Sarah typed rapidly on her laptop while Evelyn sorted documents into neat piles.

Both looked up as Lucas entered.

"Welcome to the war room," Evelyn said with a tired smile.

"Sorry about the mess."

"We've been trying to organize eight months of Brighton's work."

"It wasn't exactly well organized."

Lucas set his tool belt beside the door.

Only then did he fully appreciate the weight of what he had agreed to do.

"So..."

He pulled out a chair.

"Where do we start?"

Sarah pointed toward a whiteboard filled with notes and dates.

"I've been trying to build a timeline."

"The lawsuit was filed eight months ago."

"Meridian Solutions claims that Evelyn stole their intellectual property while working as a consultant for them three years ago."

"They argue that AquaVerde's filtration system is based on research and designs she accessed during that consulting period."

Evelyn immediately shook her head.

"Which is completely false."

"I did consult for Meridian."

"But I was working on an entirely different project."

"The AquaVerde system is based on research I completed years before I ever met anyone from that company."

Lucas sat down and folded his hands.

"Start from the beginning."

"How did you end up consulting for Meridian?"

Evelyn leaned back, gathering her thoughts.

"Four years ago, I was finishing my PhD in Environmental Engineering at State University."

"My dissertation focused on developing low-cost water filtration systems for underserved regions."

"I created a prototype that combined ceramic filtration with UV sterilization in a way that was both cheaper and more efficient than existing systems."

Lucas nodded.

"So the AquaVerde system began there?"

"The foundation of it."

"Yes."

"After graduation, I founded AquaVerde to commercialize the technology."

"But startups need funding."

"And they need industrial partners."

"Meridian approached me."

"They claimed they wanted to expand into sustainable water technologies and emerging markets."

"It sounded like a perfect fit."

Sarah opened a document on her laptop.

"This is the consulting agreement."

"Evelyn worked with Meridian for six months, improving one of their existing commercial filtration systems."

"It was entirely separate from her own research."

Lucas scanned the contract.

Years away from the profession hadn't dulled his instincts.

"This is a standard NDA and non-compete agreement."

"You agreed not to work for their competitors or disclose proprietary information."

"But..."

He looked up.

"There's no clause assigning ownership of your prior research."

"Exactly," Evelyn replied.

"I was careful about that."

"I even hired an attorney to review the agreement before signing."

"Everything I developed before Meridian belonged to me."

"Everything I developed during the consulting period that wasn't directly related to their projects also belonged to me."

"The contract couldn't have been clearer."

"So what changed?"

Evelyn's expression darkened.

"I realized very quickly that Meridian wasn't interested in bringing affordable clean water to developing regions."

"They wanted to dominate wealthy commercial markets."

"Their systems were expensive."

"Proprietary."

"Designed to lock customers into long-term service contracts."

"When I suggested adapting some of my low-cost methods for humanitarian projects..."

"They laughed."

"They told me there was no profit in giving away clean water to poor people."

Lucas slowly nodded.

"I can guess what happened next."

"I completed my consulting contract."

"Delivered everything I was hired to deliver."

"And left."

"Then I went back to building AquaVerde."

"Two years later, our company started attracting attention."

"We signed agreements to provide water filtration systems across Sub-Saharan Africa and Southeast Asia."

"That's when Meridian's lawyers contacted me."

Sarah pulled up another file.

"The initial cease-and-desist letter."

"It claims AquaVerde violated Meridian's intellectual property rights."

"It demands that Evelyn shut down operations and surrender all designs and patents."

Lucas carefully read through the letter.

The language was aggressive.

The allegations broad.

But the accusations themselves remained strangely vague.

"Did they ever specify exactly what intellectual property you supposedly stole?"

"Not at first."

"They intentionally kept everything vague."

"When I refused to comply..."

"They filed the lawsuit."

Evelyn slid a thick binder across the table.

"That's the complaint."

"Three hundred pages."

"Technical specifications."

"Alleged similarities."

"And accusations."

Lucas opened the binder and began reading.

The complaint was expertly written.

Detailed enough to appear convincing.

Vague enough to make disproving it extraordinarily difficult.

Meridian argued that during Evelyn's consulting period she had access to confidential research files, prototype designs, and technical specifications.

They claimed the AquaVerde system incorporated essential elements of that research.

Sarah leaned forward.

"The problem is..."

"Some of their statements are technically true."

"Evelyn did have access to those files."

"That was part of her consulting work."

"And there are similarities between the systems."

Lucas looked up.

"Surface-level similarities?"

Evelyn nodded immediately.

"Exactly."

"Both systems use ceramic filtration."

"Both use UV sterilization."

"But neither technology is proprietary."

"They've been industry standards for decades."

"It's like accusing someone of stealing your car design because both vehicles have four wheels and an engine."

"The similarities they're highlighting are basic components everyone uses."

Lucas rested his elbows on the table.

"What makes your system different?"

For the first time since he arrived, Evelyn's eyes lit up.

"Everything."

"The breakthrough isn't in the individual parts."

"It's in the way they're integrated."

"The efficiency of the architecture."

"The manufacturing process."

"My system can be produced and installed for roughly one-tenth the cost of Meridian's while achieving equal—or better—filtration performance."

"That's the innovation."

"That's the part they haven't been able to reproduce."

Lucas absorbed every word.

His legal instincts were already assembling possible arguments.

"Do you have documentation proving this work predates your consulting contract?"

"Lab notebooks?"

"Prototype sketches?"

"Research papers?"

"Every single piece of it."

Evelyn pointed toward three large archive boxes stacked against the wall.

"My entire graduate research history."

"Dated notebooks."

"Timestamped thesis drafts."

"Prototype drawings."

"Everything proving the AquaVerde concept existed long before I ever stepped inside Meridian."

Lucas nodded slowly.

"Good."

"That's the foundation of our defense."

He turned toward Sarah.

"What was Brighton's strategy?"

Sarah's expression immediately soured.

"Honestly..."

"I'm not sure he ever had one."

"He kept responding to Meridian's motions."

"But always defensively."

"He never challenged their core claims."

"He seemed more interested in negotiating a settlement than preparing for trial."

"Which is exactly what Meridian wanted," Evelyn said bitterly.

"They dragged everything out."

"Drove up legal fees."

"Tried to pressure me into surrendering."

"When I rejected their latest settlement offer..."

She paused.

"Either Brighton got scared..."

"...or somebody paid him off."

"I'm honestly not sure which."

Lucas remained silent for a long moment.

He knew corporate litigation.

He knew how expensive it could become.

Large corporations didn't always need to win in court.

Sometimes they simply needed to outspend their opponent until resistance became impossible.

It was a war of attrition.

And corporations almost always won.

"How are you paying for all this?" he finally asked.

"If you don't mind me asking."

Evelyn answered honestly.

"AquaVerde is profitable."

"But not enormously so."

"Most of our revenue goes back into expanding operations and subsidizing systems for communities that can't afford full price."

"I've been paying Brighton's firm out of my personal savings."

She looked down.

"It's becoming unsustainable."

"Another few months..."

"I would have had to sell the company just to pay legal bills."

"Which is probably exactly what Meridian expected."

Lucas leaned back in his chair.

Seven days.

That was all he had before the summary judgment hearing.

If Meridian won that motion, the case could end before it ever reached trial.

He needed to understand two competing technologies.

Review hundreds of pages of evidence.

Develop legal strategy.

Prepare counterarguments.

Possibly locate expert witnesses.

It was the sort of work that normally required months and an entire litigation team.

Instead...

He had one week.

A paralegal technically employed by another firm.

And legal instincts that had been sitting dormant for six years.

Lucas closed the binder and looked at both women.

"All right."

"Let's get to work."

Lucas closed the binder and looked toward Sarah.

"Can you give me a summary of what's in these boxes?"

Sarah glanced at her notes.

"Boxes one through three contain Evelyn's graduate research materials."

"Boxes four through seven cover the Meridian consulting period—contracts, work product, emails, and related correspondence."

"Boxes eight through twelve are Meridian's evidence submissions."

"Their technical specifications."

"Their claimed similarities."

"Their expert witness reports."

"Boxes thirteen through fifteen contain deposition transcripts."

"Evelyn's."

"Former Meridian employees'."

"And technical experts from both sides."

Lucas looked around the room.

Fifteen boxes.

Eight months of litigation.

Brighton had been thorough in collecting evidence.

Just not in figuring out what to do with it.

Sarah's tone suggested she had reached that conclusion long ago.

Probably more than once.

Probably to Brighton himself.

And probably without much success.

Lucas stood and walked toward the nearest stack of boxes.

He began pulling folders at random.

Years of litigation had taught him how to find patterns quickly.

Every lawsuit told a story.

The challenge was discovering whether that story remained believable once someone started asking the right questions.

Without looking up, he asked,

"What exactly is Tuesday's hearing about?"

Sarah answered immediately.