Page 17 of Saint of the Shadows

“No! You’re the bravest person I know, and I thought you should wear something, well, brave.” She popped another morsel of food into her mouth and pushed it into the inside of her cheek. “And you’re wearing it, so a part of you thinks it’s a killer dress too.”

“I’m the only one here dressed for a party.”

“In all fairness, I imagined this crowd would be exponentially more festive.”

“Doctors, scientists, and the people who fund them are festive?”

“Don’t poke holes in my logic. I either invented a wonder drug, discovered a new species, or all the above. I want to celebrate.”

Marisol relaxed her arms and chuckled. “Congratulations.”

Inside the nook’s protection, a series of family portraits of the Varian family hanging on the wall drew Marisol’s focus. In one, a balding man resembled Albert Einstein’s hairless twin with sagging jowls and sad, brown puppy dog eyes. He sat on a chair and looked straight ahead while ayoung blue-eyed man stood behind him with his hand placed on the old man’s shoulder. It was labeled Leonard and Vincent.

Annie studied the portrait. “The Varians had a legacy of discovery and scientific progress. This one, Leonard, the nuclear physicist, was a wunderkind of the Manhattan Project and started the hospital. Before him, great-grandad Varian worked with Marie Curie. It’s all so cool. And Victor was an amazing medical doctor, but Vincent... gave operational control to the board a little over a year ago. Everything but the side project, some say. All he knows is how to spend the family money. How the mighty have fallen.” Annie sighed and positioned herself before a photo of Dr. Victor Varian and his wife, Staci. Annie’s gaze lingered over the photo, showing how much she admired the doctor.

Marisol squinted at the portrait of the two men. “They look nothing alike.”

“Looks must’ve skipped that generation because they are definitely strong with the doctor. He could be Vincent’s twin, except,” Annie lowered her volume to a whisper, “he’d be the smart one.”

The portrait hypnotized Marisol. “It must’ve been painted after the ski accident. Their eyes. They look so sad.”

“Let’s move. There’s shrimp cocktail.” Annie yankedMarisol away.

Before making it too far into the ballroom, Annie stopped and gasped. “Don’t look. My kind-of, sort-of archnemesis from undergrad is over there.”

“What?”

“Frickin’ Sandra Farraday. Dr. Farraday. I only had a few classes with her, but she had this interpretation of string theory that was positively…” Annie’s eyes crossed.

Marisol spotted a woman with a sharply angled bob in a black velvet gown. “That good, huh?”

“I thought she was all the way in Switzerland working for that particle accelerator.” Annie’s eyes widened, and she gripped Marisol’s arm. “What if she’s working on Varian’s secret project? I’ll find out.” Annie cleaned her glasses and smoothed her chignon just so. “She probably doesn’t remember me.” She headed toward Dr. Farraday.

Marisol stuck by the spread of food and watched as Annie grew livelier and less aware of her growing distance between them. Annie’s laugh traveled across the room, a sign that she and the other doctor had recalled an inside joke. One that Marisol would never get.

Vulnerable in the middle of the room, Marisol snuck to its edge and resolved to walk along the shadows, away from the crowd.

Flashes from photographers’ cameras popped over and over into a roar. The crowd applauded. Vincent Varian and his date, a young model made famous on social media, descended the stairs. Shelooked like a confection. Her hair dyed bright baby blue with a matching tight satin dress.

Although Marisol disdained the billionaire, in person and free of the armor of a coat, gloves, and sunglasses, he appeared all-the-more dashing. His tuxedo was tailored close to his body, emphasizing his broad shoulders. Definitely a middleweight. And the small cleft in his chin, Marisol couldn’t help but admit, was especially charming.

From the stairs, Vincent announced, “I hosted this party to emphasize the many ways our hospital and research have saved lives.” After years of prep school and surrounding himself with the country’s elites, he sounded like no one else in Shadowhaven with his crisp consonants and the occasional elongated vowel. Though deep and full, his voice grated her ears as he seemed to try so hard to sound sophisticated. He continued, “We’re here to raise awareness and fund treatment for our world’s most precious lives—children. In bringing together our doctors, our researchers, and Shadowhaven’s elite, we hope to raise enough money so that no child who walks in the doors of our hospital, regardless of ability to pay, is without the finest care. Cheers to you and your hard work. To the finer people!”

People cheered, and the music continued to play. Vincent’s date posed awkwardly against the ballroom’s filigree. A dutiful photographer snapped multiple angles of the blue-haired woman. It seemed she would’ve been willing to be anyone’s date as long as she got a good photo. Annie wouldfind this hilarious. Where was she? Marisol traipsed the room to find her.

She found Annie finishing a flute of champagne and grabbing another from the conveniently stationed server’s tray. A semi-circle of stately elderly people hovered around Annie, as if she was the hired entertainment for the night. Annie’s face had gone pale, and she fidgeted with her champagne glass. If Annie’s nerves and the air of nobility from these people were any indication, Annie stood before the board. And their names were Fluffy Brows, Jowly Paunch, White Updo, Skeleton, and Dad ‘Stache. Not really, but Marisol rolled with the information available to her.

Fluffy Brows threw his head back and laughed. He pushed Skeleton toward Annie. “Meet this wonderful young lady who continues Dr. Varian’s research.”

“Hi, I’m Dr. An Jung Park or Annie, rather. I experiment in pharmaceuticals but specialize in coding chemical compounds to particular genetic traits.” Annie offered her hand to Skeleton, who shook it. And squeezed it and shook it again.

Marisol fluttered her eyes at Annie, psychically communicating,These people are weird.

Skeleton clenched his teeth together in a forced smile. To be all the more skeletal, my dear.

“How do you align chemicals with genetic traits?” Fluffy Brows waved his hands in the air as if he conjured the answer from Annie.

Annie sipped the champagne and rubbed her lips together. “In my work, we’ve looked at the genetic properties of superhumans. Not the type you’d read fantastical stories about in the comics, but you know, people with exaggerated physical characteristics such as overactive muscle development or extra lung capacity. We’ve studied the molecular properties of their DNA to synthesize and replicate those traits to help chronically ill lab mice. We haven’t been successful so far because cellular respiration loses any gains. But if I found the right molecular compound that made cells impervious? Varian Research could possibly create noninvasive, consumable gene therapy. Or a shot of perfection.” Annie finished her champagne. “Disease-free. Ageless. We could do it. In my lifetime. Maybe even within the year.”

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