Chapter 12 - The Night Greg Said Leo Was Not Worth a Shift
Thomas kept thinking about Greg’s first sentence.
“He’s not worth missing a shift over.”
At the time it sounded like contempt.
Now it carried another meaning.
Greg’s shift was at Northshore.
The company connected to the implant.
He was not simply trying to get back to work.
He may have been afraid his absence would trigger questions about N09.
His badge records showed he was scheduled at 5:00 a.m.
Research operations had a Day 87 status meeting at 6:00.
Greg was expected to report Leo’s condition.
If he arrived with antibiotics and said:
Minor spider bite.
The program could continue.
If he said:
Outside ER found implant.
Everything stopped.
That was the choice he made at 3:14.
Not child versus work.
Child versus seventy thousand dollars, debt, and exposure.
Greg’s attorney argued he genuinely believed the swelling was a bite.
Messages contradicted that.
The afternoon before ER:
Greg to Kara:
Cheek huge again.
Kara:
Fever?
Greg:
Maybe.
Kara:
Take him to designated clinic now.
Greg:
Closed.
Kara:
On call number.
Greg:
Cannot. Jen home.
Kara:
Then tell her.
No response.
Kara had told him to seek care.
He chose concealment.
Later:
Greg searched:
antibiotics facial infection urgent care.
Then:
can ER see microchip xray.
Then:
remove implant at home.
He did not attempt removal himself.
Thank God.
But he knew what doctors would discover.
Leo’s dropped reader had been in his hoodie because Greg forced him to carry it from the truck.
Why?
Greg did not want hospital security finding the reader in his possession if he decided to leave Leo and run.
That possibility appeared in a text draft:
If they ask, device Leo’s.
He was preparing to place ownership on the child.
Leo had no idea what it did.
The cruelty had layers.
Then Northshore’s independent review released preliminary findings to investigators.
Twelve pediatric subjects.
Nine completed implants.
Three withdrew before placement.
No valid central pediatric ethics approval located.
Some parents had knowingly consented to implants.
Others received incomplete disclosures.
At least two guardian records appeared defective.
N09 was the clearest.
Northshore tried to blame NerveLine.
NerveLine blamed Northshore recruitment.
Dr. Hale blamed operations.
Kara blamed enrollment pressure.
Everyone had a piece.
Redwood Medical paused all transaction discussions.
That meant bonuses evaporated.
Greg’s 40,000 acquisition incentive disappeared even if he had reached Day 90.
His entire financial plan collapsed.
Jennifer did not celebrate.
The collapse did not restore Leo’s three months.
Then another family contacted Bayhaven.
Not for emergency care.
For information.
The mother of Subject N04.
Her son had experienced recurrent swelling.
She had been told it was normal tissue adaptation.
Now she wanted independent evaluation.
Thomas referred her through proper pediatric specialists.
He did not become investigator for every child.
His job remained medicine.
But the case expanded beyond one room.
That changed Bayhaven too.
Administration reviewed research related presentations.
Any child with an unusual implanted device now triggered additional questions.
Not panic.
Awareness.
Leo returned to school after ten days.
He wore a small bandage.
Some kids asked.
Jennifer told the teacher only what Leo wanted shared.
No dramatic school assembly.
No public hero story.
He had already been turned into data by too many adults.
He deserved privacy.
Then Detective Bell brought Jennifer a recovered Northshore email.
Subject:
N09 recruitment.
Date:
Before Greg enrolled him.
Dr. Hale wrote:
Maternal legacy data makes this child unusually valuable. Prioritize even if guardian pathway complicated.
Guardian pathway complicated.
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They knew from the beginning that Leo’s consent situation was not straightforward.
Continue to the next part: Senior researchers selected Leo despite knowing Greg’s authority to enroll him was legally questionable.
