5. Biomarker
5
Biomarker
Biomarker: A measurable substance in an organism that indicates a condition such as disease or infection.
OLIVER
“ S o, Oliver, how is work?”
It was the question I’d been anticipating, and dreading, since we’d sat down at my grandparents’ Thanksgiving table. My grandmother, who’d asked it, turned her sharp gaze on me. Three other heads—my grandfather’s, my mother’s, and my father’s—swiveled to face me.
Snow shushed against the window behind my parents. I could still see the stand of maple trees that lined the front of my grandparents’ property, but the flakes were getting bigger. It gave no signs of stopping anytime soon, which meant I was trapped in Dover, Massachusetts, a town without as much as a bar, tonight. And from the sharp gazes directed at me, I was going to want something stronger than sauvignon blanc.
With the ornate sterling-silver fork, I pushed the dried-out stuffing to the edge of my Wedgwood dinner plate. Faded blue flowers peeked out from under the pool of cranberry sauce.
“It’s going okay, I guess.”
“‘Okay?’” My father’s eyes were blue and wary, like mine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I set down my fork. “The new test we’re working on is promising. But I’m getting pressure from the board to speed up development. Which, as you know, creates risk.”
“Risk?” He grimaced. If anyone understood risk, it was my dad, a former executive at a top insurance corporation in Boston. Even in his retirement, he worried about everything from his house’s pipes in winter to the Pats’ quarterback’s rotator cuff. “Is that something you can afford to take on in your business?”
“Exactly!” I leaned back in my chair. Finally, someone understood.
“Can you afford not to take a risk?” my grandfather said. Before retiring, he’d worked in banking. “No risk, no reward.”
“It’s not just money I work with, Grandfather. It’s people’s health. Their lives.”
“Just money?” he and my father said at the same time.
“Without money,” my grandfather said, “there’d be no funds to invest in your laboratory. How would you hire people to develop your products?”
“Without money,” my father said, “how could medical insurers pay for tests and treatments?”
I put up my palms. “I understand money is important. It’s why we brought in investors and a board of directors.” I nodded at my grandfather, who, as one of our first investors, sat on the board. “Their responsibility is fiduciary. My responsibility is the science and the patients. People we can help with our tests.” I glanced at my mother, who’d been uncharacteristically silent. “People like Grandma Vee.”
She pursed her lips. “My mother couldn’t have afforded your tests. She didn’t have health insurance.”
“But if this test is successful, it’ll detect cancers like hers earlier, noninvasively. Cheaply, even,” I argued, glancing at the two financial experts in the room. “It’s a cost-effective way of detecting disease and determining the most efficacious treatment. Insurers will love it. And we’re getting close.” We’d already run the initial assays, and I had some ideas for improving it. If only Tessa would stop riding me about the schedule.
“Impressive,” my father said.
“You were always a smart boy,” my grandmother said.
“If you believe in your product,” my grandfather said, “you must balance the risk of making it the best it can be against getting it to market quickly. What’s the problem?”
My shoulders tensed. “That’s my problem. Balancing quality with the schedule. Plus, the CEO brought in an outsider to fill his role.”
A tightening around my mother’s eyes was the only acknowledgment of Simon, who’d been my best friend since I was old enough to eat in the dining room instead of the kitchen with my nanny. He’d sat at this table almost as many times as I had.
“Tell us about this outsider,” my father said.
“She founded Red Rover, but she’s not there anymore. She’s not a scientist, though she knows enough to be dangerous. She’s been there a month, and she’s already making changes. Last week, I walked in on her asking my lead scientist to show her how to use the microplate reader. But,” I added grudgingly, “she’s smart about business. She got us a twenty-percent discount on microplates. Yujun, my lab manager, already worships the ground she walks on.”
So did Sadie.
I’d caught the two of them coming back from lunch together. Sadie was decent enough to look embarrassed about it while Tessa tossed her gorgeous mane of hair and looked down her freckled nose at me. But I couldn’t mention Sadie here. I hadn’t even been able to say Simon’s name, not when my emotions bubbled so close to the surface. My family would’ve recoiled in horror if I’d let so much as my lip tremble. Only Grandma Vee had welcomed emotions, and she’d been gone for more than fifteen years.
But if I could get the test right, we could save someone else’s grandma or mother or sister so she could have another year at the Thanksgiving table. “I think,” I said cautiously, “we could start clinical trials by the end of next year.”
“That’s wonderful, son,” my mother said. “We were concerned when you opted out of finance to pursue science, but you’ve done the family proud.”
“Hold on,” I said. “It’s too early to call it a success. We’re not even out of development yet.”
“It sounds like your new COO can get you across the finish line,” my father said. “With her business acumen, she’s an asset to the organization.”
Maybe to the organization, but she was a distraction to me. Every time she said something brilliant, every time she hit me with that intelligent, no-bullshit, green-eyed stare, I forgot we were adversaries. I shook the image of her face from my brain. “It’s her job to push me to meet the deadline the board has given me. But I’m afraid she’ll do it by any means necessary.”
My grandfather nodded, gazing at his phone. “Any means necessary may be right.” Although my grandmother didn’t allow them at the table, he was addicted to Google. “Tessa Wright is your new COO?” He waited for my nod. “Looks like she threw her employees under the bus when she sold Red Rover.”
“What?” My muscles locked.
He scrolled on his phone. “Didn’t you look up your new COO?”
“I’ve been a little busy.”
“I thought I remembered something off about that sale,” he said. “You’d have been a teenager, too young to pay attention to such things. Plus, you were more interested in your microscopes and textbooks than in finance or business. But her employees complained that she built the company on their backs, then abandoned them. They lost their health insurance and paid time off when Red Rover converted them from employees to independent contractors.”
“Gig workers had benefits?” my father asked.
“Exactly.” My grandfather’s white eyebrows rose. “Not very savvy, but when she took the benefits away, there was an uproar. By then, Ms. Wright was long gone.”
Saving twenty percent on some supplies was one thing. Taking away people’s health insurance was another. Was that what she planned to do at Discovery Diagnostics?
Did Dr. Perrell know what Tessa had done? She couldn’t. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have hired her. Integrity was one of our core values. Though if my grandfather could easily find Tessa’s history, how could Dr. Perrell have missed it?
“It sounds like a public relations nightmare. Can your business withstand a scandal like that?” my grandmother asked.
Could it? Simon would’ve never let anything like that happen. “I don’t know.”
“You need to stand up for yourself, son,” my father said. “Rein her in, or she could take the whole enterprise down with her.”
“You’re right,” I said. Simon was gone, and wishing wouldn’t bring him back. I had to fight my own battle. “You’re one hundred percent right.”