Containment

Soon after the news, both of them got the same notification on their phone.

It was a direct order.

"All independent testing is to cease immediately. Hand over all samples to government officials. No further research authorized."

“What the actual fuck?” Emily stared at her screen. “Did you see this?”

Across the room, Victor flipped a fried egg that looked like it had survived a war. He didn’t even look up. “Yes. I saw it.”

She turned toward him, frowning. “So what now? Do we stop?”

Victor plated the last of the eggs, set them on the table like a sad little funeral, and sat. 

“We can’t. This research… it’s bigger than us.”

Emily pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “I guess you’re right.”

She stared at the plate. The eggs were uneven, burnt on one side, runny on the other. One of them had what looked like a shell shard sticking out like a gravestone. Her fork hovered, unsure.

She blinked prodding at the food with her fork like it might bite back. 

“Uh... where’d you learn to make eggs?”

“I followed a video tutorial,” Victor replied. “A Japanese channel. Cooking Haru. The chef made it look… deceptively simple and fun.”

He pulled out his phone and showed her the video. Fluffy golden eggs. Garnished. Perfect.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, babe, I’m sorry... but this looks nothing like that.”

Both of them laughed but Emily suddenly stopped after she realized it.

Babe. Why had she said that? It was one night. Incredible, yes—but still. Just sex. She didn’t do this kind of thing. Get attached. And yet here she was, smiling like a girl from those Rom-Com’s she watches.

When she’d first met Victor, she’d found him insufferable—arrogant, aloof, borderline robotic. While those qualities became endearing over time, she still only tolerated him. She wasn’t sure when she started liking him, maybe it was the long nights of research or the long days of research.

Now she was sitting across from him, thinking things she shouldn’t.

Victor sighed and sat down, attempting a bite. He chewed once. Stopped. Put the fork down with quiet dignity. Despite herself, she smiled.

Victor was… beautiful. In that universal kind of way. Like the type of guy even straight guys could have a man crush on. Chiseled features that looked like they were designed by someone with an obsession for Greek gods. A strong jawline that put all Gigachads to shame all over the world and blue eyes you could swim. Oh, those ocean eyes, as bright as …well the ocean. His hair was short and rugged that screamed "I didn’t try too hard" while still looking perfect.

“Hey,” Victor said, snapping her out of it. “Lost you for a second. I was asking if you wanted to go out for breakfast. Since I apparently ruined everything I bought.”

Emily chuckled, brushing hair from her face. “Yeah, give me ten. I need a quick shower. I smell really ripe.”

Victor smiled. “I think you smell just fine.”

Later, after pancakes and coffee, Victor suggested a detour. They drove to West 83rd.

The moment they rolled the windows down, the air hit them—chemical, sharp, laced with ozone and industrial disinfectant.

Victor leaned forward, gripping the top of the window. “Do you see that?”

Black trucks flanked the building. No markings. No plates. No insignias. Just men and women in matte-black tactical suits and dark glasses.

Emily squinted from the passenger seat. “They’re not CDC.”

Victor frowned. “Who...?”

“They don’t even move like military,” she added. “ They definitely look like cliché secret government organization type.”

“Why do you say that?” Victor asked, unbuckling his seat belt.

“You know like in the movies. Haven’t you seen one?”

“Not really,” Victor answered stepping out of the car.

“We gotta fix that, tonight.” Emily opened her phone and took some pictures.

They stood outside leaning on the car for a moment, watching.

A moment later, two police cruisers screamed to a halt. Officers jumped out, unspooling yellow tape and sealing off the building.

“They’re locking it down,” Emily muttered.

Victor’s voice was tight. “What about the people inside? Are they just going to leave them there?”

“No idea. But if they are, we’re not getting in any time soon.”

Victor’s gaze drifted. He caught a flicker of movement.

A girl with blonde hair, crouching behind a nearby building. Watching the black-suited agents, eyes locked on the scene.

“Emily,” he said quietly. “What do you think that girl is doing?” he asked.

“I don’t know, kids are weird like that. probably playing hide and seek with her friends or something.”

“With whom?” Victor shook his head slightly. “It’s ten in the morning. Aren’t most children in school by now?”

Emily paused. He had a point. The girl didn’t look like a young child either—maybe twelve or thirteen. And there was no one else around. No other children or adults. The girl saw them looking at her and ran.

Without thinking they ran after her.

Victor took the lead, dashing between two buildings with alarming speed. His body moved with athletic ease—he vaulted off a brick wall, kicked higher, and used the momentum to clear a high steel fence with a fluid motion that should’ve been impossible.

Emily arrived moments later, panting. “Okay... yeah, I’ll go the long way.”

Victor caught up to the girl near a narrow alleyway, grabbing her gently but firmly by the arm and pulling her back. She struggled, kicking.

“Stop,” he said. “I just want to talk.”

She struggled and kicked at him. “Lemme go!”

Emily rounded the corner a minute later, catching her breath. “Victor...hey! Let go, you’re hurting her.”

He released her immediately, hands up. “Sorry. I Didn’t mean to scare you.”

The girl backed up, rubbing her arm and glaring. “Y’all crazy or somethin’? Snatchin’ me like that?”

Her accent was thick, Southern. The kind of drawl that clung to words like honey to a spoon.

“What were you doing back there?” Emily asked, stepping in.

The girl folded her arms. “Ain’t none o’ your business.”