Was this art exhibit planned in advance, or was it just a petty form of payback after she’d “threatened” his beloved the last time? Maybe this was his way of returning the favor, making sure she felt just as unsettled.

Elodie tore the invitation in half without a second thought.

She tossed the pieces into the trash.

“Alex, let’s focus on the system programming first.” She wasn’t about to waste any more mental energy on this. There was no sense in agonizing over things she couldn’t change or control-she’d only end up frustrated and exhausted for nothing.

She’d considered stripping Selma of her golden artist reputation once.

But even that single attempt had been swiftly shut down by Jarrod’s heavy- handed interference.

Alexander shot her a worried glance. Even as a bystander, he could feel the injustice simmering beneath the surface.

Elodie didn’t spare the window another look.

She bowed her head and quietly resumed her work.

She had no intention of letting anything—or anyone-distract her from what needed to be done.

Night settled in, the dusky sky fading to indigo.

After a long afternoon of coding the flight control system, Elodie reviewed her work with Galen and the others.

When she finally looked up, she could still see the glow of the art building across the street, its windows alive with light and movement.

She kept her expression neutral.

When the day ended, Elodie couldn’t be bothered to fetch her car. Esmeralda offered to drive, so she waited by the curb.

She glanced down at her phone, sending Rosemary a quick message: I’ll be home to eat with you.

A sharp honk sounded nearby.

Elodie looked up just as a crowd spilled out of the French restaurant down the street.

There were reporters and a handful of familiar company executives in the mix.

Sylvie and Selma stood at the center, basking in attention.

Jarrod and Maurice Grady were there as well, hovering nearby.

As fate would have it, Jarrod’s eyes landed on her-she was close enough that he couldn’t miss her.

One of the aviation company CEOS turned to Sylvie. “I’d heard Charlie Sterling would be here tonight. Did he make it?”

Sylvie gave an easy, practiced smile. “He couldn’t come. With his academic responsibilities, his schedule is packed-I didn’t want to trouble him. I am, however, preparing for the doctoral entrance exams at the institute. If I get accepted as his student, I’ll have a legitimate reason to reach out to him then.”

Selma, radiant from the evening’s success, looked every inch the dignified society matron. Even the shadows of her illness couldn’t dim the glow of triumph on her face. “Sylvie’s always been brilliant,” she beamed. “Mr. Sterling holds her in high regard. But she’s so modest-no matter how confident she is, she takes everything seriously.”

Mr. Ableson looked genuinely surprised. “I’ve heard Mr. Sterling hasn’t taken on new graduate students in years. Is he reserving a spot for her, then?”

Grady regarded Sylvie with open admiration. “It’s possible. Ms. Fielding already finished her graduate studies abroad-talent like hers doesn’t go unnoticed.” Hearing all this, Elodie couldn’t help but let out a faint, sardonic laugh.

Maurice also noticed her standing a short distance away.

He leaned toward Jarrod and muttered, “We invited everyone from VistaLink Technologies tonight, but not a single person showed up. Does Elodie really have that much sway there?”

Jarrod’s gaze flickered over to the slender, upright figure across the street.

Selma spotted Elodie at that very moment.

She smiled and called out, “Elodie! What a coincidence-why didn’t you come over tonight?”

“I was going to give you a painting to take home and hang on your wall if you’d made it.”

Elodie hadn’t expected Selma to speak to her directly.

And the implication behind those words…

Her eyes turned cold, any trace of civility gone.

If Selma noticed, she gave no sign. Her smile remained perfectly warm. “Did something come up? Did VistaLink Technologies pile too much work on you? You know, you’re quite clever, Elodie. You could follow Sylvie’s example-go back to school, work on your credentials. It would do you good! Of course, Sylvie has the advantage of a world-class education abroad, which is why Mr. Sterling admires her, but you… Well, it’s never too late to start from the basics.”

Every word, though spoken kindly, dripped with condescension-subtly reminding everyone that Elodie’s education and background could never measure up to Sylvie’s.

Selma’s smugness and barely veiled challenge were plain as day.

Elodie slowly turned to face her, meeting her gaze head-on.

Her voice was cool and measured. “So, what you’re saying is the doctoral spot

with Mr. Sterling is really reserved for Ms. Fielding, isn’t it?”