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