In the audience, Phoebe clapped with a wide grin.
Julian watched her quietly, a soft light in his eyes.
Harrison leaned back, tracing the rim of his glass, his expression a mix of tenderness and restraint.
And Lawrence, sitting front and center, felt his face darken by the second.
Wren's presentation was short, clocking in at just ten minutes.
But her delivery was flawless.
She didn't bog them down with dense jargon. Instead, she opened with the midnight alert logs of a post-op patient, explaining how a device had to evolve past "surgical success" and focus on "sustainable living."
She broke down at-home feedback loops, the massive data gaps that occur once a patient leaves the hospital, and exactly why Stellaris was doubling down on long-term adaptation systems.
The final slide featured a quote Vivian Vance had written years ago.
[The ultimate goal of medical hardware isn't to replace a heart, but to buy the patient time to reclaim their life.]
Wren paused.
"My mother, Vivian Vance, wrote those words many years ago."
A murmur of genuine emotion rippled through the crowd.
"I stepped away from this industry for a long time."
She didn't shy away from the truth.
Nor did she throw a pity party.
"I'm not back to prove that I haven't fallen behind. I'm here to finish the work that always deserved to be completed."
She looked up, her gaze steady and radiant.
"Thank you all."
The applause erupted.
It was deafening, far louder than for the previous speakers.
Standing on that stage, Wren felt a sudden lump in her throat.
It wasn't grief.
It was the overwhelming realization that she had finally found her way back to the world.
And this time, she was standing exactly where she belonged.
As she stepped off the stage, Phoebe was the first to intercept her.
"You killed it," Phoebe beamed. "Don't even think about sneaking off. I'm introducing you to my circle."
Wren nodded with a smile. "Deal."

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