Two Weeks Until Competition
The Blackwood mansion's library had become Emily's sanctuary.
Books on theoretical physics covered every surface quantum mechanics, string theory, particle physics, thermodynamics. To any observer, it would look like intensive cramming. To Emily, it was more like reacquainting herself with old friends.
In Norvale, they'd called it natural philosophy. Here, it was physics. Different terminology, same fundamental truths about how the universe operated.
Timothy found her there late one evening, surrounded by equations she'd been working through on large sheets of paper spread across the floor.
"You've been in here for six hours," he said, setting down a plate of food she didn't remember asking for.
Emily looked up, blinking as if surfacing from deep water. "Has it been that long?"
"It has." Timothy studied the papers, his expression shifting from concern to fascination. "Are these... original calculations?"
