As the temperature soared, the meteorological office issued a red alert.

The temperature had hovered around 95 degrees Fahrenheit for a week, pushing Owen's research to the brink of a breakthrough after relentless calculation and verification.

Finally catching a break, Owen was exhausted and trudged to his seventh-floor apartment, looking forward to a good night's sleep to recharge. However, a sudden noise from across the hallway halted his steps.

Pausing, he turned and knocked on the door opposite his. "Roseanne, are you in there?"

There was no response. Owen knocked again, but still nothing.

Hesitating for a second and contemplating whether to call for help, he heard the door unlocking. Roseanne peeked out, leaving the door just ajar.

"What's up?" Her demeanor was casual as if the knock had merely interrupted her day, her voice as calm as ever, betraying no sign of distress.

Yet, Owen couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off, like a rose wilting without water.

He was silent for a moment under Roseanne's puzzled gaze.

he spoke, "You mentioned you worked on a paper last time. How's

ago. I've been

a work in progress. Would you be interested in taking

Roseanne was surprised.

later, in Owen's apartment, sitting on the couch, Roseanne

values in biological changes, Owen's paper wasn't breaking new ground topic-wise but approached the subject from a novel angle. The

Owen, "Is

it

felt a

ovel met

Owen switching from biology to physics years later. It was like he was made for it, cranking out top-notch

kept asking, "Why

to back the. conclusions. After

of regret flashed

"Then why show it to

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