"I'm sure they were devastated by my absence," I mutter, finally looking up at her.
Sarah has changed out of her reception outfit into a simple blue dress that somehow manages to look like it cost more than my monthly stipend. Her dark hair falls in perfect waves to her shoulders, and her makeup is flawless despite the late hour. At twenty-eight, she's everything I'm not—confident, accomplished, beautiful in a way that makes people pay attention.
"Don't be like that," she says, settling into the chair across from my desk. "Your stress adaptation research is fascinating. Really groundbreaking work."
"Fascinating enough for Nature to publish it alongside yours?" The words come out sharper than I intended, but I'm tired of pretending her success doesn't sting.
Sarah's expression softens in that way that makes me feel like a petulant child. "Maya, you know academic publishing isn't about whose work is better. It's about timing, audience, market demand?—"
"It's about prestige," I interrupt. "Omega biology research gets funding and attention because it's tied to the Fae courts. Plant fertility studies get buried in agricultural journals where no one will ever read them."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" I gesture toward the window, where the lights from the university's new Omega Research Center glow against the night sky. "When did you last see a news story about drought-resistant crop yields? When did agricultural research get a fifty-million-dollar facility?"
Sarah leans forward, and for a moment I see something vulnerable in her expression. "Maya, there are reasons why omega research gets priority?—"
"Because it's profitable." I turn back to my microscope, unable to stomach another lecture about the greater good. "Because the Fae courts fund universities that produce results they want. Because studying how to make women more fertile serves their political agenda."
"It's not that simple."
"Isn't it?" I adjust the focus again, watching the pollen grains shift in and out of clarity. "Seven years I've been working on fertility research. Seven years studying how reproduction responds to stress, how plants adapt to hostile environments, how life finds ways to continue even when everything seems impossible. And what do I have to show for it? A third-tier publication while you get champagne and congratulations for documenting chemical responses everyone already knew existed."
The silence stretches between us, heavy with years of accumulated disappointment. Sarah has always been the brilliant one, the one who gets noticed, the one professors remember. I've been "Sarah's little sister" since I started graduate school, destined to live in her shadow no matter what I accomplish.
"I didn't come here to argue about research priorities," Sarah says finally. "I came to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. I have something exciting to discuss."
"If it's another networking event where I get to smile while people talk past me?—"
"It's not networking." Sarah's voice takes on an edge of excitement that makes me look up despite myself. "It's an opportunity. A real one, Maya. Something that could change everything for you."
I study her face, looking for the catch. Sarah doesn't do anything without a reason, and her reasons rarely benefit me. "What kind of opportunity?"
"There are research institutions that would kill to have someone with your background and expertise. Places where plant fertility research gets the recognition and funding it deserves."
"What places?"
"Fae-affiliated research academies. They're very interested in scholars who understand reproductive biology from a botanical perspective."
My stomach drops. "Sarah, no."
"Hear me out?—"
"No." I push back from my desk, suddenly feeling trapped in the small lab space. "I'm not interested in becoming another omega research subject."
"That's not what this is about."
"Isn't it?" I cross my arms, trying to ignore the way my heart has started racing. "Fae-affiliated research means omega studies. It means transformation protocols and enhancement procedures and all the things that turned women into magical breeding stock for their courts."
"Maya, you're being dramatic."
"Am I?" The words come out louder than I intend, echoing off the lab walls. "How many women have disappeared into Fae research programs? How many 'voluntary participants' never came back to tell us about their wonderful opportunities?"
Sarah's expression shifts, becomes carefully controlled in a way that sets off every warning bell in my head. "The programs I'm talking about aren't about omega transformation. They're about botanical research. Plant fertility, agricultural enhancement, exactly the kind of work you've been doing."
"With Fae oversight."
"With Fae funding and resources that make our university equipment look like children's toys."
