<b>Chapter </b>476
<b>Mirabe </b>eyed <b>Vincent </b>with a <b>mix </b><b>of </b>amusement and Impatience as he hemmed and hawed before her<b>, </b><b>a </b>far cry from the unppable<b>, </b><b>straight</b>–shooting <b>guy </b>she was used <b>to</b>. <b>“</b><b>Spit </b>it out, Vince<b>,</b><b>” </b>she <b>urged</b>, cutting through the awkward <b>silence</b>.
Vincent leaned back <b>against </b>the corridor’s railing, drawing out another minute <b>of </b>silence before he got to the point. “My grandpa<b>… </b>he wants to <b>take </b>you on as an apprentice.”
A twitch tugged at theer of Mirabe’s mouth. That stubborn old Donald hadn’t given up on the idea<b>? </b>
Clearing his throat, Vincent, <b>now </b>sounding almost sheepish, which was rare for him, added, “You don’t have to feel pressured. Just… give it some thought, okay<b>?</b><b>” </b>
Mirabe was silent for a moment before replying, “I got it. I’ll have a chat with your grandpa and set things straight.”
“Alright, I’ll see youter tonight,” Vincent said, and with onest lingering nce at her, he was gone.
Mirabe headed back to ss, barely settling into her seat when her phone buzzed from within her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw it was a message from Adler on Messenger.
[Hey boss<b>, </b>did you get my messagest night? If not, I can resend it.]
Adler had been waiting for a response <b>since </b>the morning, plus through the lunch break at Parkside High School, and it was only now, with a bit of chagrin, that he reached out again.
He then copied and pasted his previous message, [Boss, any insights? How can we make this data seem a bit more ‘up to snuff<b>?</b><b>]</b><b>, </b>and hit send again.
Quick as <b>a </b>sh, Mirabe texted back. [No insights.<b>] </b>
Adler. [Seriously, I could use your help.]
Mirabe leaned on her desk, her eyes half–closed as she pondered, then straightened up and typed. [Have you guys cracked the viral vector yet?]
Adler’s gaze shifted to the sealedb that had been his world for nearly fifteen hours straight, a heavy look in his eyes. He quickly typed back. [Not yet…] Though they were close, he didn’t have the heart to say so.
Mirabe had a hunch. After a brief pause, she rifled through her desk drawer, pulling out a piece of paper with a simplistic list of steps scribbled on it–her work from the previous night.
She snapped a photo with her phone and sent it to Adler<b>. </b>[You can use this
When Adler opened the image Mirabe had sent, he zoomed in, and his <b>a </b>reference. No guarantees, though.]
even take the time to reply before darting off to the break room.
face transformed from shock to tion so swiftly. He didn’t
There, with the printer humming to life, he printed the photo and then settled into a chair with pen and paper from the drawer, diving into calctions.
Half an hourter, Adler dropped his pen, his unkempt appearance mirroring the stunned expression that took a while to fade as he emerged from the depths of the data.
Three years of grappling with the RO strain had yielded nothing for their research institute. The synthesis of the viral vector was notoriouslyplex.
When some in the institute proposed radical methods for the experiment, Adler, ever the conscientious scientist, disapproved and sought Mirabe’s help instead.
Taking a deep breath, Adler couldn’t help but marvel at her brilliance. Despite her youth, Mirabe’s prodigious talent was leagues beyond his own–her insights hadpletely rified what had baffled him for two days. This wasn’t just exceptional<b>; </b>it was downright otherworldly.
Adler wiped his face, reminding himself thatparing oneself to others could be a frightful thing.
Shaking off his reverie, he grabbed the papers from the desk and made <b>a </b>beeline for theb, <b>ignoring </b>the curious nces from his colleagues as he punched in the code and made his way inside theb with a newfound determination.