Ashes in My Right Hand

Chapter 6

3,611 words

Jasmine POV

Late that night, my phone rang.

Oliver was in the shower. I answered. A voice, mechanically altered, came through.

"Ms. Jasmine? I'm calling regarding your application to Project 'Sentinel.'"

I glanced toward the bathroom and lowered my own voice. "Speaking."

"We've reviewed your profile. Your expertise aligns with our needs. Specifically, your research on viral occlusion pathways is precisely what's required in the current West African outbreak."

He paused, his tone turning serious. "However, I am obligated to inform you this is a classified, high-risk deployment. Acceptance requires the termination of your current legal identity. For a decade or more, you will have no contact with the outside world. The environment is hostile, the virus volatile, and the mortality rate is significant."

"I understand," I answered calmly. "I've studied the relevant materials. I have new insights into the transmission routes and blockage mechanisms of the R-type virus. If given the opportunity, I'm confident I can crack it."

I recited a string of technical terms fluidly, a kind of confidence I hadn't felt in years.

Silence lingered on the other end for a few seconds. Clearly, they hadn't expected my grasp of the project to be so thorough.

"Excellent. We would be glad to have you." The recruiter's voice held a note of respect. "However, due to the project's sensitive nature, we require one more document beyond your personal application. We need a signed high-risk mission informed consent and liability waiver from your legal spouse. It's a procedural requirement to prevent any future legal claims from family members."

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Spousal signature.

It was the biggest hurdle.

"Understood. I'll take care of it."

"Time is critical. Please proceed quickly. A special transport will pass through your city soon. We'll contact you then."

"Got it."

I hung up. The sound of water in the bathroom had just stopped.

Oliver came out drying his hair. Seeing me standing there, he asked offhandedly, "Who was that?"

"Insurance telemarketer," I lied without missing a beat.

Oliver scoffed. "Who'd sell you insurance now? Everyone knows your primary earning capacity is gone. No job. No ability to repay."

He walked to the fridge for water, noticing I was still standing there. His gaze darkened.

"Still haven't given up? Still scrambling around like a headless fly looking for work?"

He'd clearly overheard a fragment or two.

"With your hand like that, what hospital insurance would cover you?" He took a sip of water, his tone cold. "Jasmine, you need to learn to accept reality. Stay home obediently and take care of my and Grace's daily needs. I won't treat you badly."

I looked at him, my gaze like I was looking at a complete stranger.

This was the man who once vowed before a priest to support my dreams. Now his only dream was to keep me here, in this small world, as his permanent housekeeper.

"Yeah," I smiled faintly. "There really is no place for me here anymore."

Oliver paused and looked back at me, as if searching my words for a hidden meaning.

But he quickly interpreted it as me complaining that no one would hire me.

"Good that you finally understand." He set his glass down with a sharp click. "Then stop making trouble. Settle in."

He turned and walked upstairs, leaving me with nothing but the cold line of his back.

His "no place" meant the world outside had no use for a damaged woman.

My "no place" meant there was no room left for me inside this house, inside this marriage.

I needed that signature.

I had to get it.