I stare at her, trying to read the subtext in her expression. Sarah has always been ambitious, but there's something different about this conversation. Something that feels rehearsed, like she's following a script she's memorized.
"Why are you really here, Sarah?"
"Because I love you," she says, and for a moment her carefully controlled mask slips. "Because you're brilliant and talented and you deserve to have your work recognized. Because watching you hide in this lab while the world ignores your research is breaking my heart."
The sincerity in her voice almost convinces me. Almost. But Sarah has been practicing manipulation since we were children, and I've learned to recognize when she's playing on my emotions to get what she wants.
"And what do you get out of it?" I ask.
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, Sarah. You don't do anything without a benefit to yourself. What do you get for recruiting me into these Fae research programs?"
Color flushes across her cheekbones, confirming my suspicion. "That's not—I'm not recruiting you. I'm offering you a chance?—"
"To become a subject instead of a researcher?"
"To become a partner!" The words burst out of her with enough force that I take a step backward. "Maya, these institutions don't want subjects. They want collaborators. Scientists who can bridge the gap between human and Fae approaches to biological enhancement."
"And you think they want me for my mind?"
"I know they do."
"How?" I lean against my workbench, studying her expression. "How do you know they want me specifically?"
Sarah hesitates, and in that moment of silence, I see the truth she's trying to hide. This isn't a random opportunity. This is targeted recruitment, and Sarah has been the one providing them with information about me.
"You've been talking to them about me," I say, the pieces clicking together. "For how long?"
"Maya—"
"How long have you been discussing my research with Fae representatives?"
"It's not what you think."
"Then tell me what it is."
Sarah takes a deep breath, and when she speaks, her voice is carefully measured. "There are talent scouts who monitor academic publications. They identify researchers whose work shows promise for collaborative projects."
"Talent scouts." The words taste bitter. "You mean recruiters."
"I mean people who recognize potential when they see it."
"And you pointed them in my direction."
"I mentioned that my sister was doing groundbreaking work in plant fertility research. Work that aligned perfectly with their interests."
"Without asking me."
"Because I knew you'd react exactly like this." Sarah's composure finally cracks, revealing frustration underneath. "Maya, you're so determined to be overlooked that you can't recognize opportunity when it's offered."
"Opportunity to what? Become another missing person?"
"To have your research funded at levels that would take decades to achieve through traditional channels. To work with equipment and specimens you've only dreamed about. To collaborate with beings whose understanding of fertility magic makes our best theories look like elementary school science projects."
Despite myself, I feel a flicker of interest. The Fae courts are rumored to have botanical gardens that defy every law of nature, plants that bloom year-round and produce yields that should be impossible. Access to that kind of data, that level of magical enhancement...
"What exactly are they offering?" I ask.
