Badass in Disguise Chapter 99

I didn't stop to hear the rest of their speculation. The president's heart condition demanded more immediate attention than their petty rumors.

I mixed several compounds together in a glass of warm water, creating a specialized cardiac stabilizing cocktail for President Thornton. The solution turned a pale amber as I stirred it with practiced precision, mentally calculating the exact proportions each ingredient needed. He sat with his eyes closed on the leather couch in his office, his breathing shallow and his complexion pale, showing signs of the cardiac episode that had struck him earlier.

"The first wave of relief should hit in about thirty seconds," I explained, handing him the glass. "The full effect takes about three minutes."

Thornton accepted the mixture gratefully and took a cautious sip. His expression shifted from skepticism to surprise as the concoction began working almost immediately.

"This is remarkable, Miss Morgan," he said, his breathing already becoming more regular. "Your remedy works faster than the prescription Walter Morrison gave me. And it doesn't have that metallic aftertaste."

I nodded, watching him clinically. "Your heart condition is hereditary," I stated matter-of-factly. "While it can't be completely cured, the right combination of medications can minimize both intensity and frequency of episodes. The key is targeting the specific cardiac pathways affected in your case."

Thornton straightened in his seat, eyebrows rising as he took another sip. "How did you know it's hereditary? Even Walter Morrison—a titan in cardiac research—couldn't pinpoint the exact cause. I've been to specialists across the country."

"Certain physiological markers and symptom patterns are obvious if you know what to look for," I replied, deliberately vague. "The slight bluish tint to your fingernails during an episode, combined with the specific rhythm disruption suggests a genetic component."

Thornton stared at me with newfound respect and a hint of wariness. "Miss Morgan, your breadth of knowledge continues to astonish me." He shook his head. "I originally wanted to encourage you to apply to Harvard Medical or even our Physics Department, but now you tell me neither is actually your strong suit?"

"That's correct," I confirmed, maintaining my neutral expression.

"I'm eager to see what you accomplish in Computer Science, then." Thornton smiled, the color returning to his face and his breathing now completely normal.

The corner of my mouth twitched upward. "People with those skills don't typically use them for anything good."

Thornton laughed as though I'd made a clever joke, but his eyes revealed uncertainty about whether I was actually joking. "Well, I'm grateful for your help today. This is the first time in years I've felt relief so quickly."

"This combination will stabilize your heart rate and blood pressure for about six hours," I explained. "But this is only temporary symptom relief, not a treatment plan. You should still follow Dr. Morrison's long-term protocol. My formula is just an auxiliary measure for emergencies."

---

As I walked across the quad after leaving Thornton's office, I immediately noticed the sidelong glances and whispers following me like a shadow. The sunny afternoon did nothing to warm the chill of scrutiny that trailed behind me.

"That's her," a blonde girl whispered, not quietly enough. "Someone saw her getting out of a black Maybach yesterday. The license plate was custom—definitely belongs to someone important."

"I heard she's being kept by some rich guy," another student added, deliberately raising her voice so I could hear. "Can't believe she'd stoop so low... especially after that whole physics genius revelation."

"Why would she do that to herself?" a third voice chimed in. "The guy's probably some greasy old pervert. Is money really that tempting? I mean, she seems smart enough to get by without selling herself."

I kept walking, face expressionless.

"Don't you all have better shit to do?" a voice cut through the murmurs.

Chase Astor stood in the center of the walkway, undisguised anger flashing in his eyes. The gossiping students immediately fell silent, none daring to meet his gaze. His presence commanded attention, and even those who hadn't been participating in the gossip paused to watch.

"If I hear any more of this garbage spreading around, you'll regret it." His threat hung in the air as the students quickly dispersed, pretending they hadn't been part of the conversation.

A freshman girl tried to protest. "We were just—"

"Just what?" Chase interrupted, his voice dangerously low. "Spreading lies about someone you don't know? Finding joy in tearing down someone smarter than you'll ever be? Get lost before I remember your face."

---

"Been hearing that crap about you all over campus," Chase said, dropping into the empty seat beside me in the computer lab twenty minutes later. He looked annoyed, tie loosened and hair slightly disheveled. "Took me forty-five minutes to get here because I had to shut down about a dozen different versions of the same stupid rumor. People are pathetic."

I glanced up from my code, then returned my attention to the screen. "Thanks for the white knight routine, but I can handle myself."

Chase laughed. "Oh, I know you can. You're the one who solved that impossible physics problem on the campus forum. That fake physics genius was such a moron—trying to fake something that actually requires brains. Edward and his crew believed her for months. They're even bigger morons, honestly."

The corner of my mouth twitched upward. "What do you want, Chase?"

"Didn't see you around for a few days," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Where'd you disappear to?"

"Cloud City. Had to pick up my brother Max."

Chase's eyes lit up with genuine interest. "Your brother? Which school is he at? I could help look out for him. We should grab dinner sometime." The questions came rapid-fire. "How old is he? Is he good at racing? How many guys can he take in a fight?"

I raised an eyebrow. "My brother is a good student."

"You look like a good student too," Chase grinned.

"I am a good student," I replied evenly, deliberately ignoring his dinner invitation and returning my attention to the monitor.

---

When I returned to my dorm room later that afternoon, I found my luggage ransacked, clothes strewn across the floor. The combination lock on my suitcase had been forcibly broken, metal pieces scattered on the carpet. A bottle of imported red wine I'd been saving lay shattered on the carpet, the dark liquid soaking into the fibers. My medical kit, which I kept carefully hidden in a false bottom of my suitcase, was conspicuously missing.

The student affairs director and Megan Hayes stood inside with two other roommates, waiting for me. The director, a balding man in his fifties, held a clipboard and wore an expression of bureaucratic satisfaction.

"Miss Morgan," the director said grimly, "we received a report about unauthorized medications being stored in your dormitory."

My gaze swept across every face in the room before settling on Megan, who wore a smug smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Where's my medical kit?" I asked, my voice perfectly controlled despite the anger simmering beneath.

"Confiscated," the director replied, adjusting his glasses. "Given the potential safety concerns, we need to examine its contents."

"Those are standard medications."

Megan scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Standard? Then why does your kit contain so many syringes and powders? Who knows what you're using them for." Her implication hung in the air—drugs, perhaps, or something worse.

My eyes turned cold, and I could see Megan unconsciously take a small step back. "I suggest you clean this mess and compensate me for the damages within the next two minutes."

The director shook his head. "Miss Morgan, your medical supplies will remain in our custody temporarily. Once our investigation is complete—"

"Then you'd better take good care of my medications," I interrupted, my tone carrying an unmistakable threat. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. "They're expensive. And irreplaceable."

The director adjusted his tie uncomfortably, clearly sensing the power behind my words. "We'll handle everything properly, Miss Morgan."

I nodded, watching expressionlessly as they filed out of my room. Megan was the last to leave, deliberately bumping my shoulder as she passed.

"This is just the beginning," she whispered. "Don't think you're untouchable here."

I watched her leave, mentally calculating various ways to respond.