No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 615

York smiled and nodded. “That’s right. I’m here today to show you the progress we’ve made.” As he finished, he glanced at Eleanor across the table. Eleanor pressed her lips together and gave a subtle nod in return.

Julian took over, giving a brief overview of the experiment. Then, the presentation shifted to a series of images. Faye stared at a photo from two years ago. There was a young woman in the frame, standing at the lab bench, head down, jotting something in a notebook.

Wait a minute. Faye’s eyes narrowed. That girl—wasn’t there something about her that looked just like Eleanor?

Was she imagining things?

Eleanor looked at the photo, a wave of emotion rising in her chest. She remembered that experiment vividly: the late-night virtual discussions with York, the endless debates. After Ian left the country with their daughter, she bought a plane ticket and flew straight to the lab.

Faye’s eyes widened as the projection shifted to a video—there, on the screen, a girl who looked unmistakably like Eleanor was working intently, her hands moving deftly over a tangle of sophisticated equipment.

Ian sat with his back to the group, eyes narrowed as he watched the girl on the screen. She wore a plain lab coat, her long hair tied back in a loose ponytail, focused on calibrating a brain-computer interface. Her profile was lit starkly by the cold white of the lab lights, brows knit in concentration, her lips pressed in a thoughtful line. She looked almost sculpted, a study in focus and poise.

Faye stared at the screen as if struck by a bolt of lightning. It couldn’t be. How could it be Eleanor?

Suddenly, the video played a new clip. Eleanor stood at the lab bench, sometimes typing rapidly on the keyboard, sometimes adjusting the equipment, her eyes sharp and steady, intelligence radiating from her every movement.

Ian’s fingers unconsciously traced the edge of his chair. He remembered now—during that period, Eleanor had rarely reached out to him. Even when she video-called their daughter, she always seemed pressed for time. Now he understood: she had achieved what nearly everyone thought was impossible, and she’d done it alone.

Impossible. It was absurd.

Now, the video showed Eleanor and several researchers gathered around a patient bed. She was connecting a brain-computer interface to a monkey that was completely paralyzed. After several careful adjustments, her steady voice rang out, “Begin testing.”

Everyone in the conference room held their breath. The monkey, lifeless just moments before, suddenly jerked as if shocked by a surge of electricity. Then it moved a forelimb, then the hind legs twitched. Tentatively, the monkey sat up, then took a cautious step forward. Another step. Then, with surprising agility, it hopped twice on the bed—just as the footage jolted and cut out.

York sighed. “That’s where the video ends, unfortunately. The monkey attacked one of our researchers, and we had to stop the experiment immediately.”