"You must be relieved," Olive said, forcing a brittle smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You won't have to spend your money on sugary coffee or waste your nights keeping a scatterbrained grad student company anymore."

But as the weeks ticked by, the data began to shift in unexpected ways.

Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, Olive smoothed down the fabric of a borrowed black dress. She felt like an impostor. She was just a girl playing a part, pretending to be the equal of a man who was lightyears ahead of her in every possible way.

Adam went very still. "Ah. Right. The end of the experiment."

"Thanks," Olive blushed furiously, looking down at her heels. "You don't look too bad yourself, Dr. Carlsen."