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CHAPTER

FOUR

KARLIN

K arlin tried without success to calm her racing heart as she followed Dr. Bajwa through the lobby of Senera Pharmaceuticals.

The fact that she hadn’t actually broken any rules and had actually volunteered to work overtime on a Sunday was irrelevant.

She knew that the man’s temper was easy to kindle, and his good graces were easier to lose than to regain.

“Ah,” Dr. Bajwa said, gesturing toward a random, empty conference room. “Good enough. I just want to make sure no one is listening in the halls.”

She nodded noncommittally and followed him in, sitting down in one of the modern, uncomfortable chrome and leather chairs.

“I’m sorry for making a call while I was on the clock,” she said quickly. “I had to talk to my brother. It was important, but I should have waited another hour until I was off.”

He looked over at her, his brown-skinned forehead wrinkling in a moment of brief puzzlement.

“Ms. McKenna, focus, please,” he said, clapping his hands together as his face broke into a smile.

She released a breath. She wasn’t in trouble. Actually, the man seemed to be in an absolutely stellar mood.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I wanted you to be first to hear the good news,” he said, leaning forward over the table while somehow managing to keep his wrinkle-less shirt perfectly tucked in. “We did it, Karlin.”

Now it was her turn to look puzzled.

“Did…what?”

“We got a sixty-five-year-old for the next research retreat. Sixty-five! And it’s a male subject!”

Karlin was taken aback, and for a moment, her mouth seemed to cease operating properly.

“Do you not realize the significance of this?” Dr. Bajwa continued, waving his hands in the general direction of the walls.

She nodded. She did. Testing any new drug was difficult, but a psychedelic like DX8 posed additional challenges, especially when it came to finding patients to volunteer for clinical trials.

Young people were significantly more likely to be willing to ingest it—sometimes too willing—which could skew the trial results.

“I understand we’ve been in dire need of older patients for more than a decade, so yes, that’s excellent news,” she said carefully. “I’m just not sure why you would be willing to spend time on a Sunday to come into the office to tell me personally.”

An almost imperceptible look of disdain crossed Dr. Bajwa’s face, only to be replaced by excitement once again. The man was practically bouncing out of his chair.

“You didn’t even let me finish. I just got off the phone with my guy at the FDA. We’re officially moving into Phase II. Efficacy tests. Patients with actual, diagnosable mental disorders to treat. Lives that DX8 will change.”

Karlin took a moment to let his words sink in.

She wanted to share in her boss’s excitement, but she couldn’t shake off her nerves.

Senera had been conducting Phase I safety and dosage tests on the drug that was now known as DX8 for a decade, and had spent untold millions doing so. Things were moving slowly, and in the pharmaceutical industry, if you didn’t innovate, you’d be stomped by someone else who did.

Karlin wanted to move forward, too. But she couldn’t just ignore the red flags.

Especially not when she considered the DX8-related incident that followed her like a ghost.

“Are you sure we’re ready?” she asked. She tried to sound nonchalant, but Dr. Bajwa could sense what lay beneath her light tone at once.

“Of course. Our research retreats this year have been a huge success.”

“What about the blood test results for two of the younger guys back in July? They both had elevated hematocrit levels at the end of the retreat.”

“Barely elevated, Karlin. Those results could be–shall we say–interpreted as a rounding error.”

He gave her a pointed look.

“The FDA has already been informed of the amended report stating as much.”

“You signed off on this?” Karlin said incredulously.

Dr. Bajwa shook his head. “It’s your file. I need your signature.”

“You’re asking me to fudge research data so that we can give a psychedelic drug to mentally ill patients?”

Her voice seemed to echo against the sleek walls of the conference room.

“Please keep your voice down,” Dr. Bajwa said firmly.

“Think about the big picture, Karlin. Medical research isn’t for the faint of heart.

We can’t let miniscule anomalies get in the way.

It’s slightly elevated hematocrit in two patients who have just spent two weeks in the North Texas desert. In summer. Think about it.”

She gripped the edge of her chair. He did have a point. Dehydration was by far the most likely explanation for the test results, especially in two healthy young men. But that didn’t justify lying to regulators.

“I can’t do that,” she said, forcing her voice to lower. “We need to account for every potential risk factor that comes up. We can’t just pick and choose because the executives are getting impatient.”

“You think I care about the executives?” he snapped. “You think it’s about a nice bonus and a bigger office?”

“I didn’t say that, I–”

“Good. Because that’s nonsense, and you know it. No. This is about this life changing, life saving, incredible medicine. It’s about making the world a better place. I thought you believed in the work we’re doing here.”

Karlin swallowed hard. “I do. But we’ve had safety issues a lot worse than elevated hematocrit.”

“We have had one death connected to DX8,” Dr. Bajwa replied slowly, his voice low and dangerous. “One. A decade ago. It was a tragedy, but we have no idea what role, if any, DX8 played.”

Easy for him to say. He hadn’t been working at Senera then. He hadn’t met the victim. He hadn’t seen pictures of the husband and the little girl that she had left behind.

“I just want to make sure nothing like that comes close to happening again. That’s all.”

“Good. We’re in agreement. When I interviewed for this job, I demanded to see Amira’s file,” Dr. Bajwa said, his eyes softening as he leaned against the conference table.

“I examined it thoroughly. I agree that her suicide was a tragedy. But you should know better than anyone else here that tough decisions must be made when it comes to furthering the greater good.”

He paused, allowing his words to hang in the silence.

Suddenly, the conference room felt cold.

All at once, Karlin was the terrified junior researcher she’d been ten years ago. Back then, she’d been scared of not being able to pay back her student loans. Now, she had John to take care of.

She had personally signed off on allowing Amira to enter that Phase I trial despite the woman’s history of severe depression. Whether or not she’d been manipulated into doing it was irrelevant. She had blood on her hands.

And Senera–and apparently, Dr. Bajwa–knew it.

If she refused to fiddle with the research data, would they punish her for crossing them?

They could blacklist her in the medical research field. Senera was powerful. All they had to do was spread a rumor or two, and she’d never work in a research lab again.

And that was far from the worst thing that could happen to her.

After Amira’s death, Senera had managed to successfully argue in court that a lightning strike had damaged their computer servers, creating a ripple effect that had led to the destruction of much of their trial data.

Karlin had never believed them, especially considering the company’s penchant for keeping what she considered an excess of paper records. She suspected there was evidence that implicated her, hidden away somewhere in case they ever needed someone to sacrifice.

She was trapped.

But still, every so often, a small ray of hope flickered in the back of her mind.

The slightest possibility of a way out, always there in the background, waiting for her, just in case the time came when she really needed it.

Maybe that time was now.

The thought filled her with dread, but she forced herself to ignore her feelings. If she could keep her emotions in check, she could think. She could at least get an idea of what her options were.

All she had to do was make a call.

“I’ll let you know tomorrow what I decide,” she said at last, catching Dr. Bajwa’s dark, brooding eyes and daring him to argue with her. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to head home.”

Without waiting for permission, she strode out of the building and into the biting cold of the desert night.

She had another phone call to make.

And if there really was some God out there beyond the twinkling stars, she hoped he was looking down on her now.

Because if this didn’t work, she was officially out of options.

And John would be the one to pay the price.