The laboratory smelled of antiseptic and burnt sugar. It was a distinct scent. Chemicals reacting under heat. Moro worked under the hood. The glass shield was down. The lights were bright. Dante stood in the doorway. He did not enter immediately. He watched Moro's hands. They were steady. Precise. They moved with the confidence of a surgeon. Moro did not look up. He knew Dante was there. The sensors had triggered.
"Close the door," Moro said.
Dante stepped inside. He pushed the door shut. The lock engaged. The hum of the ventilation system increased. Moro turned off the burner. He set the pipette down. He turned to face Dante. On the steel table, a single vial sat in a rack. It was small. Glass. The liquid inside was clear. Colorless. Dante walked to the table. He stopped on the other side. He looked at the vial.
"What is it," Dante asked.
