Chapter 6: Who Else Was Involved
Dr.
Voss's office was on the fourth floor of the administration building, a small room with two chairs across from her desk and a window that looked out over the parking structure.
She was on the phone when I arrived.
She held up one finger, finished the call, and set the phone down.
"Congratulations," she said.
"Adrian told me."
"Thank you."
"Sit down."
I sat.
She opened the folder on her desk — a thicker one now than the one she'd carried into my parents' kitchen that morning.
"Your sister contacted us directly at noon," she said.
"She came in person.
With a lawyer."
I hadn't expected that.
"Already?"
"The lawyer advised her to cooperate in exchange for a reduced finding.
She gave us a full account." Dr.
Voss looked at me steadily.
"Your sister did not act alone.
She was assisted by a man named Garrett Pell.
Do you know that name?"
The name landed somewhere specific.
"He's a licensing consultant.
He contacted me eight months ago through the university's tech transfer office.
I declined to work with him."
"He contacted your sister approximately one week after you declined.
He told her that your research had significant commercial value — his estimate was in the range of four to eight million dollars in licensing fees over ten years — and that if she could obtain a copy of the core methodology files before the patent was formally filed, he had a buyer who would pay for early access."
I looked at the window.
"He told her it wasn't illegal," Dr.
Voss continued.
"That it was a gray area.
That families shared intellectual property all the time."
"It isn't a gray area."
"No.
It isn't." She turned a page.
"He coached her on what to look for in your files.
He told her which university systems to access and how.
The two access attempts on the archive — the device was hers, but the instructions came from him.
He sent them in writing, which was not a wise decision on his part."
"She kept the messages."
"She did.
Whether out of caution or because she wanted leverage over him, I can't say.
But she kept everything." Dr.
Voss closed the folder.
"Garrett Pell is not affiliated with this university.
The matter will be referred to the appropriate legal authorities.
Your sister faces a university finding of research interference, which carries its own consequences, but the more serious legal exposure belongs to him."
"What consequences does Lila face from the university?"
"She has no university affiliation, so we have no disciplinary authority over her directly.
However, the finding becomes part of the formal record and will be shared with law enforcement as part of the broader referral." She paused.
"That's not nothing."
"No," I said.
"It isn't."
Dr.
Voss looked at me for a moment.
"She said something when she came in.
Before her lawyer arrived and advised her to stop talking." She seemed to be deciding whether to tell me.
"She said she didn't think you'd actually go through with the defense.
She said she thought you'd panic and come home."
"She's known me my whole life," I said.
"Yes."
"And she still thought that."
Dr.
Voss didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
I picked up my bag.
"One more thing," she said.
"The buyer Pell had lined up — the company that wanted early access to your methodology before the patent filed — we've identified them.
They're a mid-size medical technology firm.
They've been notified that they are named in the referral."
I stopped at the door.
"The pilot hospital discussions," I said.
"Will this affect them?"
"I spoke with the technology transfer office this afternoon.
Their position is that the formal patent filing, which went through this morning while you were defending, protects the work completely.
The pilots can proceed."
The patent had filed this morning.
While I was in that room defending five years of work, the legal protection had quietly locked into place.
"Thank you," I said.
"For driving forty minutes this morning."
Dr.
Voss allowed herself a small smile.
"It was fifty, actually.
There was construction on the bridge."
I walked out into the late afternoon.
The parking structure cast a long shadow across the path.
My phone showed three missed calls from my mother and one from my father.
I didn't call back.
May you like
Not yet.
There was one more conversation I needed to have first — and it wasn't with them.
