Addison barely had time to tell anyone she was taking a half day before she rushed out of Waystation Helios.

She knew she couldn't rely on the bus to just magically show up, and so she walked home. In heels and a lab coat, on a hot day when her endless supply of tears had already turned her mascara into a horror show.

She walked, keeping her attention straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might try and talk to her. It was the rudest she'd ever been since she'd been transferred to Everton and Waystation Helios, but she just couldn't handle talking to anyone right now.

She knew there was a good chance word of her current state would get back to Meg and Ash. They would likely stop by with heaps of greasy food and a bottle of wine and expect her to let them in and be willing to talk about what had happened until she found some catharsis.

But Addison wasn't entirely sure she would ever find catharsis. Not about this. Because the moment she left that room, she could feel her heart being torn in two.

It was ridiculous from a scientific perspective. Everything she was feeling was just a chemical reaction caused by one part biology and one part social programming. There was no such thing as a broken heart. And yet…

She climbed the stairs to her flat and fumbled for her keys. As soon as she was inside, she all but collapsed against the closed door and just sobbed. Deep, soul-wracking sobs that wrung her out with every gasp for air.

Her actions were justified. Even disregarding what was best for Karuvar and humans alike, Addison knew she couldn't be what Kor'ven needed. He didn't want someone to challenge him. He fought with her at every turn, and the only times they'd actually worked together were when they had no other choice.

She refused to make herself smaller for him. She refused to fall into the role of devoted mate and mother while Kor'ven received accolades for his brilliant work. She'd seen what that had done to her mother--how miserable it had made her. She absolutely refused to follow in her footsteps.

But when she thought of Kor'ven's face, of those violet eyes searching hers so helplessly, some part of her desperately wanted to run back to that Waystation and tell him she was wrong; tell him that the connection they had went far beyond just one night.

The hell of it was, it had only taken her a few steps to realize she'd been utterly unfair. She'd been able to feel that pain rolling off of him, and for half a second, she let herself unpack it and examine it. What she found there had made her pick up the pace--had made her decide to leave the Waystation for the day instead of just burying herself in her work.

He was right. He had every reason to resist altering the master code. The previous Pathfinder had forced him to be a part of something that compromised his integrity, as a scientist and as a Karuvar. And because of that, he'd lost everything. His mate, his child, and no doubt the respect of any colleagues who knew about it, too, considering his beliefs.

He had confided all of this in her, told her things that could get him dismissed from Drol'gan's service, and she had tossed it all back in his face.

Addison curled up against the door, drawing her knees up to her chest. When she was a girl, her mother had taught her to always pursue what she knew to be right, what she knew to be true, no matter the cost. She'd lived her life by that philosophy, but it had been less than an hour and the cost already felt far too high.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there on the floor, but eventually she forced herself to her feet and made her way to the stove, putting a kettle over the fire. Another thing she'd retained from her childhood: hot tea when she was upset.

Addison stood there while the leaves steeped and tried to consider her options. She could go back and apologize; find some way to work with Kor'ven and Drol'gan and still protect the future of their two species. But if she did that, she was letting go of what she knew was right, and she wasn't sure she could live with herself if she did that.

The only other option, she supposed, was to somehow convince Drol'gan that the master code absolutely needed to be changed, but she was unsure of how to do that. And she knew doing it would absolutely destroy any chance she had of patching things up with Kor'ven.

It was a choice, then. Her own integrity, her own beliefs, her worth as a scientist… or Kor'ven. She always thought such a choice would be easy. A no-brainer, as they said. But now she was beginning to understand how her mother might have come to the conclusion she had.

God. Her mother had been pregnant with her fairly early on in her relationship with her father. What if she, too, was already pregnant?

Her hand moved absently to her stomach just as a knock sounded at the door. Dread coiled in her. Would Kor'ven have found her? She remembered Meg saying Verkiir had tracked her down after she walked away from him. But Kor'ven seemed more… rational than Verkiir, to put it mildly. She couldn't imagine him showing up at her door, and she couldn’t feel him that close.

"Just a second," she said, fishing the leaves out and setting her cup on the counter to cool just a bit.

As she walked to the door, she realized for the first time that she felt… unwell. Feverish, when it wasn't remotely hot. Clammy, as if she'd been sweating for hours. Her stomach wasn't just in knots, it seemed sour. Her little crisis had managed to mask much of the physical anguish, but she certainly felt it now.

She knew what it was. Mates did not do well apart. It lessened somewhat after they were mated, but Addison still felt like death warmed over. Maybe her body knew somehow that she'd rejected Kor'ven and things were only going to get worse from here.

She pushed that thought away and stood on her tip-toes to look through the peephole. No one was standing in the hallway, and Addison frowned as she undid the locks.

Opening the door changed nothing. There was still no one there. When she looked down, though, she saw a scrap of paper on the floor. Bending down, Addison picked it up and read the tight, neat handwriting:

You're in over your head. Turn back now.

Her brow furrowed and she glanced either way down the hall. "Is this someone's idea of a prank? Because I'm not in the mood."

Now she remembered why she spent so little time here. Aside from the biting loneliness, she also had to contest with bored teenagers who had nothing better to do with their time.

But as she read the letter again, Addison got the distinct feeling that this wasn't some prank. You're in over your head. Turn back now. Those words meant something, and they could only be in regards to her work.

…What if this letter was written by the same person who tampered with Vazik's implant? Or if not them, someone who was directly involved with them? What if they were trying to stop her from pursuing this any further?

She brought the letter inside and held it up to the light, searching for a watermark or anything else that might give the writer away. There was nothing, and she didn't recognize the penmanship. But something in her told her this was more than it seemed, and she was forced to weigh it into her choice.

She could return to Helios and make peace with Drol'gan and Kor'ven. Show them the letter and have them… what? Dismiss it? Push it to the back-burner?

No. She couldn't do that.

The other option, though, was one that terrified her. She took no issue with standing up to Drol'gan, but proving him wrong on this matter was dangerous. She'd have to somehow prove that the clock was their enemy, and that individual fixes just weren't going to cut it, but the only way to do that would be to deliberately alter an implant's code and allow it to stay altered for several days without intervention. She wasn't going to subject an innocent to that.

But perhaps...

Addison glanced down at her arm, at the spidery patterns that radiated out from her implant. She could alter her own code. Just one small change that she could control. Enough to compromise her immune system, but not enough to put her in any real danger. It would prove that individual manipulation was too slow, too risky; that they would be safer altering the master code.

She wasn't a geneticist, though. And what if altering her implant somehow made it not respond to Kor'ven's anymore? If he could create mates out of nothing, perhaps alteration could also destroy them.

But then… was that really the worst thing?

Yes, some part of her screamed, and yet she was able to bury it down deep. Yes, it would hurt, but no more than the inevitable. She couldn't be Kor'ven's mate. She knew that. At least this way, maybe they would be spared the side effects.

It was crazy, but what choice did she have? Someone obviously didn't want her to get to the bottom of this, and that was precisely why she needed to take such drastic action.

The world will tell you you're wrong, baby girl, her mother used to tell her. But you'll know. Deep down, you'll know when you're doing the right thing.

And she did.

Letting out a slow breath, Addison grabbed her cup of tea, crossed the kitchen to her terminal, and got to work.