caused her, refused to abandon Kang. On the contrary, she cared for him even more completely after that incident, realizing there was truly no one else to do so now. As his psychosis deepened, the rare, brief periods of lucidity she witnessed in the preceding months vanished completely. Though Kang did hurt her again during other fits of rage, she was more prepared each time, and none came remotely close to the ferocity exhibited in that first attack. Despite all efforts, Kang died a mere nineteen months after the onset of his first symptoms.
The exact cause of Kang’s death was never definitively determined, though his death certificate listed ‘overwhelming mental and physical exhaustion’ as the cause of death. Her parents never recovered from the loss. To Lin, they acted as if they had lost both of their children that day. Lin was never able to shine a light bright enough to reach them in the dark depths of their depression and desolation. Her anger and disillusion grew with the understanding that she lost her entire family the day Kang drew his final breath. It was with this realization that a fierce, unstoppable determination ignited within her, and the despondency threatening to overtake her was vanquished. While she did not yet understand what happened to her brother, she vowed to avenge her losses and to exact revenge on Kang’s invisible assassin.
Her academic pursuits in the years after Kang’s death marked the first steps toward making good on her promise. After receiving a scholarship to Stanford University for undergraduate school, she completed the program in only three years with a perfect 4.0 grade point average. She then attended Harvard University where she completed her postdoctoral training in neurobiology and neuroscience. It was during this time that her personal research into the details of Kang’s death over twenty years prior led her into the realm of his suspected killer. Despite an initial list of over a dozen potentially viable theories as to why her brother’s life mysteriously and prematurely ended, she ultimately deduced that limbic encephalitis was the most plausible perpetrator. Her doctoral thesis on the development of a novel primate model for the study of treatment modalities in limbic encephalitis and other autoimmune encephalopathies was lauded as one the most important recent breakthroughs in neuroscience. It was considered nothing short of groundbreaking.
When the opportunity to join an established and prestigious neuroscience branch of a renowned biomedical research lab in Brazil arose, there was no question where her future lay. Less than a week later, she sat gazing out the window of a Boeing 747 as the coastline of the United States gave way to the seemingly tranquil waters of the Atlantic Ocean, and a new beginning looming on the distant horizon.
After five long, grueling years during which her research advanced with achingly slow progress, Dr. Lin San was tired. Now with the successes of her research being realized at breakneck speed, her overwhelming exhaustion left her pining for the mental fortitude to persevere. Slowly, all the setbacks and hurdles besieging her early research endeavors faded quietly into the past as her team witnessed real, palpable progress.
With apparent success so close she could nearly touch it, any respite, no matter how brief, was unfathomable. She was surprised to find herself feeling increasingly unsettled in spite of the exciting advances in her work. Lin soon realized the amount of time and energy she was pouring into her research was both unhealthy and unsustainable. Increasingly, she found herself suffering from bouts of insomnia, unable to leave the questions posed by her work in the lab as she lay in bed reworking the day’s problems in her head. Whether from insufficient sleep or sheer mental exhaustion, she experienced a decline in her level of focus during her waking hours. Her
Stefany Valentine Ramirez