He Fired the Wrong Heiress

Because of a single contaminated test tube, the new supervising professor of my lab, Dr. Marcus Cole, announced he was kicking me off the NSF grant project.

He did it during our weekly group meeting, in front of everyone.

Evelyn, he boomed, his voice echoing slightly off the sterile whiteboards. "Don't think for a second that because you've published a few papers, you're untouchable."

I stood silently beside my chair as my lab mates stared at their notebooks, the floor, anywhere but at me.

"The lab protocols are posted on every door! All glassware must be sterilized by the end of the day. You knew the rule, you ignored it, and that makes your negligence doubly worse."

He paced in front of the projector screen, a shark in a lab coat. "As for the NSF grant… you can forget about it. You won't touch another piece of data associated with it."

I didn’t say a word. I just picked up my laptop and turned to leave.

Fire me from my own project?

Fine. This whole lab was about to come to a grinding halt.

1

Dr. Cole’s face purpled with rage at my silent departure. "Evelyn Reed, where do you think you're going? Get back here!" he yelled at my back. "You will write a formal apology, and you will read it aloud to this entire group as a testament to your profound lack of professionalism!"

I paused at the door and looked back at his face, twisted with a furious need for control. "No problem," I said, my voice unnervingly calm.

A heavy silence fell over the room. I could feel the shocked stares of my friends and colleagues.

Dr. Cole let out a short, triumphant huff and stormed out of the conference room. A moment later, a notification pinged on everyone’s phone. A message in the lab’s general Slack channel.

From: Dr. Marcus Cole
To: @channel
Subject: Upholding Lab Standards

PhD candidate Evelyn Reed has demonstrated a lax attitude and a severe violation of laboratory protocols. She will conduct a public self-criticism today at 3:00 PM in Conference Room A301 to rectify this behavior and reinforce the importance of our collective standards.

The air in the room felt thick enough to suffocate on.

My friend Maya, sitting next to me, nudged my phone under the table. A private message popped up.

Maya: Evie, don't be stubborn. Just apologize. It's an NSF grant! This could affect your graduation!

I shook my head slightly. It won't matter, I typed back.

He was the new guy, brought in to co-supervise while the department head, Professor Miller, was on sabbatical. Cole needed to assert his dominance, to make his mark. And he needed to make room for his own people.

It was no secret he wanted to give my doctoral project to the new postdoc he’d brought with him from Stanford.

The problem for him was that I had already completed the most difficult, groundbreaking phase of the grant's research. The preliminary data was more than good; it was perfect.

I was in his way, a living testament to work he couldn't claim as his own. This test tube was just the excuse he’d been waiting for.

I sent Maya a quick "Don't worry " emoji, then switched apps. I began methodically backing up every file on my laptop: years of experimental data, raw records, analysis pipelines. I encrypted the archive, uploaded it to my private cloud server, and then permanently deleted every local copy.

Only when that was done did I open a new document and begin to write my "apology."

Halfway through, Dr. Cole made a point of strolling past my workstation. He saw the document open on my screen and the corner of his mouth twitched into a smug, self-satisfied smirk.

At 3:00 PM, Conference Room A301 was packed.

Dr. Cole stood at the front, his expression a mask of stern, official righteousness.

"I want to reiterate," he began, his voice dripping with condescension, "that a laboratory is not a dorm room. The rules are not suggestions." He glared in my direction. "The regulations are posted and emphasized for a reason, yet some people treat them as background noise."

He paused for dramatic effect. "And don't think that just because Professor Miller personally recruited you that you are entitled to special treatment. What good is producing data if you can't even master basic discipline?"

"Evelyn. Up here. Time for your apology. Let’s make this a teachable moment for everyone."

I stood and walked to the front, pulling out the single sheet of paper I had prepared.

"I, Evelyn Reed, have made a grave and unforgivable error," I began, my voice clear and steady. "I should not have, under any circumstances, neglected that single test tube. From this day forward, I vow to adhere strictly to every single rule of this lab, without exception."

I paused, making eye contact with him. "I am, after all, just a student. And any project Dr. Cole deems me unfit for, I will absolutely not touch."

"As long as you understand," he cut in, clearly pleased with my performance. He then turned to the room, puffing out his chest. "Given Ms. Reed’s history of non-compliance and her negative attitude, the core project committee has decided to officially remove her from the NSF grant, effective immediately. Her previous responsibilities and all associated data will be transferred to our new postdoctoral fellow, Dr. Ethan Hayes."

The room was utterly silent.

Beside Dr. Cole, the man with the gold-rimmed glasses and the perpetual smirk, Ethan Hayes, gave a small, self-important nod to the group. I glanced at Maya; her expression was a mixture of helplessness and shock.

Dr. Cole added one final twist of the knife. "Evelyn, after this meeting, I expect you to immediately compile all your project-related lab notebooks and raw data files and hand them over to Dr. Hayes. Do not delay."

I agreed with an unnerving cheerfulness and slid a USB drive into the conference room’s computer. A folder containing hundreds of neatly organized files popped up on the projector screen.

"It’s all right here, Dr. Cole," I said.

Good luck making sense of any of it.

My cheerful compliance seemed to catch him off guard; a flicker of suspicion crossed his face. But after a quick scan of the massive, meticulously labeled file list, he relaxed.

Dr. Hayes looked like he’d just won the lottery. As soon as the meeting was adjourned, he sauntered over to my lab bench.

"Ms. Reed," he began, his tone dripping with condescension. "If you could please clear out your personal effects from this station and your locker, I’d appreciate it. I'll also need you to walk me through the inventory of reagents and equipment in the common area. We can’t have you delaying the important work Dr. Cole and I are about to begin."

2

I knew exactly what Dr. Hayes was after. It wasn't my bench space he coveted; it was the state-of-the-art equipment sitting on it.

"Evelyn, hurry it up," Dr. Cole chimed in from across the lab, arms crossed like a general surveying his new territory. "Lab space is at a premium, and Dr. Hayes is eager to get his new research underway."

I slowly, deliberately, closed the lid on a small equipment case without looking up. "Dr. Cole, Dr. Hayes, this is a lot of stuff to pack up. It's going to take me some time."

I finally met their impatient gazes. "How about tomorrow? I promise I'll have everything cleared out by then. Wouldn't want to get in the way of progress."

Ethan pushed his glasses up his nose. My promise to be gone by the next day seemed to satisfy him. He gave another one of his prim little nods and followed Dr. Cole out of the lab.

Without the crushing weight of the NSF grant on my shoulders, I felt an unfamiliar lightness. The core data for my dissertation was already complete; all that remained was the writing and some minor revisions. Now, thanks to them, I had all the time in the world.

The next afternoon, after neatly packing the last of my personal items into a box, I did something I hadn’t done in years. I pulled out my phone and bought a ticket to the aquarium to see the dolphin show, something I'd always wanted to do but never had the time for.

Sitting in the stands, surrounded by the delighted squeals of children as the dolphins leaped and twisted in perfect sync with their trainers, I felt a pure, uncomplicated sense of peace wash over me.

The lab’s Slack channel, however, was anything but peaceful.

That evening, my phone started buzzing incessantly.

It was the new, grant-specific channel that Dr. Hayes had created. He was already laying down the law.

From: Dr. Ethan Hayes
To: @grant-team
Subject: New Daily Protocols

1. Effective immediately, all team members will submit a daily progress report detailing experimental procedures, reagents used, and preliminary results. Reports are due in my inbox by 10 PM sharp.
2. Each team member is expected to complete a minimum of three full experimental cycles per week. Compiled data is to be submitted to me for review by Sunday evening.
3. Use of all major laboratory equipment must be requested and approved by me at least 24 hours in advance. Unauthorized use is strictly forbidden.

A private message from Maya immediately followed.

Maya: [Screenshot] Evie, are you seeing this?! He’s acting like he’s king of the world! He's delegating every single task while he just wanders around the lab making useless suggestions. He hasn't offered a single piece of actual help!

A second message bubble appeared.

Maya: Today he told me to wash a sink full of HIS beakers that had been sitting there for days! Who does he think he is?!

I could practically feel her frustration radiating through the screen.

Me: Deep breaths, Maya. Just say no to anything that isn't your responsibility. You have your own work to do.

She was typing for a long time before her next message came through.

Maya: I just feel so angry for you, Evie. Dr. Cole is so blatantly targeting you, stealing your work. Are you really not going to do anything? Should we tell Professor Miller?

I stared at her words, then slowly typed my reply.

Me: Not yet. Professor Miller is at a major conference in Geneva. There’s no need to bother him with this… yet.

3

I woke up to sunlight streaming through a gap in my curtains. For the first time in years, I hadn't bolted awake at 6 AM in a panic to get to the lab.

I was pouring myself a glass of milk when my phone lit up with a text from Maya.

Maya: Morning. Cole was on a rampage first thing. Ranting about how some people show their true colors once they're kicked off a project. Lazy, no dedication, no respect for the scientific process… He basically read out your student ID number.

I took a sip of milk. Let him talk, I texted back. Ignore it.

I turned my phone off and was about to crawl back into bed when a shrill, insistent ringing shattered the morning quiet. I fumbled for the phone, my heart pounding. It was Dr. Cole.

"Evelyn! Where is the equipment from your bench?!" he screamed without a hello. "The centrifuge, the PCR machine, and the micromanipulator rig! Where are they? I’ve torn this entire lab apart and they're gone!"

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "Dr. Cole, if some equipment is missing, why is your first call to me?"

There was a choked silence on the other end, followed by an explosion of renewed fury. "Who else could it be?! You were the last one to leave last night! Did the equipment just grow legs and walk away?!"

"Dr. Cole," I said, my voice slow and deliberate as I sat up in bed. "If things are missing, shouldn't you be checking the lab's official checkout logs and procurement records? Or perhaps asking the other students if they borrowed something?"

I let a beat of silence hang in the air. "Calling a student who was, as you so publicly announced, 'kicked off the project' to hurl accusations first thing in the morning seems… a little inappropriate, don't you think?"

My calm, almost innocent tone was like gasoline on his fire.

"Don't you play games with me, Evelyn! I strongly suspect that you, angry about being removed from the grant, have intentionally sabotaged this lab! That you've stolen university property!"

"I am telling you right now, you get down to this lab and explain yourself!"

I let out a soft laugh. "That's a very serious accusation, Dr. Cole. To make a claim like that without any proof… that’s not a good look, is it?"

"My proof is that you're the number one suspect!"

"You have ten minutes to show up here. If you don't, I'm taking this to the next level. I'm calling the police! You just wait!"

He roared the last words and slammed the phone down, leaving me with a dial tone buzzing in my ear.

I put the phone down, yawned, and rolled over to go back to sleep.

Not fifteen minutes later, Maya called, her voice a panicked whisper.

"Evie! Oh my god, this is bad! He—he actually did it! He called the campus police! They're here, in the lab! You need to get here, now!"

4

I took my time. I went out, got a proper breakfast, and enjoyed a leisurely walk to the science building. My phone vibrated nonstop in my pocket. Dr. Cole, no doubt.

When I got to my floor, Maya was pacing frantically by the stairwell.

"Evie, you're finally here!" she hissed, rushing toward me. "Cole is losing his mind in there, the cops are still with him. Please… whatever you do, be careful. Don't provoke him."

I gave her a reassuring "OK" sign and walked calmly up the last flight of stairs.

The moment I stepped into the lab, the tense atmosphere was palpable. Dr. Cole was pacing like a caged animal while two uniformed campus police officers stood by, looking bored. The other students were glued to their workstations, pretending to be absorbed in their tasks, barely breathing.

The second Cole saw me, his eyes went wild. He lunged toward me. "Evelyn Reed! Look! Look at your bench! It's empty!"

He jabbed a trembling finger in its direction. "The equipment! What did you do with the equipment?!"

He spun around to face the officers, his voice shrill. "Officers, it was her! She's the one who came in last night when no one was around and stole the lab's most valuable instruments! I have the security footage! It clearly shows her leaving with several large cases! The evidence is undeniable!"

One of the officers turned to me, his expression serious. "Ma'am, is what this professor is saying true? Did you remove equipment from this lab?"

I nodded calmly. "Yes, I did."

A gasp went through the room. Dr. Cole looked as if he’d just been handed a winning lottery ticket. His voice trembled with vindictive glee. "You heard that, officers! She admitted it! It's theft! Grand larceny! Arrest her!"

First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "250067" to read the entire book.