he saw her, he strode forward with long legs.
“Are you finished?”
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