“Okay. Be safe,” I whispered, and Jay gave me a curt nod.
“You too.” And with that, he turned to Melanie and gestured for her to lead the way.
“After you, Ms. Larson,” Jay said cooly, and Melanie shot me a dangerous look that made me feel like separating was a mistake.
I’m not going anywhere, Milo.
But he was. He was going to meet some mysterious stranger without me, and I was going to face the bad guys alone.
Nothing about this felt right… But there was nothing I could do.
So, instead of dwelling on the feelings of dread that were threatening to consume me, I forced myself to head in the opposite direction.
Away from NeuroWell.
Away from Jay.
The Cortex was an open-air amphitheatre, designed to look like a contemporary artist’s take on a conch shell.
Massive, white, layered awnings that housed AV equipment and industrial-grade lighting curled in artful layers over the back of the large, round stage, which sat like a pearl in the center of rows upon rows of ascending curved seats.
Screens the size of football fields were set up strategically so those seated toward the back could still get a close-up view of whatever was being presented on stage.
They were necessary today, considering it was a full house. Making this meetingmandatoryreally opened my eyes to just how many people worked at Neurovance.
Everyonewas here, from the top-level C-suite, down to the mostentry-level administrative assistant, and everyone wasexcited.
The only person whowasn’there was Sebastian.
I’d done a cursory check of where all the news stations had set up their equipment, and hadn’t seen him anywhere.
The front rows of the audience were filled with NeuroWell and NeuroComm employees, but Seb wasn’t in his assigned seat on the NeuroComm side. Jay’s seat was empty on the NeuroWell side too, and I didn’t miss the way employees from both departments kept glancing at the empty seats and whispering to each other, wondering where their executive officers were.
Frowning, I fired off a text to Jay, letting him know Seb wasn’t here as far as I could tell, which was strange… but he didn’t reply.
My stomach churned with nausea, and I slid my phone back into my pocket, resolving to move forward with the plan as best I could on my own.
I made my way backstage, tugging the sleeve of my shirt more firmly down on my wrist to ensure there was no chance of anyone seeing the medical tape and gauze Jay had wrapped around my wound as I went.
One of the floor managers for NeuroComms ushered me through security and brusquely sat me down to get me set up with a hands-free microphone.
“Cutting it close, darling. You’re almost due to go on… not much I can do with your hair this late in the game. Thank goodness you’re Sr. Staff, so I don’t need to worry about make-up.”
“Wh-what?”
She fastened what seemed to be a high-tech headband to my forehead and pressed a button on the side of it.
“There you are. It’s a cloaking device. It means you can go on camera and your real features will appear modified enough that no one will recognize you on the street. Just feels more personable than wearing a mask. Allows the audience to reallyconnect,you know?” She was rambling, but I was barely listening.
What I was about to do was finally sinking in. I was going to have to present in front ofthousandsof people… on stage… while doing something that wasn’t onlyunethical,it was straight up illegal on a federal level.
Ever since memory technology had been approved by the CDRH, strict opt-in-only legislation had been passed regarding the use of these devices on members of the public. If I successfully altered Luke’s memories the way I intended and got caught, I was facing up to 15 years in prison.
But… as scary as this was… as much aseveryfiber of my being was telling me to run away from here… the thought of what would happen to Jay if I didn’t do this was scarier.
I couldn’t leave him trapped here like this.
Even if we cut his chip out, Luke had more money and power than I could possibly fathom. We would never escape him just by running.
