rd catching in his throat. He looked a
fect, Mr. Sinclair. Her solutions to the theoretical physics section weren't jus
is desk, a cold sweat soaking through his expensive tailored shirt. The r
r. Miller. Your arrogance and lack of due diligence are
his legs feeling like lead. He walked up to Scarlett and bow
is voice trembling. "I am profoundly sorry. My behav
fied, waiting for her to scream a
n't gloat. She simply looked at her phone to chec
ted," she s
; she merely acknowledged his submission.
irl's intellect was terrifying, but her psych
ent, Dean Reynolds and I would love to invite you to my office. We need to disc
r phone into her po
clair, Mr. Miller will handle the rest of the pape
er. Immediately,
nodded. He watched his granddaughter walk out, fla
heodore pulled out his phone. "Alfred," he barked into the
to make small talk, probing Scarlett's academic interests. Sca
hadn't just admitted a prodigy. They had jus
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