Chapter 117: After descending the winding mountain road, Allison headed her car back toward Muisvedo, her attention divided between driving and a phone conversation with the director of the MDH Pharmaceutical Research Institute.
So, you're telling me that The drug is still in the experimental phase.
How much time do we have left, he asked, his voice high with impatience.
If Allison wanted to discover the truth about Kinslee, she first had to replace a way to treat his condition.
Alzheimer's.
Miss Clarke, as you know, Alzheimer's research is a difficult path.
We have been working on it for years, but there are no quick solutions.
That said, we have made progress.
The drug is advancing in trials, but it requires more time, the voice on the other end explained cautiously.
Allison knew there were no shortcuts: rushing could have disastrous results.
He couldn't afford to use an unreliable treatment on Kinslee.
After a brief conversation, she ended the call and turned her attention back to the road.
When she finally reached Muisvedo, the warehouse that housed the server loomed before her, hidden in a maze of alleys and parked cars.
As he exited the vehicle, his attention was drawn to a huge electronic billboard across the street.
Its colorful poster advertised a series of comics.
New series by original artist Onyx Jiménez, now on sale! Several young women with megaphones were enthusiastically promoting the latest news.
Nearby, a group of fans was buzzing with enthusiasm.
Onyx Jiménez is incredible.
He's the sexiest comic book artist there is, one of them exclaims.
Yes, and I've heard that he's young - he's barely twenty - and very easy on the eyes.
Plus, her stories are great, another added.
Allison usually dismissed these distractions as noise, but something about the art style of the cover caught her attention.
He picked up one of the comics and flipped through it.
With each turn, his expression hardened and his mood changed like a sudden drop in temperature.
Those nearby stepped back instinctively, feeling the unspoken tension radiating from her.
The script, the flow, the plot… it was all too familiar.
They were the abandoned drafts of his Leswington days, now repackaged under a different name.
His finger traced the title: Onyx Jimenez.
A dry laugh escaped him.
So it was an old acquaintance, the editor he had worked with.
This cartoonist really is so popular.
Allison asked a nearby girl, her voice carefree but with a hint of curiosity.
The girl blinked in surprise before nodding.
Yes, Onyx Jiménez is taking the Internet by storm.
Next week he will have a signing event at the Commerce Building.
If you like her work, you should check it out.
Next week, huh Allison mused, putting down the comic.
She wasn't one to rush, but for something as fun as this, she could make time.
The girl hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you know him?" Allison's lips curved into a slight smile.
No.
If Onyx had been working behind his back and pulled a trick like this, there was no chance he wanted her to replace out.
Everything fell into place.
After Allison disappeared from Leswington without a trace, it made sense that Onix would have dared to pass off her discarded drafts as her doing.
In her mind, she probably never thought their paths would cross again, especially not in Ontdale.
There was a time when Allison would have barged in, demanding answers from anyone who dared to steal her ideas.
But those days were behind us.
Right now, her priority was fixing the server.
After fixing things in Muisvedo, Allison returned home, washed off the day in a steamy shower, and lay on the bed, muttering under her breath: I'm losing my touch.
She hadn't worked with servers in ages, and even a little troubleshooting had left her with a throbbing headache.
The task seemed to exhaust her more than before.
With a resigned sigh, she let her eyes get lost in the moonlight that spilled onto the floor through the gaps in the curtains.
Her thoughts drifted to the mountain that awaited her: the battle to help Kinslee fight Alzheimer's.
And, like a thorn in his side, there was the one person he couldn't avoid: Kellan.
He needed to get on her side, and fast.
His trust was the key that would allow him to take Kinslee abroad to receive the treatment he so desperately needed.
Then there was the Charisma Company: every corner of its past had to be thoroughly examined.
No stone could be left unturned.
After some reflection, Allison decided to send a message to Kellan: Mr.
Lloyd, that business partnership you mentioned is still on the table.
His response was almost instantaneous.
Yes.
I keep my promises.
There was no need for further explanation; They both understood what was at stake without needing to explain it.
If you're open to it, I can offer you more shares.
It's not necessary, 30% is enough.
Kellan hesitated for a moment, typing and deleting, before deciding on a direct answer.
We have a dedicated laboratory.
You can come anytime, Miss Clarke.
Even coming once a month will be enough.
I appreciate it, I really do.
Kellan stared at his message, the words lingering on the screen like a soft smile that curved the edges of Allison's lips.
Before he knew it, he found himself smiling at his phone, deep in thought.
Meanwhile, Jim, who had passed by the couch, noticed Kellan's distracted state.
He had been staring at the screen for forever.
Something was definitely up.
.
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