Rowan stayed the night with Cameron, sure she’d be up once again, but her body thankfully took pity on her, and she was out like a light once her head hit the pillow. She woke rested and alert, albeit slightly achey from sleeping on his couch, buzzing with a sickening mixture of nervousness and excitement the moment her consciousness caught up to her opened eyes. She opted to skip breakfast, fearing her stomach wouldn’t hold any food in its twisting state, so instead, she fueled with some instant coffee from Cameron’s cabinet and set off for ECBS.

Phelps met her at the entrance, a flat palm on her shoulder blade and a wide smile she could never quite muster so early in the morning. The type of warm welcome Rowan was used to receiving from him.

“I’m quite excited, Rowan. I’ll admit, it was a particular pleasure watching Miller dance around the news of my ‘assistant,’ trying to be polite about the sudden addition while likely having a mild panic attack.”

Rowan tried to chuckle despite being mildly horrified by the prospect of Miller not liking her before even meeting because of Phelps desire to yank on some chains.

Her honest reaction must have been written across her face though, because Phelps waved away her concern quickly with another comforting pat on her shoulder and a laugh. “Don’t you worry. Miller will warm up to you once you two meet. Just a little bit of a control complex is all.”

“I hope so. I’m not trying to step on any toes. Just getting to observe is already more than enough. Thank you for doing this for me, Phelps. It’s an amazing opportunity.” She wanted to make sure it was well known how grateful she was.

Phelps wasn’t having her gratitude, though. He waved it away as he had her earlier worry, directing her to follow him as they headed for the elevators. “My pleasure. To be honest, I’m glad you forced me into the situation. It will be nice to have someone there I’m used to working with. Comforting even, since I was finding myself a little apprehensive about the whole thing. It’s… Well, it’s complicated. Better left explained after you know all the details.”

Rowan tried her best to not let her thoughts run away with the hint of Phelps’ concern. Hers were still only just below the surface and waiting for the opportunity to rear their heads again, so she stifled them as best as she could. It tightened her throat to know something had Phelps uncomfortable as well, but she assured herself. If he could be so cheerful, then so could she.

Luckily, a distraction presented itself just in time, as they entered the elevators. Phelps used his security card as usual, necessary to access the other levels of the facility, but unlike usual, instead of choosing one of the upper floors as he did every single day since Rowan’s first one working there, he entered a six-digit code onto the elevators touch display. The speaker chimed in confirmation, and the elevator started moving.

Down.

Rowan’s breath caught in her throat. It was real. The underground. It existed, and she was going there. She would get to see it with her own eyes. A myth, a legend, that just a second ago she was certain was just a dumb story, turned out to be real. In that case, what else had she previously written off that could prove itself to be real in a matter of moments?

With a grin, she thought about how she’d tell Cameron this later, then remembered from this point forward, everything was completely confidential, and felt her heart sink with disappointment.

“Dr. Phelps.”

They were greeted by an armed security guard when leaving the elevator, and Rowan recognized him as the same man who stopped her and Cameron the night all this began. He was tall and built, the bullet proof vest around his chest accentuating his stature, and the assault rifle in his grip caused Rowan to take a subtle step away from him in unease.

“Good morning,” Phelps replied, nodding and smiling politely at the man. The guard missed the friendly cue though, his eyes darting over to Rowan with suspicion on his face. Rowan fidgeted under his scrutinizing gaze, feeling out of place.

Phelps intervened. “Miss Platts here will be accompanying me as my assistant. It won’t be a problem.” He spoke confidently, words holding his authority. The man looked apprehensive, but nodded curtly and directed them down the hall.

Rowan tried to shake off the encounter, following briskly after Phelps, but the lump stayed stuck in her throat. She’d been working at the ECBS for a while now and had grown comfortable with Phelps and her colleagues, despite most of them being twice her age. A mutual respect radiated among the regulars at ECBS; she hadn’t even thought about how she would have to earn her place all over again among Miller’s chosen, who were no doubt an even more elite group of intellectuals and would likely pass judgement on her swiftly.

She tried to keep this in mind, to hold onto her previous confidence and let her abilities speak for themselves, but she could feel her will beginning to crumble under the already immense pressure she put on herself to succeed.

The uncharted territory of this new lab was not helping Rowan feel any less uncomfortable. Everything was much more high-tech than she was used to above-ground. The dry, recycled oxygen, and smell of sterilizing agents that she had become too familiar with over the years were absent. Instead the halls were fresh and cool, the barely-blue tone of the walls only intersected by the metallic shine of each new doorway they passed. Electronic beeps and chimes of security codes and scanners echoed through the halls, and the gentle swishing sound of the sliding glass partitions connecting the corridor to each room, automatically opening and closing as people moved in and out.

They turned down another corridor and stopped at a frosted glass door which Phelps used his security card to open. He entered, and Rowan followed, but she ended up lagging behind him as she absorbed the surroundings, awed.

The room was modest in size, but the air was clean and cool despite the multiple, high-end computers lining the back wall. Powered on and whirring quietly, they added a familiar ambiance behind the chatter. If this room was anything to go by, this underground laboratory had to be where most of the ECBS profits were going.

In the middle of the space sat a number of long tables, curved into a semicircle facing the left, towards the only blank wall, which, along with the number of bodies, didn’t do any favors for the room’s size. A couple computers were occupied, but most of the white-coated doctors stood, idly chatting with each other to occupy their time. She recognized a few faces, but most were strangers, likely members of Dr. Miller’s research team.

Someone called Phelps by his first name, and Rowan’s attention redirected. She hurried to catch up, only to falter again as she realized who Phelps was shaking hands with.

“Margot, it’s been a long time.”

Margot Miller had aged a few years since the most common photo of her circulating the internet were taken, but it was undoubtedly her standing in front of Phelps, their hands clasped over each others in a warm, friendly shake between old friends. Rowan was left in disbelief, breathless and staring with starstruck eyes.

Even though signs of seniority crept in, with the crow's feet at her eyes and peppering of silver strands in her dark hair, she wore her age much better than Phelps. While he had grown fluffy around the waistline and let his beard go less tended to, Miller was a vision in a crisp, white coat: tall, dark, and thin, with deep set eyes hiding behind a pair of rimless glasses.

Miller smiled wide and friendly just as Phelps did, but her body stayed straight postured and precise, noticeably less fluid than Phelps flamboyance as she answered. “It has. Talking is one thing, but finally seeing each other after all these years… How have you been?”

“Well, while you’ve been stirring the pot with controversial topics, I’ve been settling my career and working towards retirement. Perhaps if you did the same, you’d have your own laboratory and wouldn’t have to get me involved in your affairs.” Phelps spoke in his usual chipper tone, but the sarcasm was hard to miss. It would normally have concerned Rowan that her mentor was being so open about his apprehensiveness, but she was too caught up in her awe to be worried.

“You know I’ve always been insatiable, Robert. Settling down is out of the question.” Miller laughed at the double meaning of her own words, patting Phelps’ arm with a slender-fingered hand. “And besides, why would I have my own labs when I know you’ll let me use yours whenever I need it?” she added with a sly grin, discreetly poking fun at Phelps for his well-known weakness of never being able to turn down someone.

When the conversation lulled between them, Miller’s eyes moved from Phelps to Rowan, and she froze all over again under the older woman’s gaze.

“And you must be the wonderful Miss Rowan Platts.” She side-eyed Phelps with a curl of her lip. “Robert’s told me a lot about you, albeit only just yesterday.”

Rowan swallowed hard, somehow forcing herself out of her stunned silence as she reached out for a handshake. When Miller took her hand, the nerves bubbled out of Rowan’s mouth in embarrassed blubbering.

“I’m such a big fan, Dr. Miller. I own all your scientific journals. If there were more photographs of you, I probably would have posted them all over my walls as a kid. Being a woman in the field and being so successful just… It was a huge influence for me. I’m really excited and grateful for this opportunity to work under you and Phelps.”

Rowan could feel her face going red with her over-talk and tried to pull back her outburst into something a little more professional. Miller seemed entertained though, chuckling a little after Rowan managed to reel in her rambling.

“And with how highly Robert speaks of you, I thought I’d be the one sucking up. After all, any assistant of Robert’s must be pretty special.” Miller smiled warmly, glancing around the room for a moment before adding, “I’d really like to talk with you more later, Miss Platts, but for now, we have to get started. If you’ll excuse me.”

Rowan’s heart fluttered at the exchange, the embarrassment on her face going red-hot from the praise and the prospect of speaking even further. She never thought she’d be standing in front of Margot Miller, let alone getting to shake her hand and exchange compliments. She had to fold her fingers together to keep them from shaking, wanting to hold onto her professional aura, but barely keeping a grasp on it.

Miller crossed the room to the blank wall behind them, and as some of the other doctors noticed, they turned from their conversations so the quiet murmur of the room gradually died off. Many took the opportunity to sit at the desks provided, but a few stayed standing, so Rowan opted to keep her spot next to Phelps.

Although she refused to show it, she was terrified to stray from him. She was walking into a lion's den, and while she had been warmly welcomed by the leader, the other doctors were as good as predators, yet to notice her. She feared once they did, they would tear her apart with her own insecurities, so she pushed it away into the deep corners of her skull in hopes they wouldn’t smell it on her.

“Good morning, friends.”

The moment Miller spoke, claps from her team members interrupted her. She soaked up the praise with a humble smile, however, letting the applause go for perhaps a little too long before putting up a hand to stop them. As she started talking again, Rowan noticed Miller’s change in demeanor. She was relatively soft spoken and warm when exchanging pleasantries with her and Phelps, but as she addressed the room, a certain hardness found her tone.

The steady and confident voice of a leader.

“It’s wonderful to see you all here today. I understand the sacrifices many of you are making to join me on this study, but I want to promise, and prove to you today, that your time and effort is not in vain.”

It was a bold statement, a buzz of curiosity circling the crowd, but Miller had spoken in front of others before, and she was good at it, that much was obvious. Rowan felt her stomach twist, but instead of her previous nerves, it was a tight anticipation, excited for what Miller would present them with.

“Most of you know each other, but you’ll notice we have some new faces, courtesy of Dr. Phelps, the owner of this fine facility. Normally, I would start with introductions, since I like my team to work together as one big, happy family, but I think we’ll have the opportunity to get to know each other personally at another time. I can see most of you are eager for me to dive into the juicy details, so I won’t keep you waiting.” When she finished, Miller gave a gentle head tilt to the technician waiting at a computer in the corner.

Rowan’s heart picked up an extra beat. The technician returned a curt nod and swung around in his chair, typing in a line of code and pressing enter. Her eyes jumped around the room when the lights dimmed. Miller stepped aside, presenting the wall behind her as it began to move.

Starting at the center, the wall glided apart in sections, folding under each other in panels. Rowan attempted to conceal her shock, to little avail.

No one else in the room seemed impressed. Miller’s team must have been used to such advanced technology, and to Rowan's side, Phelps’ face turned to cold disconnect, suggesting something grave. The concern didn’t quite manage to pierce Rowan’s amazement, though.

The eight panels tucked snugly away into the adjacent corners, and left in their place was a wall of glass, floor to ceiling, and almost invisible in clarity. Beyond the glass, another room, stark white and lit by fluorescents, housing a bed, sink, toilet…

And a body.