Yvette, a half-smile playing on her lips and a mischievous glint in her eyes, shoved her hands into her pockets. Tilting her head slightly, she drawled, “No need. I already know the result. There won’t be a second one.”
Jay’s mouth twitched. He couldn't argue; Yvette’s confidence was genuinely awe-inspiring. As she started to leave, the crowd instinctively parted, creating a clear path. They swore it was involuntary, a spontaneous unison of backward steps, leaving Yvette to exit unhindered.
Spencer stared at her retreating back, then turned to James. “Mr. Owens, isn’t Ms. Zeller waiting for the result?”
James shook his head. “No need. There won’t be any surprises.” The crowd was speechless, wondering at the source of his confidence.
Half an hour later, stunned silence filled the lab. Faces frozen in disbelief, they stared blankly at the screen displaying the results—all twenty questions answered correctly. Even more shocking: Yvette had used two different methods to solve the final problem, the one Spencer had submitted. It wasn't that she was slow; she’d simply taken her time, employing two distinct approaches.
The students outside finally understood why she'd left. It wasn't arrogance; she knew she'd aced it. They marveled at James’s discovery and wondered how they could ever keep up. They now viewed Yvette as a master of all trades, acutely embarrassed by their initial underestimation and the intentionally difficult questions they'd devised.
Ryan, standing amidst the group, stared at the screen, then silently left. Only Marcus noticed, barely registering it.
James, seeing their dispirited faces, said gravely, “I gave you all an opportunity to learn, but you wasted it. Your pride is the issue. You refused to believe Yvette was superior. Yes, you were top students at home, but this lab is just the beginning, not the end. There’s always someone better. Reflect on this.” He walked into his office, his figure appearing frail and lonely—a man who had single-handedly shouldered the National Physics Lab’s responsibilities for years, growing old.
Regret was etched on their faces. They understood James’s well-meaning intentions, many reflecting on whether they’d lost sight of their goals and sense of self. This event served as a stark wake-up call.
Jay and Marcus watched the disheartened group. Marcus’s eyes were complex. “Don’t think you’re special,” he said. “Far more talented people remain humble.” Everyone knew who he meant.
Marcus pulled Jay away, but Jay stopped, turning back. “Fifteen thousand dollars,” he announced, spreading his hands. “Don't forget. Make sure Mr. Owens gets it.”
Embarrassment flushed their faces. Spencer stepped forward. “Don’t worry, Maxwell. We’ll give Mr. Owens the money tomorrow.”
Marcus’s lips twitched. This guy always ruins the moment, he thought. Always the miser. Even now, he’s worried about Siren’s fifteen thousand. I don’t know what to say.
Ryan wandered until he reached a gazebo. Hesitating, he called Simon.
“Ryan? Why are you calling? Isn’t the lab keeping you busy?” Simon asked. They’d kept in regular contact.
Ryan inhaled deeply, his voice trembling. “Mr. Sunderland, when you said I might meet a familiar face in the lab, were you talking about Yvette?”
A brief silence. “Yes. You met her?”
Hearing the expected answer, Ryan struggled to describe his feelings. He recounted the day's events. Simon was unsurprised. “That’s normal. You’ll get used to it.”
How is any of this normal? Ryan wanted to ask. Back at Argrol University, rumors circulated that Yvette was only good at drawing, knowing nothing about physics, frequently skipping exams. If that were true, Ryan thought, what was today? A dream?
Before ending the call, Simon warned, “Don’t mess with her. Understand?”
Ryan pocketed his phone, standing still. Everyone called me a genius, he thought. The future hope. I believed it. Now, it’s laughable.
Meanwhile, in the Jeep, Jeremiah drove, Yvette nestled in the passenger seat, legs curled, a thin blanket draped over her, looking completely relaxed, sipping a banana milkshake.
Jeremiah glanced over. “How was the tour?”
Yvette took a sip. Perfect. She looked at him, casually driving one-handed. “Interesting. And I made fifteen thousand dollars.” James had transferred the money two minutes prior, adding an extra zero for spending money.
Jeremiah’s hand paused on the wheel, amusement in his bright eyes. She won money at the physics lab? he thought. Someone messed with her again. “Fifteen thousand? That made you happy?”
Yvette, cross-legged under the blanket, only her head visible, nodded slightly, looking more obedient than usual. “Kind of.” Money meant little to her; she’d never lacked it. For years, she’d measured wealth in billions.
On the way back to Skyland, Jeremiah received a call. The voice was incredibly respectful. “Jeremiah, we know you’re back. Are you free to join us? We’re at Sky Nimbus.”
Sky Nimbus in Betrico, the largest, most luxurious of the chain leisure clubs—at least ten times more lavish than the Seacrity club.
“Hold on,” Jeremiah said, turning to Yvette. “Want to go? It’s nearby. If not, we can head back to Skyland.”
Yvette lowered her bright eyes. Calmly, she said, “Sure.”
The phone was silent now, the earlier noise gone. In Sky Nimbus, a man burst into a room. Casually, he said, “Did you call Jeremiah? Samantha’s at the door.” He noticed everyone staring, shocked. They’d heard Jeremiah’s voice, and a girl’s—Jeremiah’s girlfriend from Seacrity, the one making waves.