There wasn't long to wait before everyone had gathered back in the conference room. Foreman could see the triumph written on Amber's face, in her animation and smugness, but he wasn't ready to acknowledge it. Christ, what was he doing? He didn't want her to be wrong, but he wasn't ready to give in, either. She had more chances to prove a point. Just last week she'd caught the diagnosis. Foreman might have a job, but his footing wasn't any more secure. Less, in fact. House didn't care if the candidates were right. All he wanted was for them to show what they were willing to do.

Kutner came in practically on Amber and Taub's heels, and Brennan slunk in behind him. Foreman snatched the results from Kutner's hands the minute he stepped into the conference room waving them around triumphantly. They'd already disproven Thirteen's and Cole's diagnoses--not hard; amyloidosis and meningitis had been long shots to start with. Foreman nearly breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the protein and glucose levels. Together with Casey's MRI, they pointed straight to MS, which was all he needed to know. "Thanks," he told Kutner tightly, although the clench in his gut had relaxed. Now it didn't matter what Amber had found, because he had all the proof he needed. "Protein 65, glucose 70. It's MS. Start her on interferon."