Chapter 63: Weekend Sunlight Filtered Through the Clouds

Weekend sunlight filtered through the clouds, carrying the gentle warmth of early spring.

Clara returned from her morning jog with beads of sweat glistening at her temples. After a hot shower, she changed into fresh clothes and hurried out with a medicine bag.

"To Waverly Heights, please." She slid into the taxi, cradling freshly brewed herbal medicine.

Professor Caldwell's front door was slightly ajar, the aroma of medicinal herbs wafting from the kitchen.

"Professor, I've left the medicine on the table." Clara set down the thermos gently. "Drink it while it's hot."

The professor peered from the study, wrinkling her nose. "That smell..."

"Bitter medicine works best." Clara smiled, pulling a paper box from her bag. "Have this with it."

Inside lay six neatly arranged sweet bean cakes, their delicate sweetness instantly cutting through the medicinal bitterness.

"You..." The professor shook her head with a resigned chuckle, warmth flickering in her eyes.

They settled in the living room as tea steam curled between them.

"Have you considered the lab team selection for next semester?" The professor adjusted her glasses.

Clara's fingers stilled. "I heard the spots are limited."

"Five positions. Three are pre-assigned." The professor handed her a document. "The remaining two go to the most qualified."

The Northshore Biotech logo on the cover made Clara's pupils contract.

"Direct PhD admission, or..." The professor paused meaningfully, "immediate placement in a top-tier lab."

Clara's knuckles whitened. She understood the opportunity's weight perfectly.

"Your theoretical foundation is solid." The professor sighed. "But your lab experience..."

Years had passed since she'd last worked at a lab bench. Rusty techniques and unfamiliar equipment were undeniable weaknesses.

"There's still time." The professor suddenly grasped her hand. "I believe in you."

Sunlight through the sheer curtains dappled their clasped hands with shifting patterns.

"I won't let you down." Clara heard the steel in her own voice.

That evening, she buried herself in research materials immediately after returning home. Columns of data and graphs swam before her eyes until deep night.

Just as her eyelids grew heavy, urgent knocking shattered the silence.

"Clara! Open up!"

Grant's voice punched through the door, accompanied by insistent pounding.

Bang—Bang—